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Chapter Text

It was difficult to admit to yourself that the days blurred into each other since you’ve received the Dateviators and it was only now that it hit you how profoundly lonely the nighttime had become. Maybe it was Sam’s constant teasing about you speaking with your household objects — See: ‘dating’ them. Was it even ethical to think of them as people? —, albeit she believed you as much as anyone really could. But, life in recent years had been quiet. You had a demanding hybrid job before, meetings dragged on from noon to six and you still had work to accomplish after that. It was all-nighters spent in your home office, coffee runs in the morning before the sun rose and a long, dreadful commute to the job when you did have to go in. One could argue in between those moments full of nothing but the anxious thoughts of how you were going to meet your quotas you knew this wasn’t what you wanted out of life. It was in that desperation that you stupidly made the decision to apply to Valdivian and now, although in limbo, you most definitely were out of a job before you’d even started.

The stupid Dateviators made the world seem so shiny, so full of whimsy, and that lifeline became intoxicating to latch onto when you saw through the warm-hued lenses. The objects you spoke with doted on you with familiarity and clear affection, clinging onto your words despite being able to communicate with each other they wanted to communicate with you. And for a while that was enough, but every time they ran out of battery, after saying your goodbyes to the last dateable you spoke with, you were left standing in the middle of your house in the dark and inevitably you will have to take off the Dateviators for the day.

Today, however, when you did, it felt like the entire house was darker than usual, menacing, inviting a cold empty feeling nestle into your chest. You tried your best to keep everything together, taking intentional breaths in and out with the acute awareness that Airyn, if she was real, was entering and exiting your body. The loneliness stung so sharply even that thought made it hard to keep a steady heartbeat, your ears started ringing, seeking out any sound of life inside the very empty home, your eyes started burning and you didn’t know if it was worth it to continue talking to the dateables. If you thought about it a bit more, every time the Dateviators were off it felt like reality slapped you in the face. The dull banality of living in your cursed childhood home, working like a mule for money just to survive, and selling your soul to Valdivian, for what achievement, to say that you were alive? What did it matter when the people you had been speaking to weren’t even people at all? You knew you refused to leave the house because you were tired, you didn’t feel like getting out of bed, you were terrified of meeting people that would hate you or worse, they’d like you and then realize one day you were lying to them about how good you were, all these reasons and none of them felt like enough to stave off this guilt. Could you even explain to yourself what this guilt was, did you even want to? You knew it would invite intrusive thoughts and you were afraid to know if even that would become a dateable.

You felt sick, tired of yourself, and then everything hit you at once, your legs buckled and you submitted to your body, the tears came next and it was hard to stop. Life was unkind to you, it was so hard to continue on day to day that monotony became a crutch you used, an excuse to put off your darker thoughts away, and disappearing from the lives of people you once knew became as easy as an excuse about work. You had always felt unhappy, unfulfilled by life, and everything felt so hard and you had to make it look effortless. Your parents expected exceptionalism and here you were in the house they raised you in, alone, and without a stable job. You have been wasting your time here speaking with objects, participating in this experiment because you couldn’t say no, and it served you nothing. The fact your hand clutched the Dateviators like a lifeline was just a coincidence you at least try to tell yourself.

You wipe your eyes to try to regain control and they just came back even more, your breath stuttering until you let out an involuntary whimper, knowing that you always looked hideous while crying you curled into yourself in case any of the dateables were watching. But they weren’t real, that was the issue. They couldn’t come to you, they couldn’t know what it was like to live like a human, they didn’t know how much pain it was to drag on trying to catch up to your own shadow. It was harder when the people around you wanted so much, they had expectations for you, wishes and dreams, you had obligations to fulfil, and you always felt like a failure because with every success came nothing but the promise that you’d do it again and better. That’s why you were alone now. Sam was just a distant friend, she barely knew the real you but kept up with you because that’s what she did. Everyone else you left behind.

If the Dateviators broke tomorrow everything would be so unbearable, wouldn’t it? You couldn’t face them, though, not when your hands trembled and cradled the glasses as you rocked to try to soothe yourself. Why did you have to agree? No, you wouldn’t wear the glasses tomorrow, or the day after that. You can’t get attached. They will only leave and if they don’t, you will have so many expectations to have to meet. You were so worthless, why did you even take up space here? Were you a coward? Why didn’t you just end your life earlier if this was going to be your future?

“Fuck.” You were breathless, your own voice rattled in your head, you had to remind yourself it was inconvenient to die if only to cling onto another day. Truthfully you weren’t sure if you wanted to.

It was difficult to even convince yourself to get up off the floor, your head heavy, your body tingling and numb, and the house felt so damned quiet, you dragged your feet down the hall and up the stairs, you gripped onto the railing for dear life in one hand and the Dateviators in the other. However you left them on the table outside your room, you didn’t want to see them in the morning. Glancing around your room, you begin to realize that even if you did die, who would care to know? Sam wouldn’t notice immediately but she also didn’t quite know where you lived, so it barely mattered if she missed you.

Was it always this unbearable to live?

Time was not infinite for a human, these objects like Skylar said, would live on and time became meaningless to them and they still were tethered to consciousness on some astral level you simply weren’t smart enough to understand. It made little sense to you how they carried on. Maybe they were happy because there was no responsibility to be anything but exist. You couldn’t know the truth, not unless you revealed to them you barely made it through day by day. You would be begging for pity from objects, shit, that was pathetic.

In the silence, it becomes clear that whatever turmoil you are facing, whatever problems blind your sight on the future, would never be solved by standing in your room staring at your bed. Maybe tomorrow you can think about it some more.

You slowly make your way to your bed and curl up on the comforter, you don’t deserve to be warm and safe underneath the covers. Sinking into the plush, comfortable bed you are reminded of the sweet Betty who wants nothing more than to make sure you were sleeping well. The mere thought that someone wanted that for you was enough to make you start crying again, the tears easily slid down your face and you cried yourself to sleep like many nights before.

Chapter Text

News spread fast in the household about their human, those who didn’t witness it had the rundown as soon as they slept. It was out of the ordinary even for them before the Dateviators, the objects had an HOA meeting to compare memories that they could cobble together, it was proving to be a difficult affair because everyone’s sense of time was just a bit different from one another until Skylar showed up and leveled everyone’s understanding to something mutually intelligible.

The mayor herself seemed pristine and calm, her expression never out of line despite her right hand being extremely anxious about what she witnessed.  “There is no reason to panic right now, those who have been in different households are well aware that these things happen. We will be taking things one step at a time.” 

It was inevitable there was an interruption, hands gripped the edges of the vent grate and practically bristled with longing, a terrified one. “But, I follow the human every day and there hasn’t been a time that I can remember them wearing such a face of despair, not even for a second! I relish in knowing I satisfy their needs and I can’t imagine that I looked away long enough to miss their sorrows.” Everyone took those words seriously because Hector truly was the only one who would be able to follow the human every single part of their day, the mood seemed to sour once even the most distracted of them finally put two and two together. 

It took the wind out of their sails, the objects murmured amongst themselves and even grew ansty as a result of having gotten adjusted to the slower passage of time, every second felt like an eternity to them and the pressure to find an answer was much harder when none of them had the privilege of painstakingly going through every memory they stored away. “This may not be the first time our human cried to sleep,” Betty looked displeased at revealing this information but, it forced everyone to focus in on her for a moment. “I like to keep what happens in the bedroom private as it should be, it’s the human’s dedicated space. But, I’m not sure if I can keep this to myself.” She tilted her head, looking away from the desperate gazes of the household and subconsciously leaned towards Teddy who was near her, equally if not more distraught about the situation because it was personal. “I can vaguely remember it happening a few times but never for long. I figured it was a restless night or bad dream. Now I’m not so sure.” 

Despite the tension clear in his body, Teddy smiled once he noticed how every object was clinging onto each new piece of information. It didn’t help anyone if they were all out of sorts, so he tried his best to inject some positivity. “I’m sure our friend needs time for themselves, its a new day tomorrow and we can try to keep them in good spirits, maybe even understand where they are.” Now that everyone had their eyes directly on him, he decided it would be best to suggest a bit of a plan. “How do the bedroom objects feel about making their room as comfortable as it can be before they wake up? Maybe if we make sure they’re sleeping well, we can catch them on the better side of the bed.” 

The mayor considered it, her eyes narrowing as she tried her best to find any issue with it and soon her stern expression melted into one of pride. “I think that’s a wonderful idea, Teddy. I trust that you and the others will speak about this privately?” She didn’t wait for him to respond, it was better to have less minds on the plans lest they get out of hand. “We should make their day easy too tomorrow, don’t go asking so many questions if they seem under the weather. We’ll reconvene tomorrow night to see where our progress is, if the human’s mood doesn’t improve.” With that everyone quickly shuffled into their other plans for the night, leaving the bedroom’s objects with the important work of planning the perfect morning. 

You would be lying if you told anyone that the night was dreamless, in the corners of your mind you could make out just the idea of what might have happened. Visages of people you surely knew, laughter that must have been directed at you, an empty room but it was filled with water to the ceiling you could taste it if only you didn’t start thinking about the day before it would fully come to you. But the thoughts about your episode flooded your mind, a bit of an embarrassment truthfully, you hadn’t had the time to think about your feelings in years it feels like and this, well it was simply agonizing. While you didn’t feel as terrible as yesterday night, the anxiety started to chill your body when you considered wearing the glasses because even if you had the best day ever, even if you received no questions about what happened, the desperation would settle in by the time the sun set. So instead of fully surfacing from your sleep, you forced yourself to return to it. What you failed to notice, since you decided not to open your eyes at all, was the curtains separating themselves on their own like clockwork and the room filled itself with an alertness directed all towards you. If only you could sense the disappointment, even a bit of nervousness, when you failed to wake up at the same time you always did. 

While you fell back asleep the room stared at each other in silence, no one really wanted to break it. Not when you clearly didn’t even bother opening your eyes to acknowledge the day. It was Skylar that started getting anxious about the situation. “We have to get the Dateviators close to them! Maybe if we make it easier for them to put the Dateviators on we will get somewhere!” She laughed to herself, but it sounded strained and troubled. She needed you to put them back on so that everything could keep moving and you would continue talking to the objects, that was the whole point of the Dateviators. She knew that the household moved differently now that they were attuned to each other, what agony would it be if there was no human to bring everything together? 

“I think that’s a lovely idea, Skylar.” He looked towards Timmy and asked him tentatively, “Do you think you could set an alarm for noon, just in case our friend needs a bit of a reminder to wake up?” 

He languidly stretched, not at all trying to suppress a yawn, “I guess, nya… It is according to Timothy’s shhhedyule…” 

It didn't bother Teddy in the slightest, he simply gave the cat a kind smile. “Thank you.” It was a great weight on his shoulders to keep everyone in a calm mood but, if he didn’t who would? It would be very upsetting if your mood never improved so this was in the upmost importance for him, it comforted him to know that the rest of the objects seemed to be on the same page. Betty gently touched his shoulder, her effortless soft smile eased the nerves a bit despite her too being worried about their human, “You’re doing great too, Teddy. Don’t worry, I know our human will be okay.” The gentle touch lingered for a bit longer, a wordless conversation happened between them both intimate and reassuring, it was at the very least going to be a slow and comfortable day with the both of them in charge. 

Chapter Text

You finally awoke midday when your black cat clock decided to ring an unscheduled alarm, it was then that you opened your eyes and saw the very edge of your head in the mirror. Why the hell did you decide a mirror by your bed was a great idea when you can barely stand to look at yourself in the eyes, let alone your entire body. It was as if it confirmed something deeply primal, wanting nothing more than to destroy your image every time you had more than a glance. You never understood how people could stand to look at themselves, see what was there, and be satisfied. No matter what face you made, no matter what clothes you wore, no matter how confident you stood, when you saw your reflection it repelled you. Today the thought of your reflection was too much to handle, you didn’t even know how it would make you react.

When you turned your back on Amir and Timothy that you took notice of how well wrapped up in the covers you were, it was practically a hug and not too hot at all. You can only assume Hector really did know exactly what temperature you slept best in. The embarrassment of needing to be taken care of by not only your bed but your air conditioning made you tightly close your eyes, trying to maintain your composure in front of objects that had enough consciousness to remember what they saw and try to speak to you about it.  In your attempt to get comfortable again you kicked something unexpectedly, immediately confused you looked down near your feet to see Teddy holding the Dateviators. 

Desperately you attempted to swallow down your nerves but it didn’t help the heavy but sharp pain in your chest that you couldn’t ignore. With what little sense you had you tried to hold your breath to control your breathing but it only made it worse, you weren’t getting enough air in that was for sure and the trembling in your hands seemed to make everything much more serious than it had to be. It was just some glasses. Why did you have to be so afraid of them? You were an adult with a job, with responsibilities in the real world that didn’t stop just because you were busy talking to yourself in your home. God, if someone were to see you talking to yourself, how would you explain it? This isn’t a big deal. 

Your nerves made your stomach turn and in the flurry of emotions you realized that it felt like the room was closing in on you. The expectation to perform finally hit you and as you were wrapped up in the covers it came to you that they wanted to speak, why else would they be trying so hard? They must hate you for leaving them. You were immensely stupid to think that ignoring them for the morning was the best option. But now what could you do? You couldn’t wear them, it made your chest hurt and your head spin to think that you’d have to hear them yelling at you for being a disappointment. It was natural for them to realize that you weren’t great, there was nothing to prove yourself with, you hadn’t accomplished anything. Most of them were second-hand anyways and you were sure that their previous owners were far more qualified than you, fuck, ethical too. You threw away every single thing that reminded you of your childhood except for Teddy and you weren’t sure if he remembered much of it. 

With all the disgust floating around and inside you, it felt like vomiting was the only option to get rid of it and all the wired anxiety filling your veins. Forcing yourself up, clumsily and in a rush, you stumbled your way to the restroom, falling to the ground in the process and eventually you leaned over your toilet. Fuck, no, that was Jean Loo and you couldn’t just vomit in him. He’d get angry. He’d wonder why you did that to him. He’d make fun of you. He was a toilet and not a vomit bag. The urge to expel vanished and you were so overwhelmed with these vivid emotions that you didn’t know how to handle, you fingers started to go numb and your brain felt like mush from all the thoughts in it. The ringing in your ears returned, sharp, this time loud and nearly deafening, the sun spilling into the bathroom still didn’t seem like enough to ground him.

In an attempt to self soothe, you run your hands through your hair but that action alone was enough to break the last thread of control you had and the only option you had was to let the tears out. Openly sobbing in front of your toilet was pathetic enough with no witnesses but in the back of your head you knew more objects could see you crying, why couldn’t you just keep yourself in control? You needed to control yourself. This was getting pathetic. This is why no one likes you. This is why you can’t fucking stand yourself. You never had any motivation to do anything and even when things were handed to you, you took them for granted. Other people didn’t have a fake job. They didn’t have a roof over your head. And here you were pathetically crying in front of a toilet with the absurd awareness that this toilet in fact was a frenchman. You were so fucking lucky and you are an ungreatful little shit, aren’t you? Other people would kill, absolutely love to be in your shoes, and everything was just too fucking much for you, wasn’t it? 

You can’t handle it. Today for some reason you can’t make yourself run on self-deprecating insults, it was crumbling in your hands the longer you stewed in this hopelessness you ran on. It made everything so painful, so unbearable, you wanted nothing more than to scratch yourself out of the picture. Really what was tethering you to this house besides some latent responsibility to tinfoilhat and Skylar? Well, it could’ve been the memories of the good in between the bad. What triumph would it have been to survive in the house you vowed never to come back to, in the city you never wanted to live in? You felt so angry with yourself. It was difficult to explain why, the whole feeling crawled up your body and burned in your chest with shame smothering you. 

At least within the anger you found that you couldn’t cry anymore, not now at least, and with a deep breath you force yourself to stand up and with all that built up energy you balled your hand into a fist and punched the door frame. The sharp zip of pain shouldn’t have felt as gratifying as it did, so without thinking you did it again to enjoy the hazy adrenaline that came with the pain. Your heart was racing, eyes shining, and with no intention to stop you continued in consistent succession until you bled. Something in your head clicked when you saw red, like it was a surprise that was the conclusion of your very fucking obvious and stupid venture. Awarded with a pulsing pain so much so that you couldn’t stop yourself from shivering in both pain and a sick sense of a dopamine hit, it took you a moment to owlishly stare down at your injured fist and back at the doorframe before it hit you that you had been in fact beating up a door with no ability to protect itself. 

Oh. 

Chapter Text

Though there were no eyes you could meet, it still felt like the entirety of your house was staring directly at you with bated breath and you breathing harder than normal because of all that wiry energy filling your veins. The immediate solution, albeit flawed, was to gather your other hand and do the same until your fist was bruised and bleeding but, you couldn’t bring yourself to move. If you were honest with yourself, you couldn’t even begin to fully piece together what you were thinking at the moment. You felt your heartbeat so frantically, so hard that it forced you to sway with it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so much like a deer in headlights.

Unconsciously you attempted to flex your hand, the acidic pain making you flinch because you weren’t expecting it, you let out a hiss and finally looked towards the bed where both that stupid fucking Teddy Bear and Dateviators seemed to be drawn to you. And you tried to look away only to spot your reflection of your messy, unbrushed hair, bloody arm, and wild look in your eyes. You could barely stand to see yourself in it. Your head spun and the world around you felt unstable for a moment which made you lose your balance and stumble back into the door. The impact and sudden contact with the object, Dorian, you started to wonder if he was okay. You didn’t damage the door, you never did, and it wasn’t like these doors should remember anything. 

The only solution was taking every single penny in your savings and run away… again. But you weren’t exactly in a place where you could do that when you were still financially recovering from entirely remodeling this home, fuck, you couldn’t just pick up and move. You’d have to start over from your phone to furniture, hell the clothes on your back would still remember if you didn’t get rid of them. But even then your Nightmare will remember and she’ll definitely constantly remind you of the time you betrayed the objects, the only things in your life that cared at all and you screwed up. You couldn’t stay in the house. At this point it didn’t even matter if you went missing and let the bank reclaim everything you own. It would be better for everyone involved. 

Your shoulders fell as you humourlessly laughed, looking up at the ceiling but more intended for a God you didn’t believe in, and you attempted to wipe away the exhaustion written in the wrinkles you surely were cementing now. 

The objects, unbeknownst to you, were starting to understand how bad this problem really was. This especially from the only object in the house who could remember you from a time long past this one, Teddy. He didn’t look very happy. In fact, his expression was sobering and quite concerning to Skylar and she saw the signs early on from the human. It was just that she convinced herself that loneliness was something they could easily move past. 

If Teddy needed a moment, it was up to her to gather everyone on the same page. It was her fault that this was happening in the first place, kind of, sort of… in some tangential way. “Uhm, Dorian? Are you-”

 “I’m fine. It’s okay, love.”  He cut her off. It was sharp, curt, and slightly too aggressive.

She didn’t like the answer. “But, it doesn’t have to be…” 

Before they could gather their bearings, the room so silent for being filled with objects, they saw the human shove their phone in their pocket and take down a hoodie from their closet. Skylar tried not to worry but, how could she not? One second you’re punching Dorian until you bleed and then now, as your shoulders slump, and the sparkle of amusement in your eyes completely wasted away, there was nothing they could do or say to get you to listen now. Most everyone was in their own groups by this point, too weary to get in the way and too hesitant to risk their objecthood when it was easier to allow the human to cool down. But the expression you wore didn’t set right with Skylar. 

She probably had a point if you knew what she was thinking and vice versa, you were tense where it mattered, in your mind, and the rest of you loose as if you were letting go of the more important parts of yourself. The world you saw was washed in barely pigmented watercolors, the truth of what you witnessed bled into one another and you didn’t care anymore. You ambled down the stairs with injured hand to the wall, your eyes set for the door. It really didn’t matter where you went, just needed to get far away. 

You took a deep breath in as you slipped on your sneakers, still tied like you had somewhere to go at a moments notice. It was late in the afternoon now, the sun was setting, and all you could think about was if you were going to leave the door locked when you left. It would make it easier for Valvidian if you simply let them know but, why would you do that? They fired you, unofficially, and still expected loyalty? At that point it would have been easier, probably more beneficial, to sell your soul to the devil. 

But, when you tried to unlock the door it locked itself back into place. Maybe you didn’t do that right. So you unlocked the door again and went to open it only to be stopped by a locked door again. This made you furrow your eyebrows, concerned and confused that this had happened in the first place, and you looked around to see if there was anyone you could perceive. Even if it was futile your heart dropped in disappointment when that wasn’t the case. Whatever, you shrugged off the oddity of this and unlocked the door, this time keeping your hand on it for a moment to make sure you opened it correctly. That wasn’t enough, as soon as your hand moved to the handle, its lock clicked again. 

“Dorian. I’m sorry.” You apologized and half your heart was in it, the other half really just wanted to leave. It may have not been enough, you tried again and only got a resounding click of a lock as a reply. “I’m ready to leave. Let me leave.” He did say once you knew he wouldn’t stop you. Why was he being difficult now? Is it because you hit him? But that wouldn’t be quite right, he would want you out of his sight. What gives? 

You sigh, shifting your weight to one side and using that momentum to pivot, you walk towards the back door. It was almost the same situation there, instead you couldn’t even unlock the door. “Dorian!” You truthfully couldn’t hold back your annoyance, it was so obvious that he was angry with you and didn’t want you to leave. That made you even more anxious to leave and you tried the window next to the back door but even that was locked. Then you ran to your home office and tried the windows there, all locked tightly and unable to believe it you yell at the vents, anger dripping from your words. “Hector! You tell everyone- someone to let me out!” Cold air blasted directly in your face almost immediately as a response, a burning feeling bloomed in your chest. “What the hell do you mean? It wasn’t a suggestion.” 

“Fuck!” You stormed up the stairs and went directly to the closet where you left the toolbox, it was a miracle the door wasn’t closed but mostly for a lack of lock rather than the assumed will of your sentient collection of doors. But when you crouched down to open the toolbox, it had closed itself in front of your face. Though the position was hard to keep, it was your shock that made it difficult to move from that toolbox. Even Tony was on board with it? You weren’t sure how much self-control you had left. But every time you started thinking of a plan your phone would vibrate in a desperate attempt to bring attention to it. Reminders that you never set popped up on the screen, you scanned through them slowly. 

Are you ok?

Put on the Dateviators. 

What happened, we’re worried. 

Is your hand fine? Go visit Farya. 

Just talk to us.

You need a moment to calm down

we don’t think its safe you leave

You took it as a sign to give up in a way. At least for now because when you slowly stand up and realize the world around you suddenly plunged into that crawling darkness you were running away from. Your hands twitch with the desire to slam the door close but the part of you that sees these objects as people, not just what they are, couldn’t do that. Half-heartedly you insulted Tony before you walked away. “You have a small dick, Tone.” 

You could practically hear the toolbox start hurling very distinctly Italian insults towards you while you slowly walked towards your bedroom. As you expected, every object was angled towards you and in your exasperation you wanted nothing more than to scream. In the heat of your frustration and inability to regulate your emotions, you punched your thigh with your already very bruised hand without thinking and you hissed, leaning forward both in overwhelming pain and to avoid clenching your hand again. 

“Shit!” 

In misplaced anger you threw away your phone on the bed and pointed to the Dateviators. “I don’t wanna talk, Skylar! I would’ve preferred if I didn’t have over two hundred fucking eyeballs looking at me.” There was no time to yourself in the household, everything you used made you feel guilty like you had no reason to accept this kindness, no way to repay them, and if they got sick of you they still had to stay in the house and serve you. It was so confusing, you still didn’t know how to process it. “Just leave me alone. Call your inventor or some shit to take you back. Fuck they can take the whole house. I don’t care.”

At this point you were positive that you at the very least bruised your knuckles, if not fractured one of them;  the last hit seemed to be what did it, now the pain was pulsing even more and the heat radiating from your hand was uncomfortable. You held you hand close to your stomach so that you could remind yourself that you couldn’t use your dominant hand and you took a moment to yourself by covering your eyes with the non-injured hand. It was going to be at least a few hours if Skylar did what you asked. You needed to find somewhere that had the least amount of objects. 

A thud caught your attention, you looked over to see Teddy on the floor and with a sigh you picked him up and placed him back on the middle of the bed. It didn’t quite resist but you felt as though the bear tried to hold onto your hand. Whatever painful memories that brought up made you bite the inside of your cheek and you pat the bear’s head before making your way to the closet where it was mostly just the Hanks and Dirk. “I’m evicting you guys to the next closet over.” 

The process seemed to be slower than expected with one hand, the Hanks were simple and didn’t require much out of you to place them in the next closet because you sure they framed it as another adventure but Dirk kept somehow tangling himself into your hand. “Dirk, I’m going to give you that Bat-Man body pillow I swear. Just get off of me, Jesus. I know that’s who you love anyways.” Were you hurt by that? Did you want your clothes to love you? That was too much to think about when you could barely keep your eyes open and ignore the throbbing pain in your hand. But, you were foolishly determined to get every single object out of the closet. The boxes, however, were heavy and needed an additional hand to carry down. One that you couldn’t quite spare. Still, who was going to stop you from doing so? 

It was risky but you managed by somehow keeping your hand from jostling too much, just the last box needed you to reach on your tippy toes and upon feeling its weight pressing against your joints filled your hand with a searing pain you had no choice but to drop the box. You were sweating, the pain was keeping you awake and easing some of that anxiety but at the cost of both your better judgement and function as a person. The fact your heart still raced to accommodate the suddenness of the loud noise was a miracle and you kept getting brief spells of dizziness, maybe it was time to sleep. You could see the moon dipping down the horizon when you looked out the window, time was meaningless when it passed by so slowly and so quickly. You felt like shit. 

So you pushed the box into the next closet with your foot before returning to the newly empty closet to immediately slump inside and close the door to the outside world. Your eyes felt heavy, you couldn’t resist getting dragged way by sleep as soon as you did.  

Chapter Text

“I just can’t remember their life, it all happened so fast and so long ago and every time I think about it everything is a blur.” Ah, that’s why Teddy didn’t seem so engaged. He was trying to regain memories that were years ago in the past and as an object, that wasn’t as simple as it seemed. Even if he knew everything about the human, the sands of time slip through his hands just as the stuffing from his seams have. 

Betty gently held Teddy, her eyes lingering on the closed closet door. It wasn’t like you had slept on her every day since you got her but, it felt unnerving to know you would choose to sleep on Florence instead of her when that was her explicit purpose. “Teddy, you can’t know everything about them. Didn’t you say you spent a lot of time here away from them?” 

“Yeah, I know.” He followed her gaze to the closed doors, a gentle frown pressed against his face. “It doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the truth.” 

Betty couldn’t say much else that would assure him, not without being a hypocrite herself. She did, too, think she knew you well. But things were complicated it seems. It just felt like it came out of nowhere. 

Skylar on the other hand was fussing with Dorian alongside Farya, they both were circling him as if a new injury was going to appear at any moment. But as far as they knew, the human was asleep. After their 5th check on Dorian where he gave them a stern look, they both decided that was the time to back off. 

“Did you get a good look at the Human’s injury, is it gory? Do you think they’ll let me fix it tomorrow?” Farya, who had mostly been away from the human, didn't really understand how serious it was.

Skylar tried not to worry her but she couldn’t stop herself from looking just a bit disappointed. “Uhm, not exactly. They aren’t, well… in the best of moods.” 

Before Farya could ask additional questions, Dorian spoke up. “We weren’t sparring. They’re not in their right mind at the moment.” He looked tense, like one movement will send him into action. Skylar couldn’t tell if it was out of concern or caution. “It’d be best if you stayed away.”

“O-Oh…” She deflated, genuinely disappointed. 

“But don’t worry, Farya! I’m sure they’ll cheer up soon!” She smiled but she wasn’t sure. This was uncharted territory for all of them. With that, perhaps it was better if they sent her away. So they did, wishing her a goodnight. 

Skylar slowly looked up to Dorian once Farya was gone from view and the look of sympathetic apprehension surprised her. “Are you upset with them?” She, in turn, looked apologetic and laced her hands together. “I’m sorry I asked you to lock the doors, I just didn’t feel comfortable with them leaving…” 

“I’m here to protect, it is my job to take threats seriously. I can’t let my guard down.” He didn’t look away from the closet, she couldn’t blame him. “I don’t want them to hurt themselves.” 

“Me neither.” 

It was no surprise that the room, and the objects in it, couldn’t find a reason to break the silence. Though their human couldn’t hear them, what more could they do to plan for the next day. But a question weighed on their minds, it took a while for someone to ask. 

“Are we going to lock them in again tomorrow?” Hector sounded displeased, his hands nervously clenching and unclenching the vent grate, he truly hated having to be cruel to his human. “I didn’t like seeing them run around the house.”

“Do you want the human to be in danger out there?” Dorian shifted his weight, trying not to seem too bothered about it. But by the way his furrowed brows only deepened, it was obvious. 

“No… I guess not.” His eyes looked away before his hands disappeared into the darkness of the vent. “I’ll just keep the temperature on the warmer side because they’re on the floor.” 

Dorian grunted. A few of the objects waited, staring at the door, and others left the stuffy room for a bit of reprieve. Nevertheless, it wasn’t an easy going night for them. 

You slowly surfaced from your sleep, it was obvious not only did you sleep in a bad position but you were entirely too hot. You blinked around in confusion because for some reason the world around you was dark, you could barely see in front of you. It took another moment for you to realize the hoodie clung to you uncomfortably and your hair stuck to the back of your neck. As you stretched out your legs you groaned and you started to feel pain throughout your entire body like a distant fire was underneath every muscle. Your head felt like it was so entirely foggy you could barely stand thinking so much so it hurt to even exist and tell yourself to think. You curled up, trying to get more comfortable on the floor but your stomach growled. Wait, you can’t remember when was the last time you ate? In a bit of concern you tried to trace back your days but to contend with the difficulty because everything felt like the same day when you ascribe to the same routine was no easy or possible feat.

So, the thought slowly fizzled away and you felt yourself sink into the floor until you jolted awake, hitting the wall with your foot in the process and making a bit of a dramatic entrance for the objects you certainly knew were watching. The funny thing is despite knowing you had to get out,  it seemed obvious to you the closet door was almost impossible to claw open. You pushed your good hand against it and still fully expected it to open that way. Not a single centimeter did it bother moving. You tried again, too sleepy to fully remember that you had to slide it open, so you sat up straight and tried again, but you were already tightly wound up and started to jump to conclusions like the objects were trying to keep you inside the closet. You didn’t even try to think why that would be an uncharacteristic idea and instead, you meekly tapped on the closet. 

“Please, Dorian? I wanna get out.” No answer, that was obvious. But the door didn’t open. 

Your only logical conclusion was they were sick of you, all your meddling and yelling, and decided they wanted the house to themselves. Which at this point though you were amenable to them, you knew that could go away and it was well within their right to. Who were you to stop it from happening? Maybe you could ask them to let you out first, it would be a hassle to have a human body in a household full of objects. 

So you called out again, “Dirk? Can you hear me?” Of course it still isn’t like you expect them to speak with you but you also didn’t expect to feel like the closet was very so subtly closing in on you. It was already a relatively small space you slotted yourself into but with the little light coming in from the cracks of the closet it was getting more apparent that the walls were approaching, the ceiling looming closer to your head, and the doors were getting impossible to squeeze through the longer you watched the closet shrink. Your heart practically leaped out of your chest to the point that it stung every time it beat, you were so terrified you couldn’t even cry. 

You tried every name you knew would be in the room but with every gasp and new name you were acutely aware there was less viable air in the closet. Not even the chill that ran down your spine reassured you, so you resorted to begging. “Help, I can’t breathe!” It didn’t matter anymore if you injured yourself further from how hard you banged the closet doors, trying to get the attention of anything, even the neighbors. Nothing budged, but the walls and ceiling continued to close in on you and you banged on those too, screaming for someone to hear you, not even to listen but to beg for an acknowledgement that this was on purpose and that someone— something knew what became of you. 

You must have done many things to deserve this but, to pinpoint what exactly that could’ve been was impossible when every passing day, each passing week, and the all too quick eternity of a passing month all felt the same. Maybe it was just that very inattentive nature which clung onto you made you seem irresponsible, apathetic, lost in your own world. As a result, people hated you and you surely earned it. 

And alongside that knowledge, you must have been so stupid to think that even objects had the capacity to love you, let alone like you. If there was one certainty, it was that you always had been and forever will be the constant problem in your life. Even so, it felt terrifying to know all these weeks were spent in a confusing haze of lies amongst you and the objects just to lead up to this, a betrayal by any other name, and to think you’d done much of the work without knowing it until the objects decided they were sick of this game and decided to get rid of you. 

It was difficult to justify with the pure sorrow aching deep in places you didn’t know still had the capacity of being so painful, somewhere in a corner of your heart is where it nestled and mocked you. Of course, how could you be so careless? Obviously no matter how hard other people try to understand you, its become a meditative habit to push them away before they found your worse half, the side of you full of caustic proclivities and even more dangerous words to go along with it. That was part of the reason your ex broke up with you, they said so themselves. What was it? 

You deserve to be lonely. 

Gasping out one last time, voice frayed and genuine fear filling your body, you just wished for someone to genuinely forgive you. Even if you didn’t deserve it. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” But your pleading went unheard, you felt yourself choking on the lack of air, and it didn’t take long before you passed out.  

Chapter Text

You woke up flat on your back as you gasped for air, whatever you were getting in didn’t feel like enough when you lost it all just a moment before. It was disorienting to know you were breathing unobstructed but still felt the weight deep set in your chest, it took you a moment to figure out what you experienced must have been a kind of dream, maybe a nightmare. You couldn’t be sure since she didn’t appear. Finally opening your eyes you come to realize that you somehow made it halfway outside the closet door, you became keenly aware of your flushed skin, a bit too sweaty for your liking. Everything, even blinking, felt like it was taking so much energy out of you so you laid there staring blankly at nothing in particular to catch your breath for a moment. You couldn’t be sure how long it was but it didn’t leave you feeling any more refreshed. 

Still a bit dazed, in an attempt to make yourself feel a bit more put together you attempted to wipe your face with your dominant hand and though screaming was the correct option, you opted to curl into yourself and bite your hoodie’s arm to muffle yourself. There was absolutely no way you didn’t fuck up your hand even more, you couldn’t even imagine how long it would take to heal or you really didn’t want to. So you lifted it up slowly so that you wouldn’t jostle anything too much and it was no surprise both your arms were visibly bruised and your dominant hand looked even more inflamed than yesterday. Blood still was caked on it too, and to top it off you had blood underneath your fingernails as if you were a brute with no self-control and opened up old and new wounds. You didn’t even want to know the extent of it and rested your head on the uncomfortably warm floor where you would have gone back to sleep if it weren’t for your heart beating just a little too fast for comfort. 

There was so much to be done and here you were laying on your floor with a hundred and some odd witnesses that could be staring right at you, their presence was so loud that if you stayed silent enough and let the blood rush into your ears it would eventually get replaced with the chattering, laugher and breaths of things that weren’t people but certainly seemed more human than you. But in that humanity you saw in them came the expectation of being perceived, even when you slept there was something there, watching you, taking after you, and you were supposed to pay it no mind. 

A gentle breeze of cold air hit you, seemingly out of nowhere, you knew it was Hector but, you’re starting to wish you didn’t. If it was malicious or kindness, you weren’t able to determine from such a neutral action. It still felt looming, like something that needed to be repaid for the simple acknowledgement. The uncomfortable feelings welcomed themselves inside and settled underneath your skin, indescribable sadness and helplessness pulled your thin patience with yourself taut. You distinctly knew at least today something had to get done, but your body felt like lead. 

You looked over to the restroom in order to gauge how much energy it would take to get up without fully realizing the Dateviators were right next to you, it took a few slow blinks to register it in your mind. Truthfully, you felt worse than yesterday. Your head was wrapped in a dull, sometimes throbbing pain, your body didn’t want to work with you, your throat hurt and your mouth was dry, so what else could really go wrong? 

The glasses were deceptively light, fragile, and you knew they’d be quick to bend under some pressure and still, you had trouble even getting them open. Once you did and were able to stare into the orange lenses, you clenched your jaw and braced yourself for their comments. With a deep breath you slowly slid them on but held your eyes tightly shut, you weren’t sure if you could deal with looking at them. Nothing could prepare you for the weight of the room crushing in on you, their presence took up the space in the room and made it suffocating even though you weren’t even sure if they could breathe. 

“Kiddo, its okay. Can you open your eyes for me?”

“Oh my gosh! You need a self-care day. Let’s get you off the floor!” 

“What the hell happened, did you have a nightmare?” 

“Are you… alright?” 

There were so many voices far more than those you not only understood but also knew were in your room and you couldn’t identify any of them clearly because everyone was talking over each other and they fully surrounded you, the way their concerns hit your ears sounded like they were leaning over you. It was too much for you to handle, you quickly take off the glasses and let out a breath that you were holding in. Your body was tense, you didn’t think you could relax knowing that the objects towered over you, watching you, and now you couldn’t delude yourself into believing that they were doing their own things while you also lived in the house. It isn’t until you can be absolutely sure you won’t catch a glimpse of them through the glasses that you open your eyes. You tried your best to not stare at anyone in particular but it made for a dizzying indecision, so you closed your eyes again and swallowed.

“I just don’t… understand.” The words came out in a whisper. It was a kind of sadness you never let even yourself see; the one that aches in your lungs, cries in your head, keeps your hands itching for absolution. The sort of kind you knew you couldn’t let yourself get away with without grave consequences. “Wouldn’t it have been better if we never met?” You opened your eyes and with a small, bitter smile you let out a tired laugh that came out more like a sigh. “I’m so lonely.” 

Slowly, as if a hundred pound weights were attached to your joints, you sat up and your head hung low but, you still held onto the Dateviators. “And there are so many eyes watching me...” You look at the glasses, their promise and your disruption, if only you had continued to live and breathe for your job. Why did you expect anything more? “How do I begin to explain it to myself, justify it, that the only people in my life aren’t people at all?” 

“You guys just… don’t get it.” You took a shaky breath in, prepared to speak but nothing came out. If you admit it, there was no going back. “It’s,” You trail off, struggling to find the words. “...torture, being human.” It only occurred to you then that you were holding on tightly to the Dateviators and forced yourself to let them go, placing them as gingerly as you could on the floor. “Unlike you guys, born in your purpose, I’m supposed to find it?” 

“You’d think that’s a good thing, and maybe it is.” You shrug, it never felt like a good thing. The action made you curl up into yourself, tucking your broken hand into your lap and pulling your knees close to your chest. “But, I always felt like there was nothing holding me here. I see the endless potential the people around me espouse as a curse.” It was easier if they couldn’t see your face, you hid it in your knees. “No matter how hard I tried, I could never find where I fit. I aimed to please my parents and they hated me for not being exactly who they wanted me to be. So, I tried my hand at love but I was famously so terrible that I was told to never, under any circumstance, expect to find a partner who could stand me.” 

You lick your lips, your free hand clutching at your hoodie sleeve. “At work, even if I don’t fit in, I blend into the background and no one notices that I sold my life to it. Why would they? I go in, I do my work. I go out, I sleep. I go in.” The words sink in, they feel uncomfortable in your mouth but it was the truth. “And I forget I’m even alive at all. The days pass me by and suddenly, before I realize it, its been another year.”

“And I’m expected to do this for the rest of my life?” You paused, trying to conceive it in your head. “I can’t imagine.” 

Truly, what could a bunch of household objects who have only recently come to understand one another clearly say about that? How could they know the emotions that you, the human, were so quietly explaining to them? Every object in the room looked sick to their stomach because of the innate helplessness they were feeling. If only you kept the Dateviators on then maybe- What? What could they provide besides words of comfort? 

Despite the fact she had a front view seat to your agony, she felt that this could be solved with a bit of determination. At least, that’s what she told herself. Skylar held her hands together, put on a hopeful face as she turned to the crowd of objects. “Maybe-”

“Not now, love.” Dorian shook his head, he looked almost embarrassed and she couldn’t figure out if it was aimed at her or at the situation. 

She deflated a bit, putting her head down before looking at you. She knew she wasn’t fully equipped to deal with a situation like this and guessing at how to seemed like a bad idea. “You’re right…” 

No one in the room really felt like speaking with one another. So, it truly was as quiet as the human heard it. 

Chapter Text

Did an object have the capacity for empathy beyond their own understanding of their world?

For as much as they looked like you, it was unreasonable to assume they carried an understanding that even some humans could never place themselves in. Those types of people burned brighter than the sun, it was a wonder how they never faltered for a moment and when they smiled in amusement, you found yourself staring right into the afterimage of your ex. When you looked into those warm-hued lenses and the visages of your household objects burned into your eyes, once you looked away you are unfortunately only left with the image of a washed out object without a voice of its own. So please, if you could, explain it to yourself how they’d understand what you were even rambling on and on about when they have no experience of the world beyond the walls of a household. 

Speaking of which, a sizeable proportion of the items had witnessed this and besides Skylar’s attempt at rounding everyone up, it seemed no one was willing to find another solution to their human’s aversion to wearing the glasses. What they said just almost made sense, if it weren’t for the scalding comment about never meeting again then maybe it would be easier to swallow your unhappiness. It wasn’t like you were shining all the time. The state of the household was exactly like you said, to them things seemed normal, perfectly acceptable even. 

There is no length of advice, no fable he inherently knew, no amount of hugs he could provide that would fix it. When Teddy considered his own aches were fixed easily with a thread and needle, by contrast yours were less literal and more metaphorical, a bit too cerebral for him to wrap his mind around it. If he’d been specifically designed to comfort and even he could not conceive what you were throwing at them, how were the others supposed to follow? 

But, maybe this behavior wasn’t abnormal. 

Behind the layers of dusty stuffing must have been a memory he could only hear but not quite see, echoey in nature so he must have not been fully conscious. It was your voice, strained and vulnerable, he doesn’t have a clue on how old you were. “Yeah, no, I’m fine.” He wasn’t convinced, call it instinct or simply obvious. Non-committal, it sounded like you moved or possibly started pacing around. “Mm. Just the usual lecture… yeah, right… well, I dunno. Maybe in a few weeks?” He tried to dig in deeper, cling onto the memory as best as possible. But you were so far away, the conversation continuing without him and all that he could remember after that was your rapidfire cursing, distinctly angry and tired. Then, he was rewarded with the sudden appearance of your pallid adolescent face, glowing from the streetlights just outside the window and it was absolutely wrought with a subtle grief not too unfamiliar. Your disregard for the old and new wounds littering your arm while scratching it thoughtlessly was unnerving. The memory flickered away into darkness once again. He knew that was one of the last times he saw you before moving back into the house, it felt strange when he was looking right back at you seemingly as fragile as then. 

You curled into yourself tighter, sending a sharp ache down your arm and clenched your jaw. “There’s really no point to me being here. At least you guys… you know, serve some greater purpose.” It didn’t occur to you to stop yourself from letting out a wet laugh, it sounded worse than you could ever know. “Everyone who was in my life knows I’ve never done anything worthwhile, what a waste of space I am.” Maybe now that they saw you for who you were, they’d let you leave the house. You weren’t sure how far you’d get, did it matter? You slightly lifted your head to look at Skylar, even that quick motion made you feel like the entire room was spinning, it took you a moment of blinking to feel like you were appropriately in control of your body. “Hey, will you let me out today?” 

At first no one really wanted to say anything because of what happened yesterday, they didn’t even look at each other to confirm. It seemed they all agreed that you shouldn’t leave. “What the fuck are we doing here staring? Look at them, we gotta do something.” Dirk grumbled, already sick of seeing this play out, he was about to mess with your clothes before Dorian stopped him. 

“Do you know what will happen if you do that? We aren’t looking for repeats of yesterday.” He gripped Dirk’s arm tightly without a single chance for wiggle room. He really didn’t know what to do but appeasing the human sounded better than hearing them run around the house like a madman. 

Dirk however narrowed his eyes, already leaning away and perhaps even winding up a punch for Dorian. It didn’t go unnoticed. “Then what do you suggest ‘cause this isn’t gonna solve itself. They’ve helped us with our problems, why can’t we?” 

“If we go with your dumb idea, they may cause the house more damage. Its better to keep them where I can see them.” He was truthfully worried, more than he could let on because the household ran on his vigilance. This wasn’t the answer as much as it was the safe option. 

“You sure kept them safe in the closet, Dorian.” He shouldn’t have taken it that far, Dirk knew that. They all heard what happened last night, it was… incredibly hard to bear witness to. However it was enough to get Dorian to grit his teeth and grab onto Dirk’s arm even tighter. 

Celia had no choice but to step in, her hands on their shoulders as she prepared what she was going to say to appease both sides of a tricky situation. However it seems like the human took their hesitation as an answer, their mood already incredibly sour only made them look far worse than she’d care for. Their hand trembled above Skylar with a kind of restraint, cautious but still not enough to make them ignore whatever instinct told them to destroy, as opposed to create. 

They as objects had no ubiquitous gods but certainly if there was religion, it would worship humanity for — by no means of exaggeration — their hands created the first object. While not even the most ancient object could relay with lucidity or confidence what it was, they knew it became the nexus of their existence. From then on it became human and objects, they stood side by side to create the world as they knew it. Objects are central, a definite feature, and have never been mislead because they had a purpose and within that purpose, it was better defined by the wielder. It was unflinching, unopposed, and unquestioned as the central idea of objecthood. 

Even this society within the household is tied up in humanity’s image. They may not understand and it isn’t for a lack of trying, they simply could never live as a human does. It seems that through this communication, as much as Celia wanted to believe humans were easy, simple companions in life, was far more complicated than she’d expected. So, how were they supposed to begin to break down an experience they cannot even fathom and truly understand the human? It seemed impossible. 

“Uh… Celia?” Dirk looked at her a bit concerned but mostly because he was worried what she’d say about their argument. 

“Persuade them to put on the glasses.” Communication, however, did not have to be easy to be effective. In fact, it is communication that made it so humanity itself was able to progress in creating more, better objects. “I think it will be best to keep yourselves quiet and not overwhelm the human.” She briefly looked exasperated as she tried to consider the situation. “I imagine the more of us here will cause a fuss. Any volunteers?” 

The two objects she had under her gaze were automatically cut from the pool, her stern glare towards the both of them made that final. Instead she looked around the crowd to see them shrinking into each other and the anxiety was hard to ignore, of course. This still didn’t feel quite real, not until the human looks at them and says it to their faces. A frown pressed against her lips before Teddy, a normally warm presence, looked down at the human with pity. “I’ll try to talk to them.” 

Her gaze softened, seeing his barely concealed worry. “I am not expecting a full recovery, we just need to start a dialogue.” But she let go of the two objects, and sighed. As much as she believed her own words, it didn’t sound realistic for them to expect even that. 

“A dialogue? That’s not going to fix anything.” Dirk, naturally, didn’t agree. Of course. He crossed his arms and stood protectively in front of you. 

But Teddy gave him a warm expression, forgiving his bristly nature easily. “It will be a start.” He gestured towards the spot next to him, a suggestion came easy. “Get their attention with me, then. You’ll see.” 

The rest of the objects reluctantly left, of course it still left Hector in the vents and a few stragglers pretending they weren’t listening in. By this point you had debated whether destroying Skylar will eliminate the power the objects had and then made yourself sick over the thought you were willing to murder an innocent party. The silence made your ears ring and it was embarrassing how terrified you were at the thought that your question turned them against you. With wide-eyes you wonder what the correct, quickest way there was to get exactly what you wanted and for a second you considered breaking the window but wouldn’t that be murder too? 

Then you felt your hoodie tug your hovering hand towards the glasses, the suddenness made you flinch and you leaned away from the glasses. You couldn’t handle it in this state, your throat started closing up once you realized you were still expected to perform to an active audience. Really all you wanted was to leave, disappear from the conscious collective both human and object, and cease to make any impact on this world. You looked around, expression contorted into an indescribable slew of emotions, with a pitiful voice you asked. “Can’t you just let me go? I’m fine, I just don’t wanna be here anymore.” 

Dirk looked to Teddy, uncertain if he should continue when that wasn’t the expected reaction. But when he replayed the words, and those before it in his head, he came to the conclusion that you must have also been in a bad relationship but longer than he’d been in because the way you spoke felt like it was so unconscious, subtle and ingrained to your habits. Once he left Harper, he felt free to be himself again. He felt a bit nauseous once he made the connection, somehow Teddy sensed it and patted his head wordlessly. 

“Try it again.” 

So he did, pulling your good hand towards the Dateviators. You looked down at your hoodie and your expression soured, it felt too difficult. But, they weren’t giving you a choice. You sighed and picked them back up, scrunching your nose as you put them on your face. But you were stubborn, holding your breath and keeping your eyes shut. What you tried not to acknowledge was the hammering in your chest, the way your feet seemed to freeze over, and the radiating uncomfortable headache that you were more sure was a mild migraine. 

“Hey Kiddo.” A gentle, familiar voice quietly filled the air. It made you sick, you couldn’t stand it. He tried to touch your shoulder to gain a sense of how much he could hug you but, you quickly moved away hitting your bad arm on the wall and stifling any noise from escaping you. “I’m sorry, are you alright?” 

Dirk didn’t know what he was watching, it looked like this wasn’t helping at all. You somehow looked worse, more stressed, and started even pulling at the hoodie you wore. When he looked at your eyes they were desperately closed shut, he wasn’t sure why you were so scared of looking at them. He looked to Teddy who looked patient but quickly did he retract his hand, just still an edge of unease in his posture. This wasn’t going to be easy. 

“Can you ask Dorian to unlock the door? I just wanna leave, Teddy.” You were practically begging, it was desperate and your breathing felt tight, strained and you tightly clenched your jaw in perpetration to hear the worst.

The two objects looked at each other and then back to the human, it was for sure not the right answer to say no but they couldn’t say yes either. Teddy tried to keep a positive expression but even this was a bit difficult, it felt wrong having to upset you this much. “I know. I’m just here to make sure you won’t get more hurt.” 

“But you didn’t before. You don’t even fucking remember, do you?” 

At that statement it was apparent that whatever thin hold on himself Teddy had, it was not enough to suppress the lost look of disappointment and shame on his face. Because you were right, he didn’t remember much of anything from your childhood. All he did, or could conceive, was the good memories that stained your past in rose-tinted bliss. Whatever he could think of saying was quickly swallowed back down, there was nothing he could say to justify his position. 

When you didn’t get a reply, you finally opened your eyes to look and yell directly at Teddy. Your world almost went sideways when the warm colors filled your vision, it made you want to cry. “You have no idea how much I hate this house. I didn’t want to come back but the fucking economy is in shambles and owning a house is everyone’s fucking pipe dream. I’m sure that means nothing to you and the others because you were running a damned MLM scheme with my money!” You licked your lips, trying to keep yourself together and the thoughts you were having raced through your head so quickly it was hard to discern. Though you saw Dirk, it didn’t seem like you registered fully that he was there crouched next to you. 

Dirk didn’t like this. This wasn’t how he saw the conversation going at all. The words the human was saying did really sound like nonsense. He was genuinely worried, the more they prodded it seemed like the further away you moved from them. “Indigo… can you let us help?” He was nervous, tensed, and fully prepared to grab you if you decided to lose it again. But, he had no clue what could set you off. 

Chapter Text

You finally focus your eyes on him with a scowl quickly taking over your face, it wasn’t like you hated him, you just didn’t trust him. It wasn’t hard to bite back at authority but, it said something if you thought of objects as the authority of the house. The silence between the three of you was palpable, if only you noticed the uneasy sway of your teddy bear and the way your clothes seemed to smell like the day you left home. Even if there wasn’t enough of Dirk that could remember, or even experienced that day, it seemed to linger on in both of your memories. Upon taking a deep breath of both your literal and figurative clothes, it occurred to you these objects are facets of yourself. At least the two in front of you, their pulse was in the past they could not access but inherently soaked in. You buried your nose in the hoodie you wore, it was a winter morning on the verge of a snowstorm, sweat and tears mixed together, and the coppery, painful smell of a fresh bruise alongside a headache. 

“I hate you.” It is quiet, almost childish in nature considering your age. But, it wasn’t like you didn’t know this. No one saw this part of you for a reason. “When I look at you two I see myself and you guys aren’t even fucking real.” There was really little conviction in your words, it was poking at an oversensitive nerve just so they could let you go. But the shoe fit, you truly saw a mirror where one didn’t belong and to stare at them so blatantly, you’d rather die. 

Teddy understood now what you needed was not a parental figure, not when every instinct told him you and them weren’t on great terms, he couldn’t remember the last time he heard your parents’ voices. Every time he tried to gently guide you simply threw a fit, reverting back to an age he hadn’t seen in years nor did he wish to see again. People were meant to grow alongside each other, this regression was painful. But to hear they weren’t real when he very much held a consciousness and was a witness to your ever growing smile, the laugh that made him proud he was by your side, and it was even a milestone he celebrated when you no longer needed him like you once did. An apology was instinctual but, even he knew that would do nothing and he wasn’t sure if he would mean it. 

“What the hell do you mean we aren’t real?” Dirk, however, wasn’t taking what you said plainly. Not when you yourself encouraged him to find something better, nor when you seemed guilty for hitting Dorian, and the countless other times you helped out the household because you saw them as real things. “Isn’t that the whole point of the glasses?” He felt offended, even looked it too. The longer he considered your comment about the two of them just reminding you of yourself the more it pissed them off. “Just accept the damned help, you need it!” 

Your eyes lingered on Dirk, distracted by something that you’d failed to notice earlier. “You’re wearing the shirt I bought for dates. But I retired it after someone said it didn’t suit me...” 

Dirk looked at you with genuine bewilderment, he wasn’t sure what the hell was happening but he didn’t expect this. “Are you even fucking listening to me?” He leaned forward, about to shake some sense into you but Teddy stopped him and gently held his arm. With an annoyed grimace he took his arm back, it wasn’t like he was a particularly young object, shit. 

“What do you want me to say?” You reached out to grab the shirt you were staring at, but your grip was weak and if he wanted to he could’ve shaken you off.

Teddy tried to stop you, he reached out before hesitating at the last second. He didn’t want you to hurt yourself again so he firmly warned the both of you. “Stop you two.” He went ignored, both you and Dirk were already cursing each other out through looks alone. 

“I dunno, maybe actually replying to my question?” He didn’t even seem phased about being manhandled, he leaned forward and close to your face. “You can’t be this stupid. You have to know you’re worrying everyone for not fucking communicating with us!”

“I have the solution, let me outta the house.” 

“So, then what? You leave everyone behind and make me watch you fuck your life up again? Do you even have a plan?” Dirk looked disappointed, almost a bit fragile at whatever memories he conjured up. For the genuine sadness you saw as he stared down at you threw your thoughts into a metaphorical garbage blender, everything was thrown against each other and was painful to keep being angry when you were trying to gather everything in order again. 

It made you pause, your eyes desperately scanned Dirk and then your own clothes before it hit you that getting rid of old clothes was harder than you thought, things stuck around for years and you often barely remember where it comes from. Like the hoodie you were wearing, it was a shield for yourself that you took for granted. 

The fire inside you was pathetically tamed, whatever bite you had left fizzled the longer you thought about that time in your life so terrible you sold all your things and moved back home. A few clothes obviously remained, of course Dirk would know. Your grip loosened on his shirt and you looked away, ashamed and murmured. “I’ll go out naked.” 

“You wouldn’t get far.” There was a bit of fondness in that warning like it wasn’t the first time he’s heard you threaten this.

You stared down at the floor, feigning interest in the moulding of the house, but you didn’t quite let go of the tether that Dirk was. “You don’t remember the funeral.” It wasn't an accusation as much as it was the fact of the matter. You just wanted confirmation. 

It took him a moment to reply, you weren’t sure if he was truly remembering the memory until he gently replied. “Not as well as I remember the argument you had after it.” There was no amount of blame that he could reasonably put on you but, if objects only imitated what they saw as the memory of their parents grows more and more distant the longer they live, he could see why he found it easy to take Harper’s words. But, Dirk knew it was difficult to understand your reasons for helping him and seeing beyond that relationship, amongst the battlefield of many others you two have forgotten about. It is as if when it came to your own sensibilities, nothing mattered. But, the people around you were nearly worshiped with care, often to the detriment of yourself. 

Teddy ended up backing away, nearly disappearing from the conversation completely once Dirk managed to calm you down. He was worried, confused, and amazed that whatever you two shared seemed to be stuffed between fabric softener and the grime that clung to your clothes. It was an unexpected connection that he didn’t want to ruin. As much as it stung, he felt it was more important for you to have a grounding point. And upon witnessing this, he understood with great clarity that he truly knew nothing about the current you. 

It broke his heart. 

Chapter Text

You realized it was stupid to think Dirk didn’t know anything. He was intimately involved in his own very messy relationship you couldn’t even conceive the reality that if he had to watch Chappy and Harper, it would mean that he had to witness every single one of yours. He never gave any indication that he thought of you any less, no quiet looks, nor judgement for telling he and Harper it may be better if they’d separated. You knew now that your previous relationships ended in more or less the same fashion. It didn’t exist in a healthy way, Sam had told you that much before you decided enough lecturing was enough. 

That night he referenced was rough, your mother had finally died after so long of her bitterness infecting the world. The news was sudden but not unexpected, once your parents had divorced it seemed everything fell apart for your mother and everything fell slowly like autumn leaves, just the sight was hideous. Dying seemed like the next logical step, the only way you could justify seeing her face again. And when you heard the news of it, your heart still stopped. The days leading up to the funeral were blurred around the edges and the faces of the funeral workers never quite looked real to you, they all appeared as smudges in your memory. 

When it was all said and done, after touching so many people you didn’t really know, finding out about what she left behind, you wondered why you weren’t enough to get the woman they seem to be in love with. Even your father, what a monster of a man he was, came weepy-eyed clinging onto his next wife’s arm and cried into your shoulder apologies meant for his partner, not you. Your own partner stood next to you and with a meek smile greeted themselves as your friend, it passed their lips so seamlessly you almost believed them yourself. 

In the corner of the reception hall you two bickered in a nearly unintelligible barrage of whispers, they’d cornered you and for some reason you let them push you into it.

“You can’t be serious, you want to argue about this at your mother’s funeral?” 

It was already a difficult day, you don’t remember what expression you wore. “I’m just asking why you pretended to be my friend. I don’t care about my father’s opinion but, you’re still my partner.” 

“Am I? Why have I had to introduce myself, you’re not even acting like my partner so why should I?” 

You remember feeling something catch in your throat, was it shame or regret? “Come on, don’t be this way, babe.” You reached out to them for comfort but they backed away with a scoff too. 

“We’ll talk when we get home, you’re being such a manipulative bastard right now.” 

All you could remember from the rest of the funeral is that you almost broke a tooth that afternoon. 

The airplane ride home didn’t even make a blip in your memory, it was only the beginning of a long night that started as soon as you arrived to your shared apartment. Your ex closed the door a bit louder than they should have, the weight of the conversation you two had in the funeral home was soon returned in full force. 

“I hope your dad doesn’t die soon because that was a drag.” A throwaway comment, something meant almost as comedic relief from the whirlwind day you two had.

“What did you say?” 

Before you could adjust your tone, drop your things on the couch, they made their way directly to you, grabbed your collar, and stared directly into your eyes. “Don’t.” They didn’t even let you speak. Once they saw you open your mouth it was a swift slap to your face that you received. “I had to deal with your bullshit all weekend, don’t you get it? You don’t deserve my patience the way you treat me!” 

Your eyes fluttered with shock, you couldn’t think of the proper reaction while your face was entirely too warm and your ears were ringing. So they spoke again for you. “You dragged me along just to embarrass me and you can’t even say sorry?” 

The past few says were so draining you didn’t know right from wrong, it was easier to go along  until you heard yourself murmur an apology. You finally looked directly into your partner’s eyes to see a fury you’d never seen before, it weakened your resolve only a bit. “My mother died, can’t you be nicer?” 

“You didn’t even like her and you’re being a little bitch about it. Get over it, I thought you were pretending to be sad for your family, obviously not.” 

That was the start of the argument that Dirk mentioned, the one that forced you to see what a problem of a situation you were in. Left with a few bruises that left their mark beyond physical, your solution was desperate as you called Sam to come pick you up and decided then you had to sell everything and accept the house your mom left behind even if it hurt to do so. That was the last time you saw Sam in person, the years passed you by like a torrential river and before you knew it you had lost yourself to the dull drab of a monotonous life you didn’t choose for yourself. 

But a lack of choice is always a choice. How many times did you tell Sam things were going well and the job was in a busy season and there was no time for her to come visit? When the people around you saw you, they saw the thriving youth of today. Their own life was to invest in your future, nurture it, and they left the pieces behind for people like you to pick up. When you look around, the world has only gotten worse, greyer, and more hungry to cannibalise its own people. 

“Why is it so hard to be happy?” It wasn’t like you expected an answer as much as you asked Dirk, desperate to be heard. 

“Look… I uh…” He didn’t know how to answer. Dirk saw what you went through day and night but, it was an unspoken agreement since the day you acknowledged his existence that he wouldn’t pry. Its why he said nothing during the HOA meetings because your life was ultimately yours, private. But, it didn’t mean he didn’t understand or even approved of everything. He immediately noticed your tightly clenched jaw and finally had enough, he hugged you, pressed a kiss on the crown of your head and let out a soft sigh. “Hey, mind your teeth. Remember you had to go to a dentist when you cracked one a while ago.” 

Your head ended up being cradled by him, not that you minded any. The touch felt eclectic, almost uncanny that it was warm in the first place but you tried not to think about it too hard. You’re almost sure the last meaningful hug you had was the last time you saw Sam, and that made your heart ache in such an inexplicable way you couldn’t hold back the soft sniffles trying to control the situation but the tears one by one slowly fell down your cheeks. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Indigo, come on…” He gently combed through your hair nearly the same way you do when you try to comfort yourself, it felt so fuzzy when someone else did it. You didn’t want to move, just indulge and close your eyes in this position. “How’d this start anyway? Wanna talk about it? 

“Not really.” You laughed a bit, but Dirk didn’t quite take that well. He hummed disapprovingly. Ah, you finally clued in that he was being serious. “I just… realized how shit my life is. Mm.” You opened your eyes to look down at the very real to you arm wrapped around you, slotted together seamlessly and still in the back of your head you knew more than he and you were in the room. “I got so used to being alone. Living the same day for years felt like obligation, then I suddenly am told I can talk to people again? But they don’t exist, no one knows them, and when the day ends, they poof like Cinderella?” 

He was trying to be respectful but he didn’t know if he fully understood the reference. So he hesitated to ask. “Uhm… Cinderella?” 

“You guys don’t exist when the glasses die.” You sigh, and its easy to remember how bitter the world felt outside of your bubble of subservience. “At least my ex was there 24/7 to yell at me.”

“That’s not okay, you know it too.” 

“No, but I can’t live like this either Dirk.” 

He tried to consider it, but he was way out of his depth. He knew what it was like to live and you were right, living meant leaving the home. But in this state? He held onto you tighter, forgetting to consider your injury. He was lucky he didn’t hurt you. “You’re gonna try again, aren’t you?” 

“What else should I do? You think people like me? Like humans, the real deal?” You sounded tired but relaxed, what a fun feeling. You felt no remorse for saying what you were truly thinking. “Mm. You know the only person that still talks to me does it because she feels obligated to?” 

“What about the other objects? The Dateviators? I’m not enough… for you?”  He was hurt by the thought. Dirk, however, couldn’t say he was surprised. It wasn’t like he hasn’t seen you consider ending your life, he just hoped the last time…. would’ve been the last.

With a smile you leaned back your head to look up at Dirk, it was full of that kind of fondness you gave people when you were trying to shake them off the trail. “Last I checked, you guys barely know what its like to live. You’re functionally immortals. How would you even begin?” 

Dirk looked down at the glasses and nearly pulled them off your face knowing how hard it was to get you to wear them. He hated seeing the smile you gave him. It was cruel. “Are you sure the only solution is dying?” 

“Hm.” You didn’t reply, instead with the same sly smile you asked Dirk. “Care for a drink? I need pain medicine for my hand too…” 

“... Can you let the others come see you?” Maybe if you spoke to others they’d get to you, someone has to. He felt his heartbeat racing because he knew he couldn’t do anything to change your mind and it scared him. He cared so much about you, he didn’t want to lose you. 

“Only if I’m absolutely smashed. So I’m gonna do just that, alright?” You slipped your good hand out of the hug that Dirk had you in to take off your glasses but Dirk stopped you by grabbing it. 

Dirk changed his mind, they needed to glue the glasses to your face. He couldn’t control what you were doing if he couldn’t touch you. “Fuck no.” He looked angry, but that’s only because he was scared. “If you’re getting wasted its with me next to you.” 

“Nah.” You used the last of your strength to push Dirk away and fling off the glasses with your injured arm before he could yell at you to stop.

Chapter Text

Dirk stayed on the floor stunned while you slowly stood up, the weight of your body being too much for you to stand up straight. His heart felt like acid, his lungs burned, and he stared at you with wide, fearful eyes without a word being yelled at you. He knew it would be in vain. Looking around hearing his heartbeat in his ears and feeling it in his throat all at once made it so overwhelming it took him a second to stumble to you, trying to pull on your clothes to pay attention to him. He was cursing underneath his breath, trying not to indulge in the very intense emotions he was feeling because he needed to be lucid. 

“FUCK! Someone help, Indigo’s gonna do something stupid.” He felt unbelievably attached with you when in the past while he felt bad, it felt like your business he shouldn’t partake in. But this was personal, you guys knew each other. He knew that if you only took some time and thought about it, you could get your life back together like you did when you went off for university. 

It was Betty that picked him up off the ground and dusted his clothes off, with a gentle expression and grounding voice she tried to get him to breathe. “It’s been only a second since the human took off the glasses, it’s going to be okay, Dirk. You’re going to be okay.” She looked around the room now suddenly abuzz with the objects that were very not so subtly watching. She glanced over to watch you pocket the glasses and using the closet doors as a stabiliser to make your way downstairs. She softly smiled at him and brought him in for a hug, “It’s no use panicking right now, we have to trust their word, alright?” 

Dirk had to convince himself it was true even if this fragile trust is built up on a fluctuating goodwill that you hardly carried with you. It took him a moment until he realized there was nothing they could do but wait. That didn’t stop his keen awareness of you making your way downstairs when it was instinctively projected in the back of his mind, he didn’t really want to let you go alone but it might have been more stressful if he had followed . Betty slowly let him go and stood by his side to make sure he wasn’t going to do anything unreasonable or without a plan. 

She looked sympathetic, like she understood the weight of the world on his shoulders. In a way, she did carry the weight of her own world nightly, so she did get it. But Dirk knew more than anyone else did about the better days, the crying in frustration during the bad ones, and it was just about as intimate as he could get without getting in your head. That one, that was more difficult to pretend he understood. “They’re right, you know? We don’t know what its like out there, I barely can wrap my head around it.” 

“That’s okay, Dirk.” She tilts her head, fondness and comfort easing out of her so naturally. “We can just give them as much love and patience that we can, its nothing out of our hands.” 

He looked away from her with a half smile that didn’t meet his eyes, he hated to have to explain this to her because it invalidated their existences. But, he’d coped with it his entire life. “Betty… its not that easy. We can love them our own way but, I don’t think that’s what Indigo is looking for.” He took a breath in and sighed, only then returning her gaze, “We can’t… I mean, it isn’t possible for most of us to leave the home. What if they want to introduce us to another person? The Dateviators are only for one. And we can’t contribute to the household, we don’t really know what its like to die…” 

Dirk was right, the more things he pointed out the more it seemed difficult to maintain. They understood what it was like to live to a certain extent. It was harder to pretend they were a functional society that could live side-by-side with humans. “Then, its our job to help them get to a place where we can confidently let them leave, right?” 

Dirk nodded his head, there was nothing else he could say. 

Teddy wearily approached, he wore a warm smile but anyone could tell there was a great deal of remorse in there too. Betty softly rubbed Teddy’s back and asked him, “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, I am.” Teddy didn’t really know how to ask this question, a pressing curiosity that he wanted answered. But, it seems like that was harder done than said. “How… What happened while I was gone?” 

Dirk shrugged, it wasn’t like he was fully keeping track but instead he woke up and realised that you were in a bad way. He returned the smile but, it was entirely too bitter. “I’m not even sure, the teenage years were a blur and just a few years ago…” He trailed off as he crossed his arms protectively and shifted his weight away from both Betty and Teddy, he didn’t want to admit it. “The human they were involved with fucking sucked.” 

Both Teddy and Betty looked at each other and said nothing in reply. It wasn’t like they really knew what that meant but, the smile across his face didn’t even seem the faintest of pleased. He looked angry but just a bit scared, no one wanted to ask prying questions. 

Dorian, though not in the mood to apologize approached the group with his ego largely still in tact from the earlier scuffle and stated firmly. “I’ll watch after the human and so will Hector.” He nodded to Dirk, at least giving him the respect he deserved. “We’ll intervene if we see something untoward. Thanks for getting through to them.”

Dirk, however, was not quick to forgive. “You two better not cause them to freak out again.” He didn’t want to think about what you were doing but he wasn’t going to be deterred by his own emotions. 

“I want harmony in the household as much as you do.” Luckily at least one of the two objects was willing to back down from an argument. “We’re not enemies, Dirk. I care about them too, so I will do everything in my power to help.” 

Betty watched both of them carefully and even put a gentle hand on Teddy’s shoulder to keep him grounded, it was a high stress situation but it was always better to keep everyone steady. She wasn’t very happy about it, and found herself wondering if you were alright downstairs. 

“But, are we doing more harm than help, Dorian?” Dirk looked unsure, like the question rattling in the air was bothering him just by acknowledging it. 

It made Dorian visibly hesitate. He glanced over, not moving his head, towards where Skylar was chatting with Celia about next steps. Now, if she heard that, it would be a problem because it wasn’t solely her fault just because she gave them the power to acknowledge them. It came from something that really only Dirk seemed to know. He didn’t have an easy answer. “It is the only thing we can do.”

No one particularly felt interested in continuing the conversation, it fizzled out after a prolonged silence filled the group. 

Chapter Text

All the while you made your way downstairs rather simply, murmuring a greeting every so often when you passed by a new room or object. With a smile you strolled into the Kitchen and before anything you realized how unbelievably thirsty you were, your better senses didn’t fully go away and you pulled out a cup to take water from the fridge. The mundaneness of it all, the quiet house, the lingering warmth of that hug distracted you to the extent that you overfilled the cup of water. The noise of the water hitting the floor clued you in that you were spacing out and you stared down at the puddle for a moment before taking a sip of your cup, walking away to take care of it later. Of course you weren’t an alcoholic, so it made sense to have your drinks as a simple rum and coke. And that’s what you prepared yourself, at some point you weren’t sure how many you truly had. 

A few of the more concerned household objects stayed in the shadows of the room, not sure if they were willing to breech this sense of calm with any of their shenanigans but, eventually it became clear you were not willing to put on the glasses even after a few rounds of your haphazard cocktails. The glow from your phone and the gentle hum of a running television eventually became the only sign of life in the home, the blue light spilling into the dining room wasn’t nearly enough to illuminate the kitchen table. It instead made it feel as though the light couldn’t quite touch that part of the house. Your occasional snickers did nothing to ease the anticipation of being able for once speak to you. 

Though eventually your body felt heavy, the warmth in your core was satisfactory enough to start melting into the table in the kitchen. Your arm at least didn’t feel as bad, and your thoughts were a bit scattered, your focus entirely on your phone watching some sort of video you don’t remember putting on. Your world seemed a bit fuzzy in the edges and it took you a moment to fully realize that you had a series of reminders, blinking while you slowly sat up and felt your world shift like you were on a boat, you felt great but at the conscious cost of your coordination. It didn’t quite feel like enough, you still remembered the whole reason you were this way. 

Still, it was enough to take a moment of blinking and processing that the dateables, your lovely objects, were asking you to put on the glasses. You looked around, half expecting them to already be around before taping around the table and the top of your head. It didn’t quite make sense why you couldn’t find them, you were sure you had the glasses. “Guys… you remember where I left em? I can’t…” The buzz of your phone caught your attention and with a slow blink you leaned over to read, your eyebrows furrowed when you read the reminder and pat your hoodie pocket to feel the glasses right where you supposedly left them. With a soft hum you pulled them out of your pocket and stared at them for a good while, the thoughts passing you by but you couldn’t quite catch them all. The only prevalent worry is that the house would be too loud, maybe you could convince them to throw a houseparty? You quietly laughed to yourself and rubbed your face on the side of your arm, “Mmm, I don’t have to right?” It wasn’t very clear what you were asking about at all. 

Though a smile remained on your face while you closed your eyes, the only prevalent idea you had rolling around the mind was running away. It was so suffocating to have to perform for things that weren’t even real. But, paradoxically, were the realest people you’d met. You laughed to yourself, your chest so cold, and in reaction, you put down the glasses and poured more rum into your cup with a disregard for the ratio and the soft glug of the bottle was the only thing you focused on. You didn’t even care when you spilled some on the table. Finding it simple to put down the bottle and wipe it away with your hoodie sleeve, you took a big drink and relished in the renewed burn. But, it still didn’t taste quite potent enough and you poured more until it was probably more rum and less coke. The phone at this point was brightening up in reminders that grew more and more desperate, as soon as you read them though, the exact words seemed to fizzle away from your brain. 

“Look, Phoenicia, I get it. You’re being asked to bother me, just let them know I’m not really in the fucking mood right now.” You said it with a smile, directly looking at your phone as if it were really capable of talking back at the moment. It was hard not to want to listen to her worries but a part of you really didn’t think you wanted to talk. The phone illuminated the kitchen still, the reminders blurring into your subconscious mind. “I just, no debby downers, got it? Google that shit if you have to but, none of it.” 

It suddenly occurred to you that your phone was playing your music, you weren’t sure why at all. That didn’t really matter though, not when you found yourself absentmindedly staring at the living room where the voices of the TV gave the illusion of a house not devoid of humans. No time at all had passed from now and then. Your parents were still together, your room located on the ground floor, and a bitter case of insomnia that you’d only recently reined in. The colors plastered on the walls that you could see barely from here were enough to remind you of how the house used to look, where your parents used to sit, and gave you a sick sense of nostalgia for a time you had largely forgotten. That night they were cuddled on the couch as if love was easy for them, they spoke amongst themselves as if you didn’t come out of your room to go to the restroom at night, they laughed as if they wouldn’t fight in the same night they shared a kiss. You only wanted a peek after waking up to go to the restroom, somewhere in your head you justified it as an opportunity to see what to anticipate the next morning. With the love they had for each other all spent in that intimacy of their cuddling, they decided to bond over your behavior and their disappointments leaking through somehow still stung. 

Whatever meaningless television show had laughed while they spoke about how painfully inept you were at school, your mother sighed and said something about how they should’ve put you in tutoring when they saw you struggle in your theater class. Your father grumbled about your inability to focus on school and extracurriculars, how much he sacrificed to get you where you were today. The least you could do, to him, was to be present in your own life enough to actually work hard at school. You remembered that your ears burned until they hurt to the touch and you stood there in the kitchen without being able to say a word without severe consequences. You already felt like a failure at the time and hearing the words made a cold, heavy feeling coiling painfully around your heart. At the time you weren’t sure how you were still breathing when the words alone made you feel a sharp stabbing feeling for just taking another breath in. The floor felt warm in comparison to your body, the lingering emptiness of knowing that you will not only never be enough for your parents but they genuinely hated who you had become. 

Then a shrill came from the speaker of your phone and made you flinch, partly in pain and partly in fear, and you looked over to it with a dreary confusion, “That wasn’t very nice?” Your smile was one of confusion too as you scanned the air almost being able to see a her in front of you. In an instinct to self-soothe, you moved the hand you’d been resting close to your body and you flinched only to hiss at the pain and hit the table with your good fist to avoid screaming. The neighbors didn’t need to see, what would they make sense of a person so drunk they insist on wearing sunglasses at night. It is so fucking funny, isn’t it? You laughed before leaning towards the table, something in that made you realize how much it hurt you still that you weren’t good enough for anyone in your life and you’ve been isolated for years because you will never be good enough and whatever effort you make now is meaningless because not only are there more desperate days ahead but eventually, in the near future you were entirely sure that you sold your soul to Valdivian by signing a bogus employee contract and going through onboarding. Fuck, you weren’t drunk enough. Still, like usual, you could think even if it was not the same thoughts, it was lucidity you sought to destroy. 

You took a long, deep swig of your drink and then another before sighing, and hearing your phone come to life again through an alarm. It broke through your walls and you picked up the Dateviators and threw it away from you despite it being the phone causing the real damage here. “Shut up!” It didn’t go far, how could it when you were pissed out of your mind? But it was the intent that filled your blood with acidic guilt that you stumbled — more like fell — of your chair to crawl towards the glasses, you stared over it for a moment to get a look at them but it wasn’t clear how much damage it took. But that uncertainty made it so you picked them up and held it close to your heart, trying to ground yourself all the while you said. “Fuck, fuck, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s ok, right? We’re fine, right? I won’t- I can’t do that again. I’m sorry, that’s- It’s not okay.” You didn’t want to do that, you never wanted to harm someone and you already beat up Dorian and haven’t even seen him to ask for his forgiveness and here you were already destroying more property. The nausea of moving rushed through your body and made you feel sick to your stomach, your head throbbed at every slight movement and the world was spinning so fast you were almost sure it was ending if you didn’t know you’d been drinking. You felt your body shake with every heartbeat, your hands were trembling and the only thing you wanted to do was scream. 

You did the next best thing, slowly rising from the floor and lumbering over the table to refresh your drink, and then took your cup to fully finish it off. You closed your eyes for a moment to feel the burn down your throat and your world going sideways, laughing at the absurdity of your life the more you thought about it. The phone stopped lighting up, but you knew your obligation, perhaps your fate would look something like getting annihilated by objects who wanted you dead. Then, would that still count as suicide or would it be an unsolved mystery? 

You put on the glasses fully expecting a show and all you could hear was the very loud chatter of all the datables, they hadn’t even noticed you put on the glasses. 

Farya, now closer to her medical hub, was fretting over Skylar rightfully so, her equally as thrilled as worried expression was confusing but comforting for Skylar. At least that’s what you assume. “Oh Skylar! Did you break anything? Do we need a splint? Are we able to wrap something or… or are you alright?” 

She looked dishevelled a bit, but perfectly fine. Maybe a bit disoriented. How could you even tell when the world looked as though you were seeing it from someone else’s eyes that were not your own? “Yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry!” You weren’t stupid enough to miss her smile, always a bit unsure like your own, it wasn’t really okay. “They already apologized, it’s water under the bridge. I think we need to focus on them more than me.” She even did a twirl for Farya and insisted. “Look! Everything is in place.” 

The huddle, now that you looked away from the pink-haired object, consisted of very familiar faces that all looked for sure concerned. The kind gaze of Teddy, you couldn’t even hear what he said to her but, he was gentle and entirely focused on soothing her. There was Betty, already gently asking Farya to check a bit slower, maybe, and communicating with ease. Even Dorian was there, taking his own notes on what happened. Everyone was rallied around her, you weren’t sure if you thought that was positive or if that was just simply your last straw. You didn’t know what you were feeling at all, it was hard to understand it when you could only fully focus on the fact you were losing your balance. 

You weren’t that selfish. You didn’t deserve their time. But, you weren’t entirely sure why it hurt to see. 

You flopped back on the kitchen chair, accidentally making it shift back, everyone’s attention zoned in on you with a surprised, caught off guard look and in that same motion you moved to take off the glasses to give yourself a moment. But Dorian, the most reactive of the group, seemed to rush toward you, his towering build was normally not an issue but with the dark, shadowy kitchen and your very very inebriated self couldn’t fully rationalize what was coming towards you, you flinched into yourself and raised your only free, injured arm to shield your face. 

Dorian, caught off guard, took a step back from you and raised his arms where you could see them. “Woah. It’s me Dorian.” You didn’t need that introduction or better yet you barely heard it and instead you had only one thought in mind, get away. “Are you-”

His question cut early, you fell off the chair by leaning too far away from him and fell on your back, knocking the wind out of you and you gasped for air while looking up at the dark ceiling. There was no use, why were you still fighting? The world was so vastly hostile, it always has been, if it was existential it meant that things were true. From the dawn of neanderthals and homo sapiens, we were expected to work together to fight against impossible odds, impossible climates, impossible hunts all to provide a path to where modern man is now. And though we live in luxury, “Are we even free?” You couldn’t see a world where your heart beat erratically not for the fear of death but for the fear of life, a years long commitment to unhappiness, loneliness, and absolute mundane dread of living and dying in a town that wanted nothing more than your soul and to provide her with more and more worker bees. Freedom, a choice to be made to continue striving, didn’t mean the same thing anymore. Dreams, free time, and a fulfilling life were for those who were rich or delusional. 

You didn’t realize, thoughts thundering in your head making it impossible to focus in the real world, but Dorian immediately came to your side with regret clear on his face for not being prepared enough. He was saying something to you, trying to get through to you, if only you were listening. If you wanted to witness this maybe you shouldn’t have drunk the rest, but it burned sweetly in your stomach nonetheless. The thoughts didn’t stop even when he started to lift you up off of the kitchen floor, did you hit your head? You couldn’t really tell, your body didn’t really feel all there. 

War, famine and suffering were made inevitable. True freedom existed only in the books of yesterday. No one was free. You were ruled by fear, absence of care, and entirely knowing that you, of all people in this world, could never be loved by even the most compassionate. Money ruled your life, that’s why you took soul crushing jobs and why you felt so out of touch with yourself its no wonder, its no wonder. “I think you guys are freer than me. I think you guys don’t know, you don’t fucking know.” You clutched now at the closest thing to you, feeling a suit was not the thing you were expecting, but you clawed at it only to find the face to the person and when you saw Dorian you leaned slightly back, the shame washing over you in waves. The keys around his neck jingled as he tried to get you upright, the rumble of his voice underneath your hand was surreal, you didn’t know quite what he was saying not really. 

It wasn’t even something you had conscious control of, you just started tearing up from the guilt that still remained and you tried to speak but the words felt heavy against your chest. “I’m so sorry Dorian. You’re not hurt, right? I care about you so much I don’t want you to be mad at me, I promise I won’t do it again. I’m not trying to hurt the house I just don’t- I forget you guys are things and, and I can’t deal with all these emotions, I don’t know where they’re coming from.” You, by this point, were holding onto him to dear life, trying to get him to fully understand how much you regretted your actions. 

Dorian honestly was more concerned with making sure you didn’t hurt yourself even further, the kitchen lights were flipped on by someone else and he scanned the back of your head to find nothing out of the ordinary. But to see you trembling, still rambling on about forgiveness, he almost could forget the comments of freedom that he really had no time for. “It’s fine, love. I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t cry, I didn’t even get hurt.” He slowly stood and tried to put you on your feet, unsteady you swayed before reaching out to the bottle that was more empty than not, he stopped you from grabbing it. “I think you’ve had enough.” 

But you looked back at him with puppy eyes, looking as though he’d kicked you down the stairs. “But, I’m not done. Just a little more?” This certainly had to be some form of manipulation, that much he knew to be true, but he never thought you’d go that far even in desperation. He felt like it was safer to agree with you but, you could barely stand straight at all. It didn’t even seem like you cared about your hand that looked much worse in the light, it was practically purple. 

“Look, let’s get you settled. Then we can talk about drinking some more.” He tried to remain amicable, it was lucky that to you it didn’t seem like you could fully register the others murmuring around you and the concerned stares you were receiving. Dorian hoped you wouldn’t press the matter further and held you up, debating if he should just carry you to your room or if he’d give you the indignant dignity to walk upstairs. 

“Settled, why? You’re sick of me already? Do you want me to go away? I can, just get me my shoes I’ll get out of your hair, I promise. I’ll do it, just I-”

“Don’t worry, I just find it more comfortable upstairs. I’m more than happy with your presence.” He said it to appease, right? You wanted to believe him. Your hand never stopped gripping on his suit because you were terrified he’d disappear in the blink of an eye.

While this was happening, Dirk watched almost absentmindedly. He’d forgotten this time he could touch you, tell you something to calm you, it all seemed so far away. He stared in a trance convinced there was nothing he could do when the more you spoke, the less he understood. There was something that everyone was trying to ignore, a sort of existentialism they couldn’t cope with, that now was starting to eat at his mind without abandon. Just seeing you for once interacting with the household objects, melting into Dorian because you were so fucking drunk, what did they know about the world you lived in if they never stepped outside of the home? The place where intimacy is given, a safe haven from prying eyes, if bad happened behind those doors it stayed there where it belonged. But in the world outside of it, in the times where they had no eyes or taste for observation, how could they understand? Imitation was flattery but it was cheap. 

He abandoned the part of his consciousness that protected him from all the memories, even those he promised himself never to revisit, it was paralysing to know you remembered a great deal of this and never gave it more of a glance. But its what makes you up as a person, the things that worry you are far beyond their comprehension, this was obvious from the start. It shouldn’t have been a problem. Logically, you and the others were never going to fully understand each other because objects were nothing more but an imitation of an imitation, a desire sparked in them to be human-like but did that come from a source to cope or from admiration? 

They were out of their depth, there was nothing they could do.

Chapter Text

No one could stop you from leaning over as you walked past the table and grabbing the bottle, Dorian had his hands full and to inundate your field of view was the last thing they wanted. Hector could only shout but by that point, you’d taken a large swig before it was gently pried out of your admittedly strong grip for being exhausted and drunk. Dorian looked puzzled as to how you managed and passed off the bottle to Beverly to put away. 

Then you blinked into consciousness once more, a gasp of surprise left you when you blinked up at a face that was only briefly silhouetted when the TV flashed white. It buzzed with a drone, a quiet hum of static still settled in the back of your mind despite it not really being there, and you almost expected someone different when she turned to the side to grab something from someone else that you also couldn’t quite make up. “Who’re you?” 

Then when she grabbed your hand and finally spoke, it started to make a little sense. “You can’t really forget me so easily, I’m the only qualified medical professional.” She seemed cheery enough but you couldn’t quite see her so you moved to take off your glasses to wipe them, she held onto your hand a bit tighter. “Not yet, no moving. I’m making sure you are properly protected against germs, infections, future cuts and more. So be a good patient and sit still.” 

Wait. That’s Farya. But as soon as you realized that, you seemed to sink into the couch and close your eyes or that’s maybe what happened. You don’t remember. 

When you opened them again, you slowly blinked to see the living room washed in a weirdly dimly lit warm hue or was that the glasses? Nonetheless, you see a few people standing over you, looking an awful lot like bad news. It took a moment for you to slowly blink away the bleariness of your temporary nap and realize it was Dorian who primarily took up your view. 

“We can’t do anything for their pain?” That voice was definitely Dorian’s.

“No, it’s dangerous to mix alcohol and medication, especially painkillers. But… it looks like they can’t feel it anyways.” Farya! She did a good job didn’t she? You looked down at your hands and your eyebrows furrowed when you saw that you weren’t wearing your hoodie anymore. 

In a stressed voice you couldn’t hold back you looked up and asked Dorian, “Where’s my hoodie? Did I throw it off? I swear I had it.” You started looking around with futility, your hands patting around the couch and even behind you, proving Farya’s assertion you really couldn’t feel it all that much. At least for a bit, because the pain came in a slow, almost dull, nearly imperceptible way and it made you a bit dizzy. “Woah…” 

“Love, don’t. I have it in my hand, look.” He shoved it in your face, the correct thing to do, and he sighed when he realized he was fighting a losing battle with both you and Farya. “Come on, up you go. You promised me you’d go upstairs after this.”

You didn’t remember saying that. But at the sight of your hoodie and more bandaged hands you smiled up at Dorian, “Could you carry me to a vent? I wanna ask Hector something.” It was mischievous, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking and that expression you wore on your face seemed different to say the least. 

Dorian wasn’t sure, or rather convinced, if he should indulge you. “Can’t you ask that from where you are?” 

“No, I wanna see his eyes when I ask it.” You practically giggled as you stood up and expectantly awaited your request to be fulfilled, as you took a scan of the living room you lost sight of where Farya went. Huh. 

He couldn’t believe he was actually carrying you on his shoulder and even approaching the vent with the full knowledge if you wanted to speak with Hector directly the attic was the place to go. But what melted his resolve was the fact you seemed giddy, for once carefree, and pleased with yourself. 

“Hector!” You weren’t quiet, the whole house could’ve probably heard your whisper. But obligingly the eyes appeared where you expected them. Before he could even get a word in, you began with your request. “Wanna make out with me? We can do it here, Dorian’s got me.” 

“Hey. What?” Of course you would do this. He had half a mind to put you down until Hector himself started speaking, a bit nervously too. 

“O-Oh, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea. As much as I’d love that, its just I need a bit of time to prepare, we don’t wanna rush into things. Let’s revisit this tomorrow, okay? Then I can give you all the affection you desire, I promise.” He even held your hand through the grate, it was heartfelt but a bit too clinical of a rejection for your drunken tastes. 

“But-” 

Dorian didn’t want to be mean but, this couldn’t go well if he let you convince Hector. Mostly because he was sure Hector didn’t need much convincing to kiss you, he lived for your pleasure. So, he had to save the situation. “He said no. You’re going to respect his answer.” It was firm and even more stern than usual. He slowly pulled you away from Hector with a sigh and decided that was enough indulging, so he carried you upstairs without another word. 

“Hey!” You seemed angry, even offended, as you playfully hit Dorian in the shoulder as he moved you to his arms. “You’re being the biggest cockblock right now, holy shit Dorian.” Then an idea passes your mind and you try to look at him as he goes up the stairs slowly, probably so he wouldn’t jostle you too much. With the satisfied smile of a cat who caught the fish you laughed to yourself and asked him the same question. “Wait does that mean you wanna make out?” 

Dorian didn’t know if he should be grateful for the shift in your behavior or worried that it happened in the first place. He reached the landing, finally, and walked into your bedroom. He couldn’t really tell if you were being serious but, you must’ve wanted it a little bit? It wouldn’t make sense to ask all of a sudden, right? He slowly put you down to sit on your bed and shook his head. “No, I don’t. And just because Skylar told you that you could date the datables doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“Aww but what’s the fun in that?” You tilted your head, genuinely confused. 

“I guess there’s no point in arguing with you.” It was pathetic how little defenses he had against you when all you were was extremely sloshed. Dorian felt like it really would be kicking a puppy if he let you down. 

There was no ignoring it now, your body seemed to be really fighting you back on everything you drank, something didn’t feel right. You stood up from the bed and took note of how erratic your heart was, it felt tense but also hard not to become nauseous over the speed of it. You did ignore it in favor of making your way to the restroom and you could feel Dorian’s gaze burning your back but chose to ignore that as well. 

Once you closed the door everything seemed to hit you all at once, you felt unbelievably sick and there was nothing you can do to temper the feeling right away. Though you expected it to be gone after you used the restroom, the feeling still lingered. It felt daunting, the uncomfortable feeling was still set somewhere deep inside your body. You had a feeling the only way to fix it was to vomit, that usually cleared it up a bit and made room for your better sensibilities to come back. At least that’s what you would’ve done in any circumstance, it was a no brainer. You forced yourself to wretch at the sink, wheezing and coughing when nothing in particular came up. So you tried again, gasping for air as you struggled to pass anything through. Whatever it was, you felt that it nested somewhere in your stomach and half-way up your diaphragm, your heart kept beating harder and somehow slower but faster at the same time,  you felt faint. Despite the fact you were holding onto the counter, your entire world felt like someone tilt the scale of the ground and you went sideways immediately.

Dorian by this point was already calling out to you, it was just that you were entirely focused on throwing up you never heard him above yourself. When he heard you collapse, falling on the floor like a sack of flour, he had no qualms about opening the door. What greeted him didn’t look good at all, you were sprawled out on the floor without any indication you were awake at all. He immediately went to your side and started to gently push you awake, maybe you were playing a prank? But even when he slowly sat you up, you were completely limp and unresponsive. This was not normal. “Hey, don’t do that. This isn’t funny.” The only conclusion he could get was that it hit you all at once, which made sense. But the anxiety crawled around you and manifested in him very gently proding at you to get some kind of reaction. It wasn’t happening quick enough. 

Dirk appearing out of no where, breathless from who knows what, looked into the bathroom to see you propped up in Dorian’s arms. Before they could address anything you slightly opened your eyes only for them to witness every single attempt at vomiting rushed at you all at once. You don’t even know how you made it to the toilet, someone was there rubbing your back as you emptied yourself of the alcohol. 

“Shit. They didn’t eat anything even after drinking, right?” Dirk felt annoyed, honestly he didn’t want to be upset with you but this was pushing it. 

Dorian, still holding you up, looked a bit confused. They were all watching over you so why didn’t Dirk know what happened? “Weren’t you there?” 

He looked a bit taken aback, Dirk was embarrassed to admit the truth because he really didn’t think any of the members of the household would fully understand. “Uh, yeah but… I was busy talking with Teddy.” 

As much of a silence in between you coughing and crying reflexively passed them by, they both vigilantly watched over you and even took turns making sure you weren’t completely drenched in your own tears and snot. It didn’t look abnormal yet but, they were almost positive you couldn’t hear a thing beyond yourself. 

There was something weighing on Dorian’s mind that he couldn’t quite let go. “Have they always been like this?” He was confused, trying to measure up what cheerful energy you brought to now and this consistent nearly suffocating dreariness they were witnessing. 

Dirk shrugged as he tucked a stray hair of yours back behind your ear and after the careful observation, they both pulled you up and started to clean you up as best as possible. He looked to Dorian to make sure he knew he was talking to him, “I can’t remember that well before they became an adult, so I guess… as far as I know, it was kind of on and off…” He looked a bit nostalgic the longer he thought about it, “But, I should’ve noticed the past few years were too… stagnant.” He laughed, not sure if he wanted to take the blame, it was difficult to accept even this for now. 

“Come on, you need to get rest.” Dorian spoke to you, even though it was becoming more obvious that you weren’t quite there. It should all be solved with rest, right? They didn’t really know how much was too much, not when they were objects and even the concept of getting too drunk wasn’t concrete. Everyone combined had a good idea on what that looked like and they could rely on Farya if they really weren’t sure. With that confidence, Dorian and Dirk carefully changed your shirt so that you wouldn’t lie in bed with a disgusting shirt. 

“I doubt you would have, you had Harper on your hands.” It wasn’t judgement even if it felt that way to Dirk. He flinched once he thought about it longer, it was embarrassing now. He couldn’t believe he let himself get that far when he did have knowledge of your own relationships. Ah fuck. 

Dirk didn’t want to indulge in this conversation but, they put you to bed together and he sighed once they made sure you were comfortable. They stood by the Hallway now just in case you remembered any of this tomorrow. The conversation was picked up like it was never put down in the first place. “I don’t need your pity, Dorian.” 

“It’s not pity.” 

Dirk deflated, his shoulders slumped as he felt his body get heavier at the thought of this being more complicated than it already was. He really didn’t want to talk about something he could barely swallow himself. “Well I’m not gonna answer all your questions about Indigo either.” 

“Right.” Dorian looked genuinely annoyed at the very little progress he’d made between Dirk and understanding the situation. But, if they just gained their consciousness to be more grounded, he shouldn’t expect anything more. 

The two of them became your unofficial bodyguards and as a result were hounded for answers neither of them really wanted to give. It was surely on some level the entire household’s right to know what happened but, this situation was sudden and uncertain. So the truth was given with a tight lipped smile and a palpable hesitation. 

As all things do, things didn’t go according to their plan but, maybe yours. 

“Dirk! Dorian! They’re not looking good, I’m worried.” 

You were in a bed, maybe it was yours, you can barely remember how you got here. Nothing felt right. This must be a dream, your head spun even thinking about thinking. There was no use trying, you close your eyes despite the weird weight still resting on the bridge of your nose. Maybe, just maybe, you were finally out for the count.

“Uhm… Guys, I know this is very so terrible timing but, the Dateviators are running low on battery. I’m so sorry, I’m trying my best to keep them on as long as possible but…” A voice, she was on edge, you couldn’t understand but maybe your soul did. It was bad news. 

That is more than worry in the air, you heard screaming but that’s it. “Shit! But what if they vomit? Look they’re- fuck!” Why was he pacing, what was the matter? 

“I’m sorry! I’m trying my best.” She was stressed and still apologetic, how selfless. 

“Let’s prop them up before we run out of time, minimizing the risk and all.” A new voice, measured but concerned. It was in his best interest to move things along rather than get stuck on the specifics. 

She was regal, as always, you wondered if you even deserved respect with her around. “We will still be around even if we can’t touch them. Don’t catastrophize now.” 

“Are you sure we can’t do that now?” The worry spoke again, sharp, like he wanted to wound. 

It was cold, you were shivering and it almost felt like you were dying from it, you could feel it was already difficult to breathe and focusing on that felt like a task meant for a stronger person than you. Even still, you curled into yourself, your teeth would’ve been clattering if you had the energy to. Instead, you were so cold to the touch and yet so drenched in sweat.

“If we start now, we’ll miss the chance to help.” As firm as it was, he had a point. 

“Look… maybe we need to talk while the Dateviators charge, I’m worried.” A gentle voice, one too paternal for your liking. If only you could get rid of the yearning in your heart that kept him around in hopes it could fill it. 

What an angry, ugly kind of worry. “Like hell we will, I’m not leaving Indigo’s side.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t even be sure if your eyes were open or closed because the only thing you could really register is the light. It all was so confusing, you just needed to stop thinking and start sleeping just like you really wanted to. 

The firm, concerned voice snapped into distress, maybe he wanted to cry. “You aren’t the only one worried, Dirk!” It sounded like a scuffle happened or was that your bile rising up your throat, burning and curling acid into your bloodstream. “We hear them too, don’t you think its selfish to keep yourself as isolated as them?”

“Don’t even start, this isn’t about me.” 

It genuinely hurt to breathe, your lungs burned while also feeling like there was a hole in them preventing them from filling up all the way. Even your diaphragm felt like it was fighting against you to take air in, a sharp stabbing pain filled your stomach at every attempt. It hurt to exist. 

“Guys. Not now.” She spoke again, her regal voice made the room go quiet. Who was she? “Have we found a way to get them to drink water before we won’t be able to access them?” 

“...No but… maybe they drank enough earlier?” A woman spoke, she was spirited in nature but this whatever it was, it was dull and serious. 

It was a bit odd but the shirt you wore felt heavy and sticky, your face uncomfortable and your hair even clung to your face uncomfortably. You heard the word water, your body needed some desperately. Why didn’t they want to give you water? 

Wait, why were there people in your house when you lived alone? 

“Okay. We have only a minute or two left, make it count everyone.” She tried to remain cheerful but the edge of concern was there. 

“We’ll always be here, Kiddo.” Gentle, full of warmth, you wish it was truly your father for once.

It was conciliatory, maybe more for him despite his firm convictions. “Rest well, love. We’ll be back, just a moment away for now.” 

“I will watch over you while you sleep, I’ll keep you comfortable.” A nice voice, its a shame he was anxious. 

“Wake up soon, okay? Please?” The worry with no hope of return, huh? 

And then, as your luck would have it, your world went black.