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2018-06-28
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2023-12-19
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When My Fist Clenches, Crack It Open

Summary:

More than anything else, David wants to believe he's not sick because that means he isn't crazy. It means he can fall in love and live happily ever after. But if he surrenders to that hope and he's wrong, then there's no coming back.

The Shadow King is victorious, but the battle for David Haller’s soul has only begun. David fails to escape Division 3's intervention and is forced into therapy. With his relationships ruined, his mind split, and his past a lie, death seems like the only choice left. But Farouk is pulling the strings to keep him alive. As David's friends and family work desperately to save him, David must reclaim his past and present to avoid losing his future to the monster who destroyed him.

Notes:

Thanks to mossomness and Shyanne for their fantastic feedback and support as betas. Thanks to rumtehk-uh for his invaluable help with understanding dissociative identity disorder. Glorious cover art by abigailsins!

 


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"When my fist clenches, crack it open
Before I use it and lose my cool
When I smile, tell me some bad news
Before I laugh and act like a fool

And if I swallow anything evil
Put your finger down my throat
And if I shiver, please give me a blanket
Keep me warm, let me wear your coat"

—The Who, "Behind Blue Eyes"

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Chapter 1: Day 1: We have a situation. (Syd)

Chapter Text

When Syd wakes up, she remembers everything.

She doesn't panic, doesn't cry. She looks at her reflection and touches the cool surface of the mirror.

Her mind has always been her own, the essence of her inviolate soul. And now it's not. Now it's the aftermath of a battleground, the war come and gone, all the buildings blown to rubble.

She remembers what Melanie had said, what had seemed so utterly convincing in the moment. That mind readers were too powerful to trust. That she had to rely only on herself, her own thoughts, her own ideas. Syd believed that. She'd always believed that, except—

Beware of ideas that are not your own. For months the warning echoed through the halls of Division 3, for so long that they just became noise, for so long that she stopped listening to them at all.

Melanie wasn't Melanie. Farouk told Syd what he was doing to her even as he blamed David for it. He read her mind and showed her what she wanted to see: that all her fears and doubts were real, that the only way to stop them was to stop David. To stop the monster, the villain he'd become, was going to become. Will become? Always was?

She pointed a gun at him and pulled the trigger. Everything exploded, and then David—

David made her forget. He violated her mind. He did that to her. That's not love. And then he came to her, strange and urgent, and he had sex with her, knowing what he'd done.

He did that to her. Her David, the David that she loved, who always asked permission, who respected her boundaries, who was gentle and sweet and vulnerable and brave. He betrayed her and violated her, and the worst part is she doesn't think he even knows that's what he did. She doesn't think he knows the difference between right and wrong, between real and unreal, between love and violation, not anymore.

She doesn't understand what happened to him. Was Farouk right? Was David always this way and she just didn't see it? Was she blind, did she look at him and see only what she wanted to see? Or did something change him, turn him into this, into just another man who thinks he has the right to do whatever he wants to everyone around him, even the ones he claims to love?

Did she ever know him at all?

Nausea hits her and she bends over the sink and tries to throw up, but there's nothing in her but bile. The dry heaves run their course, then she washes her face and mouth with cold water, her knees trembling.

She sits down on the cold tile, a stabbing pain in her chest as her heart rips open, the wound deep and angry. She cries, though she doesn't want to, because her grief is unbearable.

And then she pulls herself back together like she's always done. She stands and forces her legs to hold her steady. She washes her face again and looks at her reflection and promises herself that she's going to take back every inch of the control that's been taken from her. Her pain is her armor, it's how she survives. She wraps it around her wounded heart until the throbbing grief is dulled, contained.

As she reaches for the door, there's a knock from the other side. It's Clark.

"We have a situation."

§

When they reach Cary's lab, Amahl Farouk is standing there. Syd startles back and has to swallow her scream.

"What's he doing here?" she asks, bewildered by Clark and Cary's calm. She turns on Farouk. The inhibitor crown is gone, and he's healed and dressed in his suit. "Are you controlling them?"

"Not at all, my dear," Farouk says, with his salesman smile. She wants to punch it and shatter every single one of his perfectly even teeth. "I'm merely here to be of service."

Cary gives her an apologetic shrug, then looks to Clark to explain.

Clark sighs. "Division 3 has made an alliance with Amahl Farouk in order to deal with a greater threat."

"And what threat is that?" Syd asks, though she already knows.

There's a thin veneer of pity on Clark's face, but underneath there's determination, relief. "David."

"No," Syd says, shaking her head. "This is just another one of his tricks." She rounds on Farouk. "It's not going to work, not on me."

"The decision came from the top," Clark tells her. "Admiral Fukuyama's mind can't be controlled. It's not a trick. David is a danger to himself and others, and we need your help to stop him." He pauses, and then, with his typical brutal kindness, says, "We know what he did to you."

She goes still.

"I— I saw, when I was reviewing the sensor data from Le Désolé," Cary explains, knotting his fingers together in awkward apology. "He did something to your mind while you were unconscious."

"That's—" Syd begins, but doesn't finish. Can't finish.

"Concerning, yes," Clark says, making his own conclusion. "But it's only one piece of a very disturbing picture. We know the truth about the orb, where it came from, or rather when. We know that Cary makes it decades from now and you send it back."

"Not me," Syd says, because that wasn't her, the future her she saw cozying up with Farouk. But then maybe it is. Who is she now but her own dark future, cozying up with Farouk?

Clark puts on his pity again, but she doesn't believe it. She knows he's glad. She doesn't have to be a mind reader to know that Division 3 has always been scared of David Haller. They tried everything they could to kill him until he became too powerful to kill, and then they worked with him because they needed him to stop Farouk. And now...

"Farouk told us what he learned from you, in the future," Clark explains. "That David turns and once he does... This is our only chance to stop that future. To save the world from what he becomes."

"No," Syd says, shaking her head. "That's not fair. You're condemning him based on what? Farouk slaughtered your men, over and over. He killed Amy. He's a murderer, a liar, a monster."

Clark doesn't answer. Syd holds her head. She feels like she's losing her mind all over again.

"Syd," Cary says, taking a step towards her. "Even if it's just a chance... We're the ones who sent the orb back. We have to believe that we made the right decision, that this is our best shot at saving the lives of billions of people."

"So, what?" Syd challenges. "We're just gonna execute him?"

"Not if we don't have to," Cary says. He reaches for his work bench and picks up a crown similar to the one he'd placed on Farouk's head just hours ago. "I made another one, even stronger, with, uh, Farouk's help. We just need to get it on David's head. Then we can give him the help he needs."

"He'll never let you," Syd says. Not the way he is now.

"If he refuses treatment, then we will have to execute him," Clark says, and it's an honest fact.

Syd turns around and walks away from them, just far enough to get some space. She can't believe this is happening. She needs time to figure this out, but they don't have any time. As soon as he thinks to check, David will read their minds and then—

He's sick. Oh god, he really is sick. What he did to her, the way he's been since he came back, the thing he might become. He's sick and he needs their help.

"Okay," she says, dully.

"With your permission," Farouk oozes, "I will protect your minds so that he will not suspect. You will have to act quickly."

§

"David," Clark says, beckoning him to the center of the room. "Over here."

As David enters the courtroom, her instinct is to warn him, to give him the chance to get better on his own terms. But as he saunters over to Clark, she accepts that she made the right decision. Looking at him now, from a distance, she sees how much he's changed. He isn't himself. He's arrogant and smug and cocky.

"Just want to thank you," Clark continues, playing along. "You saved us all."

"That's what I do," David says, taking the praise like it's his due. "Where's Farouk?"

"They're bringing him in now. Let me just— I have a few questions before we get started. Let me just grab my pad." Clark walks clear as casually as he can.

"Yeah, okay," Syd whispers, giving the signal.

When Cary triggers the cage, she allows herself a moment of satisfaction, seeing David caught, knowing he'll be punished. But then she just hurts again, because once he's scared all she can see is her David. He bounces off the cage wall, whirls in confusion, starts trying to break free.

And then Farouk slithers in like the snake he is.

The moment David sees Farouk, Syd realizes their mistake. David's never going to trust them while Farouk is in the room. David starts pouring everything he has at the cage, desperate to escape and go after his enemy, his parasite, the thing that's tortured him his entire life. The smiling monster she has to work with because David might turn into a monster so big he'll kill the world.

It's not going to work. She has to try anyway.

"David, stop, please," she begs, trying to calm him. "I know that you don't want to believe me, but we want to help you."

David isn't listening. He only has eyes for Farouk. "Let me out! Now!"

"David Haller, your treachery has been discovered," declares a Vermillion. "The inevitability of your future crimes."

"We are informed by Sydney Barrett and the Shadow King of events that will transpire in the days to come," continues another. "The remains of the orb that took you have been analyzed. The probability that they have been created decades from now by the male Loudermilk is 98%."

David turns to Cary, betrayed. Cary shrugs; what could he say?

"This is a mistake," David says, looking around the room, angry, pleading for sense. "Future crimes? Things I might do? Are you—" He cuts himself off, shakes his head like he's trying to clear it. "Wait. What's— what's really going on?" And then, predictably, he focuses back on Farouk again. "This is you," he growls.

Farouk says something in another language. His voice is calm with mock sadness. "Seeing you like this, what you have become. The sweet boy undone by revenge. It fills my heart with such sorrow."

"Liar," David snarls.

As Farouk takes his seat, Syd knows that if they have any hope of pulling this off, it's up to her to find a way past David's anger and reach him. Despite what he did to her, despite her future self's warnings, she doesn't believe he's lost to her, not yet.

"David, I know how hard this was for you. What he did to you. The life that you lived." She stands up and approaches the cage, needing to say this to his face, to let him see how much she means it. "To think that you were sick for all those years, and then to be told that it was a lie, that you have these powers. This monster in your head, everything Melanie said, that you weren't mentally ill, when the truth is—"

"Syd," David pleads, begging her not to say it.

"You're both," she finishes.

The truth hits him like a gut punch. He reels, eyes darting in every direction. And then he suddenly lashes out at her with an accusing finger. "No! Shut up and let me think!" And then, calmer, dazed. "Just let me think." He presses a hand to his head, groans. "Something I do in the future? That hasn't happened yet? That isn't even me?" He laughs darkly. "Don't you see? This is some kind of mass psychosis."

"You're upset," Cary says, gently denying him. "Your mind can't reconcile the person we see with the person you think you are."

"But we can help," Syd insists. "Medicine and therapy."

David stares in wide-eyed devastation. "Back to the psych ward? David the zombie." She thinks for a moment that maybe this will work after all, that maybe the truth is getting through to him. But then he riles. "Well, bullshit! You want me gone so bad? Fine, I'm gone."

"No," Syd pleads.

"You will allow treatment, or we will be forced to terminate," declares a Vermillion, and that makes everything worse.

"You're gonna kill me?" David says, outraged. "No. No." He rounds on Syd, stares her down. "I want to hear you say it. That you're gonna kill me if I don't let them turn me into something different. Something easy. Something clean."

This is it. Her last shot at reaching him, at reaching the David she loves, or used to love, if he was ever there at all. She walks right up to the cage, as close as she can. "David," she begins, and every word is wrenched out of her with agonizing pain. "You drugged me and had sex with me."

She watches the truth sink in, a slow-motion disaster that she started and can't afford to stop. "No, that's not—" And she was right, of course she was right. He didn't know that he'd hurt her, he didn't know what he'd done.

He knows now.

Her David would have apologized. He would have been horrified, disgusted at what he'd done. But the David in front of her just wails like a lost child. "I need you," he whispers, like her pain is nothing, like only his pain matters. Like a boy loves his mommy or a dog loves a bone.

Maybe Farouk was right. Maybe her future self was right all along. Maybe he's always been a monster. He's a monster now.

"I'm a good person," David says, starts chanting the affirmation as he turns and turns, looking around the room trying to find someone who will believe him. "I deserve love. I'm a good person. I deserve love. I deserve love."

No one believes him. There's no one, and he's so, so lost.

And then suddenly he's angry. Focused. Controlled.

"You know what? I'm done," he declares. "You had your chance."

"No," Syd pleads, but it's too late. She failed. She backs away as David powers up again, as the cage strains to hold him.

"Cary," Syd calls.

"The gas." A Vermillion gives the order and the cage starts filling up. David waves it away, but it keeps pouring in, filling up the small space.

"Cary?" Syd asks, as she stands back with him.

"The field should hold," Cary says.

Syd's not so sure, because David's giving this everything he has. But for all his power he still needs to breathe, and as fast as he waves it away, the gas creeps up to fill the cage. And then she can't even see him through the haze.

The cage goes quiet. Syd looks to Cary, to Clark.

"Give it a minute," Clark says, holding up a hand. "It takes a lot to knock him out."

They wait but nothing happens. Did he teleport out when they couldn't see him? Is he waiting for them to drop the walls so he can attack? Clark gives the signal, and Syd waits, holding her breath as the walls drop, as the gas dissipates.

David is lying unconscious on the floor.

"The crown, now!" Clark orders, and Cary rushes in to put it on. David whimpers when it activates, body straining as the neural spines dig into his head, and then he goes limp again.

They have him now, for all the good it will do them.

"Take him," Clark orders.

Several soldiers haul David up and put him into a wheelchair. His head lolls back, and Syd takes a sharp breath in. She remembers David the zombie. She knows why he's afraid of this, after Clockworks, after so many years of misguided treatment that only made his life a misery. She's afraid for him, too. But this is the only way to help him, to stop him from doing things that he would regret if he was still able to regret doing them.

As they wheel David away, a Vermillion speaks. "Amahl Farouk, Shadow King. Your cooperation in this is now complete."

Farouk bows his head in acknowledgement. "Then I am free to go?"

"No," says another Vermillion. "Your services are required for another task. You must remain here until David Haller is neutralized or destroyed. There is a sixty-two percent chance that he will make an additional attempt to escape."

Farouk grins widely. "Then you wish me to be his jailer? It would be my honor, Admiral."

"Sixty-two percent?" Cary mutters. "Seems low after all that."

Syd wonders, but she's more concerned about Farouk. "I'm sorry, no," she insists. "We can't help David if he's involved. You saw what happened. David won't trust us if we're working with him."

"You're not," Clark says, all his conciliatory gestures gone now that he has David where he wants him. "He's working for Division 3. You also happen to be working for Division 3. It's your job to make sure that he doesn't have to do his job. Those were the terms you agreed to. If you have a problem with that, you can leave. We'll deal with David our way."

Syd stares at Clark, and he stares right back at her. "Fine," she says, not liking any of this at all. It's cure or kill, and she doesn't know if there's any hope of curing whatever's wrong with David. But she has to try. She's the only hope he has left, whether he realizes it or not.

"My dear," Farouk says, magnanimous in his victory. "Let us not start our new relationship on bad terms. Please, join me for a coffee." He gestures towards the door. "We are allies now. We must be civilized."

The last thing she wants to do is sit across from the monster that gleefully tortured David his entire life. But the actual last thing she wants to do right now is a tie between going down to David's new cell and waiting for him to wake up, and going back to her room to sit alone and feel absolutely miserable for doing the right thing.

"Fine," she says, and walks out, not looking back to see if Farouk is following.

§

Farouk almost moans as he takes his first sip of coffee. He ordered a café serré, a short shot of espresso so concentrated one sip would keep anyone else awake for days.

Syd ordered a shot too. Whiskey, despite the early hour, because she can't deal with any of this completely sober. She only takes one sip, though, because she can't risk being anything other than completely sober when she's sitting across the table from a monster. She'll get drunk tonight, safe in the privacy of her room.

Not that anywhere is safe anymore. Not that her room was safe last night. Maybe if she'd been sober when David came to her, she would have had the sense to say no.

"You cannot blame yourself," Farouk tells her.

"I'm sorry?" Syd says, glaring at him.

"I apologize," Farouk says, holding up a hand. "It’s impossible not to hear such loud thoughts."

"Well, try," she says, and resists the urge to throw back the whole shot of whiskey.

"It’s the truth," Farouk says.

He's still wearing those sunglasses, so she can't see his eyes, but she knows it wouldn't make any difference to see them. There is nothing about him that she will ever trust.

Farouk puts his hand over his heart. "You wound me, my dear. I’m only trying to do what is best for the world, as I always have."

Syd scoffs. "I'm sorry, when have you done anything for anyone but yourself?"

"I was a great king," Farouk declares. "My people thrived under my protection."

"I read Division 3's file on you," Syd says, unmoved. "You were a criminal before David's father stopped you. Your people were criminals. You hurt innocent people then the same way you hurt them now. You might have fooled me once, but—"

"Twice," Farouk smirks, and takes another tiny sip.

Syd's nostrils flare as she breathes in sharply. "I never believed your fantasy Clockworks was real."

"No," Farouk says. "But you believed your David was."

Nausea roils through her.

"That is when he changed, is it not? When you took me out of him with a kiss?" He chuckles. "I was the gift, remember? Le don. You should never have tried to take him away from me."

"Shut up," she whispers, but god, god, what if it's true? The timing, it makes sense, what if—

"What he did to you last night. It was truly sickening to see him hurt you so. He tried to trick you into loving him. But that is his nature, you understand? He is empty, a shell full of power. There is nothing to save."

"Shut up," she says again, louder this time. "I know what you're doing and it's not going to work."

"Then you still love him? Your David? You will let him back into your head, your heart, your body, after he has violated them?"

"He needs help," Syd says, wrapping her pain tighter and tighter around her heart.

"Perhaps," Farouk says. "Perhaps it is my help that he needs. I have guarded him all his life, saved him from himself. A little boy with too much power. Can you imagine the devastation? One tantrum and he wishes away his mother, his father, his country. I have always done what is best for the world."

Syd says nothing. She can't breathe.

Farouk takes another sip. "I would like to thank you, my dear. Not only for your noble efforts today, but for all you have already done for me in the future. Your assistance has been invaluable."

Everything hurts. Her soul hurts. She forces herself to breathe. "What do you want from us?"

"Right now? I only want to enjoy being back in my body, and to finish this delicious cup of coffee."

She can't take anymore. She stands up.

"Until next time," Farouk says, raising his cup to her as she turns and walks away.

Chapter 2: Day 1: To everything being completely fucked. (David, Cary, Syd)

Chapter Text

David’s head hurts. It really, really hurts, like someone’s stabbed needles into his skull. And if that wasn’t enough, he feels wrong, somehow, wrong all over and strange. There’s a bitter, familiar taste in his mouth that makes him think of swimming pools.

Swimming pools.

Division 3.

His eyes shoot open and he instantly regrets it. The room isn’t even very bright, but there’s long, cold-blue lines of light at the corners of the walls that stab right into his retinas. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to turn away, but there’s something holding his head still. He’s on a bed, and there’s something on his wrists, his ankles.

Restraints.

Shit.

Everything comes back to him at once. The trial — no, the ambush. Farouk gloating, everyone on his side, and then Syd—

No. No. He can’t think about that right now. He has to get out of here. They’re going to kill him if he doesn’t get out of here. It should be easy to make the restraints open, but they don’t obey him. He tries to teleport away, but he doesn’t budge from the bed.

There’s something on his head. Shit.

“It’s not going to work.”

David looks and sees himself leaning against the wall. He’s wearing a green shirt and looking dismayed.

“I’ve got this,” says another him, pacing on the other side of room. That him is wearing yellow.

“I don’t think you do,” says Green.

“Gimme time,” Yellow says. “I just need to bust this stupid thing and get it off our head. That’s obviously what that shit beetle did.”

“Obviously,” says Green, dryly. Then he looks at David. “Finally back with us?”

David tries to nod, but the motion sends a stabbing pain through his head. He breathes through it until it ebbs, but there’s a low, deep throbbing left behind. God, his head hurts.

From across the room, Yellow curses.

“Don’t do that again,” says Green, rubbing his own head.

“Okay,” David says, keeping his head very still.

He remembers the other hims from before, but he still doesn’t understand what they are. There’s always been voices in his head, usually lots of voices, but things have been mostly quiet since he got Farouk out of his head and learned how to control his powers. For all of two whole weeks, a few days more. That’s all the true freedom he’s ever known, and now—

Calm. He has to stay calm.

He pretty sure they’re the source of the voices that he’s been talking to for those two weeks. It confused him, at first, but they've been helping him and he needs all the help he can get. He’s used to listening to other people talking in his head and he’s used to seeing things that aren’t there. He’s pretty sure that these other hims aren’t actually there, but neither was Lenny when she showed up in Amy’s basement. Sometimes if he keeps talking to things that aren’t real, they end up being real after all, and sometimes it’s the other way around. It’s hard for him to judge, so he usually just rolls with whatever’s happening.

He is not going to roll with lying here, gift-wrapped by Division 3 while Farouk waits for the right moment to kill him. He has to get out of here.

“We already tried,” says Green.

Yellow glowers. “I tried, you did nothing except lecture me.”

“I don’t tell you how to do your thing, you don’t tell me how to do mine.”

“Your thing is telling me what to do,” Yellow shoots back.

“And your thing is keeping us safe, which you have spectacularly failed to do.”

“Hey, don’t take this out on me. He’s the one who didn’t stick to the plan.” Yellow smirks. “He just had to stick his wick in that blonde—“

“Hey!” David calls, angrily. “Shut up!”

“What?” Kerry appears from somewhere past his feet.

“What?” David asks. She must have been sitting by the door this whole time.

“I wasn’t saying anything.”

“Right,” David says.

Kerry frowns at him. “Then who did you just yell at?”

She’s a very straightforward person, Kerry. He’s always liked that about her. So he’s straightforward back. “Myself?”

Kerry considers this, then accepts it. “Good. I wanna yell at you, too. But Cary says you’re sick so I can’t.”

“I’m not—“ David starts to say what he’s desperately wanted to believe for the past month, ever since Melanie told it to him with such absolute confidence. But the last word dies in his throat.

This— This whole situation he’s in. It’s not good.

“You are,” says Green, standing next to Kerry and looking disappointed in him. Green sighs and rubs his face in a familiar gesture David’s made himself a million times. “Maybe this is for the best. Running away wasn’t the answer.”

“You told me to leave,” David mutters.

“What?” Kerry says again. She looks around the room, baffled.

“Myself,” David explains. “I told myself to leave. And now I’m telling myself to stay, which really doesn’t make any sense because if I don’t get out of here they’re going to kill me!”

By the end of it he’s worked himself up and he can feel his panic kicking in. God, he hates this, he hates this, he has to get out of here before it’s too late. He’s breathing too fast and pulling at the restraints but with this thing on his head he’s powerless, just a man, just a patient strapped to his bed the way he’s been strapped to beds in hospital after hospital after hospital after—

He moves his head and it hurts: agonizing, searing pain but he has to get it off, he has to get it off, and he moves his head again, trying to push the crown against the bed and wrench himself free. The pain doesn’t matter, he’s used to pain, his whole life is pain, and he’s not going to have any more life if he doesn’t get it off now now now now now

“David, stop!” Kerry shouts, grabbing his head. Her eyes are wide with fear. Through the haze of agony, he thinks that he’s never seen her afraid about anything before.

“If you force the crown off, it’ll kill you,” Kerry says. She shows him that her hands are smeared with his blood. “Cary said it’s hooked into your brain. So don’t, okay?”

“I have to,” he says, but even that small attempt took everything out of him. His whole body is reeling.

“Don’t be an idiot,” says Yellow, holding his own head and grimacing.

“This isn’t the answer,” Green says, doing the same.

It seems whatever hurts David hurts the other hims, which is satisfying in a twisted way. If he has to suffer, at least he's not suffering alone. Not that the other hims are anything but persistent hallucinations. Friendly hallucinations, but they can't really help him because they're not real. They can't get him out of this. They might even be a symptom of whatever's wrong with him. Why he's sick.

He's sick.

"Finally," sighs Green. Yellow scowls at him.

Kerry washes her hands in the sink, then comes back with handful of damp paper towels and starts wiping away the blood.

"Please," he begs her. If she cares about him at all anymore — and she must or she wouldn't be down here taking care of him — then she has to understand. "Please, you have to help me. Get this thing off my head, please, please. I don't want to die."

"The whole point of this is so you don't die, stupid," Kerry says, giving him a rough swipe with the towel. "That's why we're helping you. Me and Cary and Syd. We're doing this so you don't die, so stop being an asshole."

David can't— "Syd?" he asks, weakly.

"Yeah," Kerry says, gruffly. "I don't understand what you did to her but it sucks. You're not supposed to hurt the people you love, and if you do you're supposed to feel bad about it. I kicked Cary in the spleen but then I said I was sorry, even though it wasn't my fault."

She wipes the drying blood from the side of his neck. The pillow is damp under his head but he doesn't think they'll remove the head restraint to let him get clean. It's probably fitting to make him lie in his own blood.

"You're right," he says, bleakly. He knows he's crashing now that the panic is over, but he can't stop himself. It doesn't just suck, what he did to her. It was monstrous. He's a monster, just like—

He warned her. When Syd wanted to see his memories, he warned her that she wouldn't love him anymore once she knew what he was, once she'd seen all the bad things he's done and all the ways he's ruined everything. But she kept staying and kept seeing something good in him, and he wanted so badly to believe that she was right.

But she wasn't. She wasn't.

Tears stream out of his eyes, streak down the sides of his face and into the stained pillow. Kerry pulls back, surprised. When she disappears from view, he thinks she's as disgusted with him as he is with himself. But she comes back with a clean towel and wipes his tears away as they fall, as they keep falling.

"Syd says you have to get better or you'll die," Kerry tells him. "So do it."

§

"Is there any change in his condition?" Clark asks.

Cary looks up from his monitor, startled out of his concentration. "Oh. I didn't hear you come in. And, uh, no, there's no change. Either of them."

Cary's lab has been turned into an impromptu infirmary, specially tailored for his two patients: his oldest and dearest friends, Oliver and Melanie Bird. Oliver he found himself, barely alive after David psychically tortured him. Melanie was recovered later, when Division 3 was sweeping through the labyrinth and found Farouk's empty coffin. Both of them are unconscious and frankly lucky to be breathing. Melanie especially; she's only human, and her body couldn't take the strain of Farouk's brief possession.

Technically, Cary has three patients. But he can't actually be in two places at once, so as long as David is a prisoner as well as a patient, he has to trust Kerry to look after him. He'll visit when he can, but after David's courtroom histrionics, he has to admit that he's a little afraid of what he's going to find.

Clark is standing over Oliver, looking thoughtful but otherwise unreadable. Clark is a difficult man for Cary to understand. They spent so long on opposing sides of a bloody war, and then just like that they were allies, their shared goals aligning them: finding David, finding Oliver and Farouk and his body.

He's not sure if they're allies anymore, now that everyone's been found.

"Oliver's strong," Cary assures him. "I do believe he'll recover. But the psychic trauma he endured was great."

"David's very powerful," Clark says, but it’s not a compliment.

"He thought he was torturing Farouk," Cary explains, as he's explained before. "He was tricked. It was a mistake."

"David makes a lot of mistakes."

Cary picks up a scanner, not because he needs to use it but because he needs something to look at that isn't Clark. "He does. But that doesn't make it right to condemn him for mistakes he might make in a future that might not happen."

"You gave your testimony," Clark reminds him. "You're going to make that orb one day because of what he does. Are you willing to risk the lives of billions of people?"

"No, no, of course not," Cary says, looking up. "It's just— I'm not comfortable with this."

"You don't have to be, because it's not up to you. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"David's only a threat because of his abilities. If he was just a mentally ill man, Division 3 would be happy to let him go. He would be free to do anything he wants."

"What you're asking is impossible," Cary says, straightening his spine. "And not only impossible, but immoral."

"I just want to keep people safe," Clark says, calmly.

"You want a cure for mutations. You want to genetically rewrite us out of existence. I'm sure all the world governments paying your salary would prefer that to having to hunt us down and execute us one by one."

Clark quirks a smile. "Sometimes I forget how long your memory is."

"Maybe it's just that I'm the only one left who remembers," Cary cuts back. "Everyone else is unconscious or dead, mostly because Division 3 killed them."

Clark holds up his hands in surrender. "Forget I asked."

"I won't," Cary mutters, but lets it go. He has more important thing to focus on, like helping his friends. He goes to Melanie and checks her vitals, compares them to the last check. She's stable, at least, but he can't guess beyond that. She could wake up in an hour or she could never wake up at all. There's no way for him to know what kind of damage Farouk did to her mind.

"He was devastated, you know," Cary says, still feeling like this whole situation is unjust. "David. When he realized what Farouk made him do. I don't believe that he's some kind of unfeeling monster."

"And how long have you known David? All of you? Four, five weeks?"

Cary scowls.

"You think I don't want him to get better?" Clark says, not letting this go. "I like David, I do. But it doesn't matter if he feels bad. He's unstable and he's always been unstable. We don't know what happened in that future that made him end the world. Maybe it was all a big accident. If there's a nuclear reactor that's gonna blow, you don't forgive the reactor. You take it out of commission."

"He's a human being, not a nuclear reactor."

"He's not a human being, he's a mutant."

They stare at each other.

"Get out of my lab," Cary says, quietly livid.

"I'll go," Clark agrees. "But I'll be back. You think this is your lab? Everything here is the property of Division 3. And as long as you're working for us, so are you." He starts towards the door, then turns back. "Here's the thing. Every single day, I look in the mirror and I see what David did to me, what your people did to me. But I put it all aside because what we're doing here is important. We're protecting the world."

"By allying with sadistic monsters like Farouk?" Cary retorts. "Like Walter?"

"That was always the problem with you Summerlanders," Clark says, shaking his head. "You think society is about right and wrong, or who's on whose side. Society isn't about sides. It's about power and who has the most of it. Either you deal with David or we will, and when that's done we'll deal with Farouk."

Clark limps out of the lab, his cane tapping aggressively loudly. But he closes the door quietly behind him.

§

It's a bad idea, but Syd goes back to her room and starts drinking and doesn't stop. Really, getting drunk is the least bad idea in an entire forest of bad ideas.

She gets very, very drunk.

"A toast," she says, raising her glass to no one. "To everything being completely fucked."

She knocks back the shot. Wow, she is super drunk right now. This is just the level of drunk she has to be to do something stupid, which is why she takes what's left of the bottle and stumbles her way out into the hall.

"Shit," she slurs, as the hallway lists alarmingly to the left. She leans against the wall until the building rights itself again.

What was she going to do again? She's not going to see David. David the empty shell. David the illusion. There's nothing there to see, right? If she believes the King of Lies, lying to her face, pouring poison into her ear.

Amahl Farouk is the worst. The worst. Syd has known some real pieces of shit, but he is the biggest, stinkiest shit of all goddamn time. He is the living embodiment of diarrhea, including the way he can't ever stop running his goddamn shitty mouth.

"Fuck you!" she shouts at him, because she knows he's listening. She knows he's loving this, watching her suffer because he stomped all over her broken heart. Fuck him. Fuck him!

Ugh, where was she going? Oh right, not to see David.

Because here's the thing. Here's the sticking point. The Shadow King is an absolute sadistic lying bastard, but his biggest weapon is the truth. Not the whole truth, just bits of it. Enough to bait his victims with a fuzzy rabbit on a hook. And then the hook is in deep and it's dragging you down a hole and through an underground labyrinth until nothing makes sense except the story he's telling you with someone else's face.

Farouk was in David's head for thirty years, for his whole entire life. What she doesn't understand is how there can be anything left of him after that. How can there be a David at all? How could he survive it?

Syd's life was never great. She's never belonged anywhere because she was different, because her mom was different. She's hurt people: emotionally, physically, sexually. She got shoved into a mental hospital because some asshole judge decided she was a danger to herself and others. David thinks she saved him, but that's never been her truth.

The thing she loved about him was the same thing that drove her crazy: his blind, stupid optimism that everything would be okay. That there was good in the world and that they deserved to have some of it.

The world is shit. It's a shitty, shitty world, a world full of sadistic monsters that always get their way. A world where victims are just shoved out of sight because that's easier for everyone. That's what happened to her. She got shoved out of sight, but David saw her. David loved her. He would have done anything for her, no questions asked, like some gallant fucking knight.

But he wouldn't save the world for her. He chose revenge over her. That's why she's not going to see him. If he'd just saved the goddamn world—

She takes another sip and stumbles down the hall.

Thirty years. She can't stand being on the same continent as Farouk for more than thirty seconds. She's not surprised that David's broken, that he's sick, that he's a confused mess most of the time. She's surprised that he survived. She's surprised that he's sweet and gentle and respectful and empathetic and capable of making someone feel as loved as he made her feel.

Farouk is good, but he's not that good. That snake wouldn't know real love if it clubbed him across the face. Though she would have no objections to testing that theory with an actual club.

There's a big door in the wall, and buttons. She presses one. It's the elevator and it starts going down and takes her with it.

She's not going to see David because he's the fuzzy bunny wiggling on the hook. Who wouldn't want to save a fuzzy bunny? But she knows. She knows how this works. She's not taking the bait this time. She's not rushing over to David so she can drive herself crazy trying to figure out if David is even David anymore, or if David was ever David at all.

No. She's going to talk to Amy. Lenny. Lemmy. Lamy. She snort-laughs as she staggers up to the cell door.

"Laaaamy," Syd calls, and laughs again, because it's just that fucking hilarious. Or because she's toxically drunk. Probably that.

She fumbles open the door and staggers through, nearly getting pulled along with it as it swings around. "Whoops," she says, careful not to drop the bottle. It's very important that she not drop the bottle.

"Whiskey, nice," Lenny says. She's sitting on the bed, still wrapped in chains. "Gonna share?"

"You know," Syd says, pointing at her. "I don't think Division 3 follows the Geneva Conventions."

"Sister, you read my mind. This place is basically evil. You here to bust me out before they make me fry?"

"Nope," Syd says, making sure to pronounce the whole word. "But you can have a drink." She staggers until she reaches the bed, then leans over Lenny and puts the bottle to her mouth. Lenny's eyes go wide but she takes the mouthful Syd pours. Syd takes the bottle back and has another sip.

"You really know how to show a girl a good time," Lenny declares.

"I'll show you a good time," Syd leers, wagging the bottle like a fuzzy bunny. "But first I gotta talk to Amy."

"Ah. See, that's gonna be a problem, because Amy's not home anymore."

Syd snorts. "Please. Don't give me that. I know how this works. That shithead's not gonna throw away something he can use to torture us. He uses every. Part. Of. The. Cow." She punctuates each word by poking Lenny with her finger.

"Gimme another drink first," Lenny says, resigned.

Syd obliges.

This time Lenny sputters and coughs. "I said a drink, not a waterboarding. Shit, you are a sloppy drunk, girl."

"Amy," Syd demands.

"It doesn't work like that," Lenny protests. "I can't just dial her up. She, like, comes to me in dreams and shit."

"Amy," Syd calls. "If you don't come out, Farouk's gonna kill David."

Lenny startles. "Okay, that worked."

Syd looks around, but she doesn't see anything. "Where is she?"

"She's in my head, not yours." Lenny rolls her eyes. "She wants to know what she can do to help."

"I wanna know how you did it," Syd says. "How did you keep David David?"

Lenny looks confused, and based on the look she gives to thin air, so does Amy.

"Farouk said he's empty. An illusion. That he's not even— he's not even capable of love." Syd starts choking up, so she takes another sip. She can't deal with this even a hundred miles from sober.

"Amy says that's bullshit," Lenny says, and means it. "And so do I."

"How would you know?" Syd retorts. "You're not even a real person."

"Hey, whatever I am, I was in his head while you two were mooning over each other all over Summerland. I know for a fact that he was stupid in love with you. It made Farouk want to throw up."

"How much?" Syd demands.

Lenny's eyes dart back and forth. "Which how much?"

"Both."

"Like, carve out his own heart and eat it much. For both."

It's possibly the least romantic image she could imagine, but for the first time in days the dread in Syd's gut actually lessens. Down from a hundred percent to ninety percent, but she'll take it.

"Okay," she says, breathing for what feels like the first time. "Okay. So ask Amy how she did it. How did she keep him going?"

"Ask her yourself," Lenny grumbles, then listens to nothing. "Amy says she didn't."

"She— You must have," Syd insists. "He was tortured his entire life. Thirty years. Who survives that?"

Lenny frowns. Whatever she hears must not be happy. "Yeah, he was. And he was a juvie and a junkie and he tried to kill himself. That ain't surviving."

"So, what?" Syd realizes belatedly that it would have been more helpful to have this conversation sober. But if she was sober she couldn't have had it at all. "He gave up?"

"Amy says she did everything she could for him. But yeah. He gave up." Lenny mimes hanging herself. "Game over."

"Shit." That wasn't what she was hoping to hear.

"He was in bad shape when they dumped him at Clockworks." Lenny gives an exasperated look at thin air. "Don't make it pretty. That place wasn't a hospital, it was a landfill. Anyway, yeah, he was done. The turkey popped. He was still walking around and breathing but that was about it. And then, well."

"And then me." She's not sure how that makes her feel. She's not sure what she should feel. She saw some of his memories, she saw the kind of person he used to be. She knew about his suicide attempt. But it was so hard to see any of that in the David she loved. He was fragile, she saw that, she saw his pain. But he didn't let it eat him whole.

Maybe she really did see what she wanted to see. Maybe Farouk was telling the truth and her David was an invention. It was just that David made it up himself and Farouk had nothing to do with it. David wanted to be a good person for her, he wanted to be everything he'd lost to his pain. So he made himself sweet and gentle and clung to that optimism as hard as he could, because it was the only thing keeping him from giving up all over again.

That doesn’t mean it wasn’t real. She'd talked to Amy a lot over the year David was missing. She heard all her stories about him. When he was a boy, he really was all those things. And then Farouk took them away, took and took until David was empty. And then David tried to kill himself.

"Jesus," Syd says, the bottle falling from her hand. It doesn't break, but rolls across the floor, sloshing until it clacks against the wall and stops. “That’s the rabbit.”

“Huh?”

She’d almost taken the bait. She had her eyes wide open and she still reached for that rabbit, determined to free it. And if she had? Oh god, if she had. There would have been nothing left between David and Farouk, nothing to stop the real monster from eating David whole all over again.

“Thank you,” she says, numbly. She staggers to her feet, picks up the bottle and puts it in Lenny’s cuffed hands. “Both of you. Thank you.”

Syd has to get some sleep and sober up. She has to save love if she’s going to save the world.

Chapter 3: Day 1: Even his own hallucination thinks he's sick. (David)

Chapter Text

There's not much David can do while he's strapped to a bed with needles in his brain. He can barely move and can't use his powers, and frankly even thinking is hard when his head is throbbing like a drum. But thinking is what he has to do.

He's supposed to get better, but he doesn't know what that means. He doesn't even know what it means that he's sick. They all said he was, Syd and Cary and Kerry and Clark and the Admiral, and even his own hallucination thinks he's sick. So he must be. He must be, because that's the thing about being sick. The sickness tells you you're healthy, that nothing's wrong, that everything is fine just the way it is. But everything isn't fine. It's not even in the same galaxy as fine.

Everything's gone wrong but he doesn't understand how it happened, how it all slipped through his fingers like water. For one blissful moment, he was happy, he was free, he was in love. And then he had a mission, a purpose, for the first time in his life. He had to stop Farouk, stop the bad guy. People were relying on him to protect them. He was their hero. But he had to help Farouk, too, apparently so Farouk could kill him before he destroyed the world. Because he's the villain.

He doesn't understand. None of it makes sense, but it makes sense to everyone else. Enough that they're ready to kill him if he doesn't get better, whatever getting better even means.

Something is wrong with him, though. He knows that something is wrong with him because he hurt Syd. He would never hurt her, not like— Not like—

But he did. Oh god, he did. He drugged her — altered her mind so she wouldn't stop loving him — and then he had sex with her. That is an actual thing he did to the woman he loves, and he didn't even know it was wrong until it was too late. That's what's sick.

Maybe they shouldn't be bothering to try to help him. Maybe there's no point, if this is what he is now. They should just execute him and get it over with instead of trying to save what can't be saved. If he doesn't even know when he's hurting people, how can he stop himself from doing it again?

"Kerry?" David calls, and she comes over from her guard post by the door. He's not sure what she's supposed to do to protect him. If Farouk shows up there's nothing anyone can do to stop him. But he's glad to have her company.

She sits down in the chair next to the bed. "Hey. Do you need some more water? Or, you know, the other thing?"

David flushes with fresh humiliation. Apparently he can't even be trusted with his own hands so he can piss. "No," he says, wishing he could turn his face away. But he's lost the right to any human kindness. He's not a person anymore, just a patient, a prisoner justly condemned. Or justly enough, anyway.

"Oh, good," Kerry says, visibly relieved. "That was really gross."

He laughs, dry and bleak and mostly at himself. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Kerry shrugs. "Cary keeps telling me I need to get used to body stuff. Maybe it's good to practice on someone else."

David gives a soft assent, but that's all.

"So what do you want?" Kerry asks.

It's such an enormous question that David can't even begin to answer it. But of course that's not how she meant it. "Why are you here? Helping me?"

"Because Cary told me to."

David prays for strength. Kerry's literalness can be a bit much for him sometimes. "You don't have to."

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No," David says. "But... If you're not comfortable. Being around me. Helping me. You don't have to."

"I'm not afraid of you," Kerry says, forcefully.

"I didn't—"

"You can't even stand up. Even Cary could beat you right now."

"That's n—"

"I'm the one keeping you safe from yourself. If I left you'd probably hurt yourself again."

"Well, maybe, but—"

"And we're the only friends you have left. If we leave, what's gonna happen to you?"

David waits a beat before he answers, in case she has more to say. But she's done. "Maybe that's why you should leave."

Kerry stares at him. "Are you kidding? You're giving up, just like that?"

"I'm n—" He is. Or he should. "I don't know. Apparently I end the world, so..."

"Then don't end it."

It's a breathtaking statement, perfect in its simplicity. But his life has never been simple. "What if I can't stop myself?" he asks her. "What if it's an accident, or someone makes me?"

"No one makes me do anything," Kerry boasts.

"Cary makes you do body stuff."

She huffs and crosses her arms. "That's different. And anyway I have to do body stuff because Cary's the one who goes inside me. Maybe he's the one who should stop doing body stuff because that's my thing now. I'm a body stuff expert."

David doesn't want to smile. He really doesn't. But he can't help himself. Kerry smiles back, and maybe it's just a moment, maybe it's meaningless when everything else about his situation is just as dire as before. But it makes him feel like he's a person again.

And of course, that's when the door opens and Clark comes in with a needle.

Kerry stands up and gets between them. "What's that for?" she challenges.

"Cary's busy, so I thought I'd check on our patient myself." Clark leans past Kerry. "I hear you've been a busy boy, talking to yourself, hurting yourself. Trying to get free."

"It's under control," Kerry says, not budging. "He's better now."

Clark smiles, but it's not pleasant. "I'm sorry, better? What was it you just said? If you left he'd probably hurt himself again?" He looks down at David. "And what was it you just said? 'Well, maybe?'" He shakes his head. "I told you, we're always listening."

Just the sight of the needle has already sent David's heart racing. "Please," he begs. "I don't need— The drugs, they don't help, please."

Kerry stares Clark down, but he stares her down right back. She looks away and he walks around her, sits down in the chair.

"I'm sorry," Clark says, like he means it. Maybe he does, but David begs him to stop and Clark doesn't stop. He cleans a spot on David's arm with a medical wipe.

The prick of the needle is intrusive and agonizingly familiar. The medication pushes into his veins, and David despairs.

"I'm sorry," Clark says again. He pulls out the needle and covers the tiny wound with a band-aid. "I can't have you interfering with this." He taps the crown once, just enough to make David wince. "I'm doing you a favor. This is the only thing keeping you alive."

Kerry curls her hands into fists. "We're the ones taking care of David, not you."

"This is an executive decision," Clark tells her. "If David can't control himself, the medication will."

"How's he supposed to get better if he's drugged all the time?"

Clark heads for the door. "Medication is part of his treatment. I checked his files, I'm sure he'll tolerate the dose just fine."

"I'm telling Cary!"

"Good, he can manage things from here." Clark gives her a meaningful look, then he's gone.

Calm. David has to stay calm.

Fuck, he's not calm, he's not calm at all. He starts panicking again because he's trapped in a literal nightmare and he can't wake up, and maybe brain damage is the only way out. He braces himself against the pain as he tries to push the crown off again, but Kerry holds his head still and he's helpless, he can't even kill himself, he can't— he can't—

The drug hits his system quickly, the woozy numbness as agonizingly familiar as the needle.

"I'm sorry," Kerry says, and she's crying over him. He's never seen her cry over anything except Cary.

"It's— It's okay," David slurs. The panic is pulling far away from him, along with everything else. He hates the way panic makes him feel but at least it's his. He'd forgotten how the medication used to smother him, how much it steals.

"I'm gonna talk to Cary." She stands up and wipes her eyes. "You can't hurt yourself while I'm gone. If you do I'll be mad. Okay?"

"Okay," David says.

And then he's alone. But he's not alone, because his hallucinations are back.

"Happy now?" Yellow sneers, glaring furiously at Green. "Still think running away isn't the answer?"

Green's the one pacing now. "I don't know. I don't know, okay? This is bad."

"It wasn't bad before?" Yellow says, arms wide as if displaying the entirety of how thoroughly awful the situation is.

"Yes, it was," Green admits. "Are you going to blame me or are you going to help?”

“I never stopped helping. I told you, I’m gonna bust that stupid crown until it blows off our head.”

“That sounds safe,” Green grumbles. He sits down in the chair. “David. Listen to me. We’re not hallucinations.”

David blinks. “That’s what I’d expect a hallucination to say,” he slurs. That feels like it should make him laugh but it doesn’t.

“I told you we should’ve told him sooner,” Yellow says.

“Yes, you’re just full of good ideas,” Green mutters. “I didn’t want to scare him. He was dealing with enough already.”

“And now’s a vacation,” Yellow mutters back.

Green glares and clenches his jaw. Then he visibly calms himself and turns back to David. “We’re part of you. A stress response. We protect you, or at least we try.”

“Like my rational mind,” David remembers. “He was nice.”

“He was temporary,” Yellow says. “We’re not.”

“I don’t understand.” David was having trouble thinking before, but now it’s like pushing through wet cement. “You’re new.”

“Farouk made you forget,” Green explains. “He couldn’t get rid of us because we’re part of you, but he could keep you from recognizing us. He drowned us out with noise. Now our mind is our own.”

Yellow stands over him from the other side. “He couldn’t do shit because you didn't have to listen to his moralizing advice anymore.” Yellow puts a proud hand to his chest. “I’m all about action. If you get scared, I’m the one who saves us. That interrogation room, that fake Clockworks, those stupid memory walks? I saved us every time.” Yellow frowns. “I almost got us out of that courtroom, too.”

“Almost.”

“No,” David says, refusing the whole thing. “No, that’s— This is a trick, another one of his tricks.”

Green sighs. “I knew you’d say that. David, we’ve been part of you for almost your whole life. That’s why it’s important that you listen to us. We know what’s best for you.”

“How can you know what's best for me if you don't even agree with each other?”

“He’s got a point,” Yellow says.

“Okay, I know what’s best for you,” Green says. “If you’d been able to hear me you wouldn’t have been expelled from college. You wouldn’t have had a drug dealer for a best friend. You wouldn’t have ended up like this if you’d just listened to me and told everyone the truth before it all spiraled completely out of control!”

“Wow, frustrated much?” Yellow says, and sniggers.

David takes a moment. “You said you were permanent?” This really is a nightmare. “I’m insane,” he says, with what he feels is remarkable equanimity. This is what’s wrong with him. Maybe it’s a good thing Clark drugged him.

Yellow snorts. “Rude.”

"Look," says Green. "We all want the same thing, to get out of here. I thought your friends would be able to help, but it's not looking great. So it's up to us now. We have to get you better right here, right now."

"That— that doesn't even make sense," David says.

"I know what your delusion is," Green says. "I told you before. Were you listening at all?"

David tries to remember the details, but the past two days have been... stressful. "Uh, something about not being a good person? God... doesn't love me?"

"I'm not listening to this." Yellow rolls his eyes and walks away.

"Do you have any idea what got you into this mess?" Green asks.

"Uh, no?"

Green rubs his face. "You weren't like this before, you know. This wide-eyed puppy act. You were a goddamn mess but you didn't delude yourself with fairy tales and stories about heroes and villains. You faced reality. You didn't want things we can't have."

"He was miserable," Yellow says, coming back again. "I was glad when Farouk shut us up because you made him feel worse about everything. We've been through enough bullshit without you telling him he deserved it."

"I didn't say he deserved it," Green says. "I said there's no point in hoping for things we're never going to get. We were never good and we sure as hell don't deserve love. We know what we are."

Yellow was cranky before, but now he's mad. "If you say things like that, you know what's gonna happen."

"We tried to stop him! Besides, that wasn't my fault, he couldn't even hear me."

"You think that mattered? All those years with you telling him what a useless piece of shit he was. Every time we did something wrong, you had to lecture him about it and rub salt in the wound. How did that work out for us, huh? How's that for protection?"

"And you telling him he's a god who can do anything he wants? Telling him to make Syd forget? ‘You have to say it, David,’” Green mocks, imitating Yellow’s words in the desert. “How did that work out for us?"

Silence. Blessed silence. If David's head wasn't already screaming they would be giving him a headache. "I don't think this is helping," he says.

"I'll tell you what your problem is," Yellow says, barrelling on. "You're afraid. You've always been afraid. You don't want us to have anything good because you're afraid of losing it. The more we love, the more it hurts, right? That's why you don't want us to have Syd."

"What, you're defending her now? 'The blonde thing who pretends to love us'?"

"She tried to kill us, she can rot in hell," Yellow says. "But the last thing he needs is to be realistic. You're just a— a moralizing pessimist."

"You're a delusional narcissist with a god complex.”

"Oh, everyone's deluded but you?"

"Maybe I'm afraid for a reason," Green says, standing up now. "What do you think happened these past two weeks? We finally had something good and Farouk took everything away, piece by piece. That's what he'll always do, and if it's not him, there'll be some other monster out there waiting for a victim like us. So yeah, I want David to stop hoping because maybe that way the monsters won't have anything to torture us with!"

David stares at the ceiling. Of course his "protective other selves" are just as traumatized as he is. Of course they are. "Maybe you two should go... wherever it is you go when I don't need protecting."

"That’s what you want, huh?" Green says, angrily. "Fine. We’re gone."

David stares at him. And then he really is alone.

§

Kerry runs as fast as she can, sprinting up the stairs because she's faster than the elevator, then down the hall to the lab.

"Cary," she calls, breathless. "Clark drugged David and he's really upset. We have to— uh— What's that thing doing here?"

There's a Vermillion in the lab, sitting on the third bed, the one Cary set aside for David to use once he's deemed safe enough to not be a prisoner anymore. Cary is standing in front of it, and he turns to greet her.

"Kerry, you'll never believe this," Cary says, waving her over like an excited puppy.

Kerry approaches the Vermillion warily. She's never known what to make of the androids. They've always kinda creeped her out, and even though the thing with the eggs and the black creatures was a trick, it was really satisfying to kick the crap out of them. But the main reason she hates them now is because they're spies.

"Get the hell out," she tells it. She doesn't want it listening in when she's talking about David. Division 3's not giving him a chance to get better and it's not right.

"Kerry, don’t be rude,” Cary chides. “Well, go on, say something!”

The Vermillion stares at her and makes weird electrical noises. And then it says, “It’s good to see you, too,” with a familiar voice.

“Ptonomy?” Kerry asks, cautiously.

“Ptonomy!” Cary cries, and hugs her in celebration. “He’s alive! Well, sort of. His mind has been preserved in Admiral Fukuyama’s mainframe. Astonishing!”

Ptonomy's Vermillion is as blank-faced as the rest of them. "Weird," Kerry says, staring into its — his? — eyes. She snaps her fingers in front of its face. The Vermillion doesn't blink. No autonomic reflexes.

"I've reached an arrangement with Admiral Fukuyama," Ptonomy explains. "He's given me access to this Vermillion."

"And what are you doing in return?" Cary asks.

Ptonomy's Vermillion turns to stare at Cary. "I'm still on our side. Just because my body's dead, that doesn't mean I'm not a mutant."

"I apologize," Cary says.

"Why wouldn't Ptonomy be on our side?" Kerry asks. "What's going on?"

"Nothing yet," Cary says. "But the winds are shifting. I believe whatever happens to David will determine a great deal for all of us."

"Something's happening," Ptonomy says. His Vermillion pushes off the bed and marches over to a monitor. It stares at the monitor and then a video feed appears. It's David's cell.

“No. No, that’s— This is a trick, another one of his tricks,” David says, but there's no one else in the room.

"Who's he talking to?" Cary asks. "Could the crown be damaged? Or is someone reaching out to him?"

David doesn't say anything for a while, but he's listening, his eyes moving back and forth. And then: "How can you know what's best for me if you don't even agree with each other?”

"Two telepaths?" Cary wonders.

“You said you were permanent?” is the next thing David says, and he's upset. Then, with resignation: “I’m insane.”

Kerry doesn't like the way this one-sided conversation is going.

There's a bit more, but nothing that gives them any better sense of who David is talking to or how. And then David says, "You know, maybe you two should go... wherever it is you go when I don't need protecting." Then he's quiet and still.

"Huh," Ptonomy says, tilting the Vermillion's head.

"Interesting," Cary says. "Can we see what we missed?"

Ptonomy stares at the screen and the video rewinds. Kerry sees Clark giving David the shot and leaving. She sees herself in the room, holding David's head so he doesn't hurt himself. She sees herself crying, then running off to where she is now.

Almost the moment she leaves, David starts listening to something. Then he says, “That’s what I’d expect a hallucination to say." A long pause as he listens. "Like my rational mind. He was nice.” Then: “I don’t understand. You’re new.” And then they're back to the part they saw before.

Cary has them watch it all through a few times. He frowns thoughtfully. "Kerry, you said he was talking to himself before."

"Uh, yeah," she says, feeling confused and unsettled and not liking it one bit. "I thought he was shouting at me but I wasn't saying anything so why would I need to shut up? He said he was yelling at himself. And then, um, then he said, 'I told myself to leave. Now I’m telling myself to stay.'"

"These visions seem to be trying to help him," Cary says, rubbing his chin. "Or at least he thinks they are."

"It could be Farouk," Ptonomy says. "More mind games."

"Possibly," Cary says. "But I don't think so. Can we see the live feed? What's he doing now?"

Kerry squints at the picture. David's eyes are closed, and his breathing is slow and even. "He's sleeping."

"Right." Cary taps his chin, looks up and thinks, then thinks some more. Usually when he gets like this, Kerry goes off and finds something to punch to keep herself busy. But she needs to know what's happening to David.

"What about the shot Clark gave him?" she asks. "Did that make him see things?"

"Unlikely," Cary says. "The last thing Clark wants to do is make David more unstable. No, that was just to sedate him. I think David's seen these 'hallucinations' before."

"I'll review the Admiral's archive," Ptonomy says. "Clark wasn't lying. Everything we've done here has been recorded. If there's evidence something was wrong before—"

"Yes, that footage may be just what we need," Cary agrees. "Can you leave this feed up? I need to keep a close eye on David but I have to stay here with Melanie and Oliver."

"I can go back and sit with him," Kerry offers. She doesn't like leaving David alone. If anyone tries to hurt him right now, there's nothing he can do to stop them. That's the worst feeling in the world.

"It's been a long day," Cary sighs. "For all of us. If David's resting, we should take the opportunity ourselves."

"I'll watch over him," Ptonomy promises. "I don't sleep anymore."

Cary turns to the Vermillion and puts his hand on its shoulder. "I can't express how good it is to have you back." He pulls the Vermillion into a hug, then releases it. "I'm sorry we couldn't save you. All of you."

"Being dead is a lot busier than I imagined," Ptonomy says, and if he still has a face somewhere he sounds like it's smiling. "I've got this. You two get some sleep. We'll find our answers tomorrow."

The Vermillion walks out, and Kerry waits, watching the monitor, until she sees it appear in David's room. It sits down in the chair next to the bed, perfectly poised and alert. She breathes out, the awful tightness in her stomach finally relieved because David has someone to protect him again.

She just hopes he has good dreams tonight. Anything's better than his reality.

Chapter 4: Day 2: The last thing I ever want to be. (David)

Chapter Text

It's hard for David to sleep while he's strapped to a bed with needles in his brain. But he's so incredibly tired, exhausted down to his bones. So he drifts in and out of consciousness, sometimes pushed down by the sedative and sometimes pulled up by the pain.

The sedative keeps him calm, and it's a familiar, forced calm. There’s nothing he can do to escape it even though he hates it. It makes him feel like he did in Clockworks. It makes him feel like they're going to send him right back where he belongs.

Clockworks never actually let him out in the first place. His freedom was stolen, an escape made under the false pretenses of a body swap. So maybe it's just the truth he's feeling. All of this, Summerland and Division 3, that's the dream, the nightmare. Soon he's going to wake up from all of it and he'll be back in those same walls, that same routine; the same questions asked over and over, the same medications forced on his body so it submits. He'll be just another cog, one tiny gear in the huge machinery of mental health, turned in circles until his mind or his body or both simply give out under the strain and he's thrown away.

Will it be worse this time, because he let himself believe he could have anything better? Or easier because he'll go back knowing it's exactly what he deserves?

Clark's right about him. He is a danger to himself and others, far more than he ever imagined. He'd thought that once Farouk was gone, he could finally have the normal life Amy wanted for him, or as close to normal as he could get as an incredibly powerful mutant. But his mental monsters are a hydra, and once one was cut out, two more sprang up in its place.

That's probably harsh. Green and Yellow aren't anything like Farouk. It's their existence that's the problem. If he can believe them, they've always been there, even though he didn't know at all. It's entirely likely that Farouk did make him forget them. Farouk made him forget so much, so much that if David really tries to remember the path of his life, all he finds are fragments, dead ends, roads cut off by lost bridges. Memories of things that aren't real, and real things twisted out of shape. And fear, so much unending, awful, suffocating fear.

Green said he'd changed, that he's a different person now than he used to be. But how could he ever be who he was before when there's nothing left of who he was but scraps? He spent years in Clockworks trying so hard to make himself a person again, sewing those scraps together with bits of cotton thread, and this ragged patchwork quilt is the best he could do. His clearest memories are from his childhood, when everything still felt new and full of wonder and hope. When he felt as safe and loved as he ever would, surrounded by calming nature, cared for by Amy and his parents and King. Even though his family wasn't his family, even though King wasn't real, he still remembers how much they loved him, and how much he loved them back.

None of that matters, now. How could it matter? All that hard work, and the truth is he failed. He rebuilt himself wrong. That's the only explanation for all of it. He thought he was building a man and instead he made a monster, and maybe that makes sense because he wasn't much better than a monster before. He wanted so much to blame all of it on Farouk: the drugs, the lies, all of it. But listening to Green, hearing the story of a life that he only knows in fragments, the cold hard truth settled in his gut like a stone.

He's always known what he is. His mistake was letting himself hope he could be someone better. Someone good and loved and worth loving.

Syd.

He's never going to see her again. Why would she ever want to, after what he did?

His heart hurts so much. He doesn't want to feel it anymore.

"I told you," says Yellow's voice, a whisper in his mind. "Stop being so hard on him. He can't take it."

Go away, David pleads. He's so, so tired and everything hurts.

"David, I'm sorry," Green says, his usual attitude gone for once. "I didn't mean— It's not as bad as all that."

"Yeah, apologize to the puppy after you kicked it," Yellow grumbles.

"Do you wanna be right or do you wanna help?" Green asks.

"Both? Oh, fine, I'll gloat later. David, c'mon buddy."

"He's not actually a dog," Green mutters.

Their voices are close now, like they're right next to him, but David doesn't open his eyes. He's still in the liminal space between waking and sleeping, the medication holding him level like water weights.

"Look, the whole 'wipe Syd's mind' thing," Yellow says. "That was totally my fault. Real shitty advice, right when you were super vulnerable from her trying to murder us. Okay? My fault, not yours. And did I mention that she fired an actual bullet at our head?"

"Maybe you shouldn't help."

"Okay, you try."

"David," Green says. "David, you're not a monster. Yeah, you screwed up, but... It was hard, okay? Watching him torture you for— He wouldn't let you hear me for so long. I got— I got angry. At you. But it's his fault. It's always been his fault, this whole—" He sighs. "Please don't give up. Not again."

They're nice words, but they're just telling him what he wants to hear. It's not the truth. The truth is he's the one who messed with Syd's mind because he was afraid of losing her. The truth is he's the one who lied, who stole for drug money, who got into fights and hurt people and took and took from the people who loved him until there wasn't anyone left who'd ever love him again.

He's so tired of trying to get better, when he'll never get better. He just wants to sleep.

"Okay," Green says, gently. "Then sleep."

Something pushes him down, and sleep finally takes him.

§

David knows he's dreaming when he realizes nothing’s holding him, when he touches his head and there's nothing on it and all the pain is gone. He doesn't care that it can't be real, that everything awful is still waiting for him when he wakes up; if dreams are his only escape from the horror his life has become, he'll go as deep into dreams as he can.

It feels good to move again. He starts walking and the world resolves around him into path through a summer forest, all deep greens and sweet air and birdsong. He walks, just walks, breathing and feeling his body, feeling alive.

Maybe he should stay here. Maybe he should never go back. Would the other hims take his place? It would be hard for them to do a worse job of being him than he's done. He doesn't know if they're really whole people but he's not a whole person either. Green would finally be able to make all the right choices he's always wanted to make for them. Yellow wouldn't have to save him all the time.

If he's the one who ends the world, then the world is better off without him.

He walks until the path ends at a beach full of sand and rounded rocks, and he recognizes this place. It's where he and Amy and King used to play, building sand castles and splashing in the waves and throwing rocks into the water as far as they could. He would find a stick and throw it and King would always bring it back, his tail wagging with pure joy.

His whole life is a delusion. Nothing happened the way he remembers. But none of that matters in dreams.

He sits down on the shore in a meditation pose, just above the line of wet sand, and closes his eyes. The sun is warm and pleasant. He tastes the salt on the ocean breeze as it ripples through his clothes and hair and caresses his skin. The waves are steady and he lets his mind follow their sound back and forth, and he drifts, at peace.

He's not sure how long he stays this way. A long time, probably hours. But then he hears footsteps crunching in the rough sand, and he opens his eyes.

"No," he says, immediately closing them again.

"I'm just here to talk," says Farouk.

"Nope," David says, shaking his head. "Fuck off."

"I intended to visit you in person, or even in your mind, but your friends are very protective of you. This is the only place they've let you be alone."

"What, did Kerry scare you off?" David says, opening his eyes again to glare at Farouk. David can easily imagine Kerry standing up to Farouk and telling him to get the hell out, even though he could turn her to dust with a thought.

"It would have been a simple matter to freeze all of them in place so they could not interfere, but there's really no need for such dramatics."

Farouk creates a beach chair and unfolds it. He puts it on the sand, angled so he can see David and the water, and makes himself comfortable.

David grinds his teeth.

"Is there a reason you're here? Besides torturing me some more? Because you won, okay? There's nothing left. You got everything, hooray for you."

"Not everything," Farouk says, taking a sip from the drink that's suddenly in his hand.

David scoffs. "There's nothing left. Unless you're here to convince me to throw myself into the ocean."

"Why would I need to?" Farouk asks. "You have already convinced yourself. I am here to give you a reason to live."

It's such an utterly absurd statement that David can barely believe he heard it.

"This— This was what you wanted," David insists. "It's what all this was about. I got away and you couldn't stand it. You couldn't stand me being happy for five whole seconds out of my entire life."

"Not at all. I was expecting you to escape. To become a glorious sunrise. But instead you are reduced. Tied to a bed and drugged, your powers stolen from you. They make you suffer because they think that will purify you. When the truth is, you have suffered beyond what they can imagine, and that is what made you into the very thing they fear."

"No," David says, and gets up and walks away. "I am not having this conversation."

"So you truly are giving up?" Farouk calls after him.

"Yes," David calls back. "I've thought it all through and made a clear and rational decision to make the world a slightly less awful place by removing myself from it, okay? Now leave me alone."

He walks further down the beach, but Farouk is waiting for him when he gets there, still lounging in his chair with his drink. David glares at the sky, wondering what kind of history-book monster he must have been in a past life. Maybe Genghis Khan. How many people did he kill, forty million? That's probably not enough for him to deserve this.

"So how will you do it?" Farouk asks. "Will you hang yourself again? Your friends will try to stop you."

"I don't know," David says, staring at the ocean so he doesn't have to look at Farouk. "I'll think of something."

"Think of how terrible they will feel when they find your body. After they tried so hard to help you."

"They'll get over it."

Farouk takes a sip of his drink. "Very well. Then once you are gone, who will save them from me?"

David rounds on him. "Don't you dare. Don't you dare. You asshole! Fuck you!"

"Ah, there is still a spark," Farouk says, grinning.

David kicks sand in his face. Farouk sputters and wipes the sand from his mouth.

"You're not gonna blackmail me out of killing myself!" David yells. He's livid, absolutely livid.

Farouk waves the sand from his suit and freshens his drink. "I believe I just did."

David turns and stomps back down the beach. He's not surprised at all when he finds Farouk at the other end.

"Fine. You're obviously not gonna leave me alone. So what do you want? You wanna turn me evil so I'll end the world? Fuck you. Kerry's right, that's stupid."

"Is it? You are already so convinced you are a terrible monster."

"I hurt people," David says, poking his own chest. "I hurt Syd."

"You are still at the kiddie table," Farouk says, flashing his teeth. "A god who thinks he is a child."

"What, you think I want to sit down and eat with you? You are the last thing I ever want to be. That's why I want to kill myself, because of everything you did to— I don't know, shape me in your image. You said I was, what, your baby? That you tried to make me love you? You lived in my head and sucked me dry and tortured me. That's not love. No matter what you do to mess me up, that will never be love.”

If David didn't know better, he would swear that something he just said actually got under Farouk's skin. But Farouk's skin is thicker than rhino hide, so he doubts it.

"Good," Farouk says, standing up from his chair. He clenches his fist and the drink is gone. "The spark has become a fire. Now feed it."

David steps back, shaking his head. "Leave me alone."

"Do you think I won't do it?" Farouk challenges. "Do you think I will spare them because you are no longer there to witness their suffering? For thirty years I have tortured you, and your father has known none of it. I need no audience but my own victims."

Revulsion rises in David's gut. "I won't let you hurt them."

"Really? Will you play the hero from your hospital bed, crippled by your friends and your own self-loathing?"

"No, I—" David shakes his head. "I'm not a hero. Stop trying to make me a hero!"

"But what is a villain without a hero?" Farouk says, advancing for every step David retreats. "What is a monster without its prey? A torturer without a victim? The moon without the sun?"

"What, I'm your victim and I'm the sun?" David asks, still retreating. "You wanna talk about sick? You're sick. You are a literal sickness."

Something catches the back of David's foot, and he falls back on the sand. Farouk looms over him with a terrifying grin. "Then fight your sickness. And then we will see. Time to wake up."

Farouk steps on his chest and pushes down, and David screams as he's shoved down into the sand, into the earth, into darkness.

He wakes screaming and cries out in agony as his rough awakening jolts the crown. All the pain comes back at once, and tears spill from his eyes at the cruel futility of his life. He can't do this, he can't get dragged into another one of Farouk's torturous games. But there's no way out. He can't even kill himself without Farouk winning.

"David?" says a voice, electronic but familiar.

David blinks the tears from his eyes and looks over at the shape in the chair. It's a Vermillion. What the hell is a Vermillion doing here? Where's Kerry?

"David, it's me. Ptonomy."

"Oh!" David slumps as he remembers. "The mainframe. Right. Hi."

"Bad dream?"

"Uh, pretty bad."

"Wanna talk about it?"

David really, really doesn't. He wants to forget it ever happened. But keeping secrets about Farouk really didn't work so well for him the last time around. "Oh, just— Farouk, visiting my dreams to let me know if I kill myself he'll torture all my friends for decades."

The Vermillion tilts its head. "Is that a joke?"

"I really wish it was."

"So you were planning on killing yourself?"

"Yeah."

"That's a stupid plan," Ptonomy says, with as much feeling as can be conveyed from the speaker of an unemotional android. "I can't say I approve of his methods, but I'm glad he made you change your mind."

"I didn't change my mind," David grumbles, but it's half-hearted. "He blackmailed me. So I'm holding that particular stupid plan in reserve. For now."

Ptonomy goes quiet, and David wonders for a moment if he’s lost control of his Vermillion like he did in the cafeteria. But then he's back.

He reaches down and opens all the restraints.

David stares, frozen, afraid to move in case this is some kind of test or trick. Is this Ptonomy at all? Is it Farouk pretending to be Ptonomy? Is he still dreaming? What's happening right now?

"David, it's okay," Ptonomy assures him. "The restraints were only because you kept trying to hurt yourself. You're not going to hurt yourself now, right?"

David carefully sits up. His whole body feels stiff and sore from being immobilized for so long. "No," he agrees, moving his arm and staring in wonder that he can move his arm. He carefully touches the crown. Whatever the trick is to getting it off, he doubts he can manage it with bare hands. Not without brain damage and likely death, which isn't really an option anymore.

"Are you sure this is okay?" David asks. The last thing he wants is Clark barrelling in with another round of sedative. He still feels fuzzy at the edges but he must have slept a good while if most of it has worn off.

"I got permission from the Admiral. It's okay."

"Wow. Um, thank you." David tries to stand up, but his legs are so shaky he nearly falls.

"Take it easy," Ptonomy says. "You've had a rough time."

"Yeah," David says, and it's such a massive understatement that he might start crying again, or laughing, or both. He sits back down and rests his face in his hands and breathes.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Ptonomy asks. "Lemme guess, waffles?"

Well, yes, obviously, but— "Why are you—" David doesn't understand what's happening.

"David, I know what you've been through," Ptonomy says. "I know what Clockworks was like. This isn't Clockworks."

"No, but—"

"We're your friends. We want you to get better. This isn't a punishment, even if you tried to make it one."

"I didn't—" David rubs his face. "Why aren't you mad at me?"

"Should I be?"

"You're dead. Or not alive, I don't know. Because of me, because of Farouk. He sent that black thing that— You know. He hurt you because of me. That's what he's going to do to everyone if I—"

"If you kill yourself."

David swallows.

"I don't know what he did to you since that orb took you," Ptonomy says. "We're going to have long talk about that, and about other things. For now what's important is that we take care of you."

"I thought you were the memory guy, not the talk guy."

"I'm not really the memory guy anymore. Not like before. Besides, Melanie's still out of commission, so I'm what you've got."

"Melanie's alive?" It's the first David's heard of it.

"And Oliver," Ptonomy says. "But they're still unconscious. We don't know if they'll wake up again."

"Oh." David's mood starts to crash again. God, he should have known Oliver was Oliver. He should have known something was wrong with Melanie. He should have helped her, not let her sink into a drugged stupor like the ones he sank himself into for years. He made such a terrible hero, it's no wonder it was so easy for everyone to believe he's doomed to be a villain.

The door opens, and two more Vermillions march in.

"Fresh clothes and fresh waffles," Ptonomy says. One Vermillion puts down a stack of David's own clothes; no prisoner stripes, either black and white or orange and yellow. The other gives him a tray with a generous stack of steaming hot waffles.

David hesitates, still feeling like he doesn't deserve any of it. But as the smell of the waffles hits him, he's suddenly ravenous. There's even syrup.

Fuck it, he's starving. He pours on the syrup and shoves almost half of the first waffle into his mouth, and god, he's never tasted anything as good as this, ever, in his whole life. He moans as he chews, and as the first bites hit his stomach, the oncoming wave of despair drops back into the sea and retreats.

Waffles really do make everything better.

Comic illustration by Hexiva

Chapter 5: Day 2: Nothing about this is all right. (Syd, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

It's the second morning in a row that Syd has woken up and wanted to vomit, but this time she actually manages it. She makes it to the bathroom in time and kneels over the toilet until it's over.

She's probably lucky she didn't give herself alcohol poisoning last night, she drank so much. Her mouth tastes like something died in it. Her head is throbbing and her stomach hurts now that it's empty. She brushes her teeth three times and drinks two full glasses of water and regrets ever taking a liking to whiskey back when she was a stupid teenager and thought liking whiskey made her look intellectual.

God, she did a lot of stupid shit as a teenager.

She has to shower and put on some clean clothes and be functional. She has to get out there and start saving David from Farouk. She has to be the hero -- for real this time, not because of some vague story about the apocalypse and a broken orb. But the morning sun peeking in through the blinds seems to be actively trying to murder her brain.

She just needs a minute. Just a minute and she'll save the world.

There's a knock on the door. She groans.

It's Clark, again.

"Oh god, now what?" she moans, holding her head.

"Wow," Clark said, waving away the air. "How much did you drink last night?"

"Everything," Syd moans, and leans her face against the doorframe. The metal feels good against her forehead.

"Did it help?"

"Yes, actually. Please tell me you have good news."

Clark gives her a face. It's not the face she was hoping for.

"It's not as urgent as yesterday," he tells her. "We have a few minutes. Get cleaned up and I'll take you to Cary."

"Not again," Syd mumbles, but pushes off the frame and stumbles back to get ready.

She feels vaguely human once she's done, and when she looks in the bathroom mirror she supposes that it doesn't much matter if her eyes are shadowed and puffy. She's not going to get through the day without crying anyway. She might as well go into battle with her scars on display.

Clark hands her a cup of tea he made with her kettle and she sticks her face in the steam.

"Thanks," she mumbles.

"You're gonna need the caffeine, trust me."

Clark didn't offer her caffeine and moral support yesterday. "Are you telling me this is worse than yesterday?"

Clark gives her another face. "It's not better. A lot's been happening while you were, ah— asleep."

"Jesus." Syd sips the tea. It burns her tongue and she winces.

"Interesting chat you had with Lenny, by the way. Good catch on the whole 'how did David survive' thing. But it's not gonna be much help."

Syd frowns but doesn't ask him to explain. She'll find out soon enough. "Does this place have any concept of privacy?"

"Nope. But that's probably for the best, given what we're dealing with now."

As they approach the lab, Syd says, "Please tell me Farouk isn't in there."

"No," Clark says, sounding relieved about it himself. "But we do have another surprise guest."

There's a Vermillion standing in the lab, talking to Cary. That's odd, since they're not usually very talkative.

Cary waves her over. "Syd! Come over and say hello to Ptonomy."

"I'm sorry, what?" Clark was right, she is going to need caffeine. More of it than this. Maybe an entire cup of Farouk's café serré.

"Syd," says the Vermillion, with Ptonomy's voice sing-songing out of its speaker. "I'm alive inside the mainframe. Admiral Fukuyama has lent me this Vermillion. I'm thinking about having a suit made for it. Full bodystocking isn't really my style."

"Ptonomy," Syd says, stunned. "Wow, it's really you." She's not a hugger, generally, for obvious reasons. But Ptonomy is actually safe to touch now, and she feels like she should make some kind of gesture to welcome him back. She leans forward and gives him an awkward hug, made extra awkward because the Vermillion's body doesn't react. She lets go and tries to recover from her embarrassment. "I'm really glad you're alive. Do you know what's going on?"

"I've been talking to David. There's been a development in his situation. More than one, actually."

Ptonomy's Vermillion walks over to a monitor, currently displaying David's cell. Kerry's with him and he's sitting up, dressed in his normal clothes and looking a hell of a lot better than the last time she saw him. The sound is muted, but he and Kerry are chatting and he's still wearing the crown.

Everyone gathers together to listen.

"So, David's been having a rough time. He's been suicidal, tried to hurt himself more than once. We've been keeping a close eye on him, but not close enough. Last night, while he was asleep, Farouk visited him."

"And you didn't stop him?" Syd exclaims, horrified.

"We have no way to stop him," Clark says. "You try telling an omega-level mutant no."

"True. But we also couldn't because we didn't know he was there. He went directly into David's dreams. Apparently it was the only way he could speak to him privately. When David told him to get the hell out, Farouk told him that if he tried to go through with killing himself, Farouk would dedicate himself to torturing all of us for the rest of our lives."

It's not caffeine Syd needs, it's more whiskey.

"When David woke up, he told me about what happened, and that Farouk had blackmailed him into putting his suicide on hold. After conferring with the Admiral, we decided that David is not currently a danger to himself, so he's been released from the restraints. Now that he's had a chance to settle, we're going to have our first therapy session."

"To talk him out of trying to kill himself?" Syd hopes.

"We have bigger problems to deal with first. This was from last night." The monitor changes, and now David is lying in the bed, wearing all white and strapped down. He's alone but every so often he talks aloud, like he's in a conversation with more than one person. The things he says are strange. He ends the conversation by telling whoever is talking to him to leave.

"And this was from the night before."

The scene changes again, and now it's the room where David went to sleep alone after they returned from Le Désolé. David is sitting on the bed, looking worried. Then he looks irritated, and turns to the side, and says "I can fix it. I just need time. You saw Syd, she didn't remember." He looks around, listening to nothing. "She's confused. I just need-- we just need time together so she can remember what we had-- have." Another listening pause. "Anyway, Farouk's still alive. I've got to finish it." Whatever he's hearing upsets him, and he shouts, "Would you just-- Get out of my head? I'm trying to think." He moves into a meditation pose and stays there.

"What the hell?" Syd says, stepping towards the screen. Was this right before he projected himself into her room? What the hell is going on? "Is there someone in his head? Controlling him? Again?"

"That's what we're going to find out," Ptonomy says. "Cary and I have a theory I'm going to test. We think this isn't another case of possession, or telepathic intrusion. But we can't be sure until we talk to David."

The screen changes back to the live feed, and now Syd understands what Clark meant. They might not need to worry so much about David's mental health if the reason he's been acting so strangely is that he's someone else entirely.

"For David's comfort," Ptonomy says, "I'd like to ask you all to stay and watch the session from here. This will be a delicate situation. If he does try anything, Kerry and I are strong enough to safely restrain him. Still, I believe he's not in any danger of harming himself, not as long as all our lives are at risk if he does."

Syd stares at the monitor. What is even happening? She can't process this. She walks over to the empty bed and sits down.

Cary comes over and carefully takes the cup from her hand before she drops it. "Syd, it'll be all right. If it's what I think it is... it'll be all right."

"Nothing about this is all right," Syd says, hearing the panic in her voice. God, last night she thought she had it figured out. She thought she could deal with this crazy situation, find her way back to David and maybe... But he's been trying to kill himself. He might have killed himself last night, while she was passed out in bed sleeping off her drinking binge, and the only reason he didn't was because Farouk popped in and blackmailed him into staying alive.

And now there's someone in his head, telling him to do things, controlling him. Again. God, it never ends.

"How long has this been going on?" she asks.

"That's what we need to find out," Cary says. "I'll handle things on this end," he tells Ptonomy. "Go talk to David."

"Wish me luck," Ptonomy says, and the Vermillion leaves the lab.

Syd's starting to think that throwing up is going to be the highlight of her morning.

§

Ptonomy sits down on the bed with David and sets down his supplies. He can't do much body language work with his host Vermillion, at least not until he's figured out the equivalent of fine motor control. So he has to let his voice do the therapy heavy lifting, even though when he speaks he sounds like he's singing.

Kerry sits in the chair next to the bed and gives David a friendly pat on the shoulder. He's nervous, but he manages a smile back to her.

He's glad that Kerry and David have bonded over the past two days and that she's staying to support him. They've made a surprising pair, but a well-matched one. Cary commented to him earlier that he was so impressed with how well Kerry has connected with David, relating to him and reaching out to him in a way she's never done with anyone but Cary himself. Maybe because she sees David in this state as someone else she can protect. And with David's fragile condition, Kerry's certainty of mind is just what David needs as an influence right now. Based on David's encounter with Farouk, she's already helped make him a little bit better.

But a little bit better isn't going to be enough. Not if he and Cary are right.

"David," Ptonomy begins, in as soothing a tone as he can manage, "there's two big things we need to talk about. We're gonna talk about what's happened to you since the orb took you. But first we need to talk about the voices you've been hearing. The hallucinations?"

David goes pale and wide-eyed. "I-- How did you--"

"You've been talking to yourself for days," Ptonomy says. "Of course we noticed. But I think you've been hearing the voices for longer than that."

David gives a shaky nod.

"How long?"

"Um, a couple of weeks."

"Since we got Farouk out of your head?"

"Yeah." David swallows. "I wasn't-- At first I thought they were just more noise, leftovers, but once everything else was quiet-- They were still there."

"How many voices?"

"Two. Just two."

"Good, you're doing great." David's dealing with all of this remarkably well, but in a way that's concerning itself. David's spent almost his entire life with Farouk in his head, messing with his perceptions and giving him hallucinations, and then there's David's powers themselves and the complications they add. Ptonomy always suspected that David has a very shaky grasp of reality, and this is only turning that suspicion into a certainty.

"They weren't-- They didn't try to scare me or anything. They're not like-- They've been helping me. When things are difficult." David gives a harsh laugh and rubs at his face. "Things have been really difficult."

"I know," Ptonomy soothes. "So they helped you? How?"

"Well, there's two of them, and they're-- they're pretty different. One of them's kinda bossy, gives me a lot of advice. The other one, um, encourages me to, um, use my powers. Apparently he's been protecting me."

"Protecting you?"

"From Farouk. Other threats. When I get scared, he--" Something about this upsets David, and he stops, fidgets nervously. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"We do, but we can come back to this part later. What about their appearance? You've seen them, not just heard them, right?" It's not typical for hallucinations to be part of what David's dealing with, but there's nothing typical about what David is dealing with.

"Yeah. Yeah, um." Another nervous swallow, a nervous glance at Ptonomy and away. "They look like me. I've started calling them Green and Yellow, because that's the color shirts they're wearing."

"They don't have their own names?"

"I don't—" David says, honestly bewildered. "I didn't even know they were real until-- not that they're real, but-- I only started seeing them after-- In the desert. That's when they--" He's struggling, trying not to get upset, but it's upsetting him. He glances to the side, away from Kerry, and makes a small, dismissive motion.

"Are they here now?" Ptonomy asks, gently.

David looks guilty, like he's been caught hiding something. He nods. "They've been kinda quiet after... There was a lot of yelling, before, and I was upset, and-- I mean, I'm okay now, obviously, but--"

David is obviously very much not okay. "Can I talk to them?" Ptonomy asks.

"Um. I-- I guess? I can ask--"

"No, I mean, can they talk to me directly? Do they take control of your body?"

David wraps his arms around himself. "I don't-- Yellow said-- When I'm in danger, when I can't-- When I can't protect myself, he protects me. They said they were a-- a stress response. To protect me."

Ptonomy can tell that David's getting near his limit, so it's time to change tack. "Based on what you've told me, I have a pretty good idea of what's going on. Would you like me to tell you?"

David takes a calming breath. Braces himself. "Okay." He looks at Ptonomy with wary hope.

"What you've described. Other people that are part of you, that are there to protect you. They are a kind of stress response. It's unusual for them to manifest so late--"

"They're not new," David interrupts. "I mean, I thought they were new, but-- They said Farouk made me forget them."

Ptonomy almost wishes he still wrote case studies. David would make a barn-burner of a case study.

"Okay," he continues. "That actually matches how these things usually happen. They're caused by extreme trauma, usually in childhood. I think that fits your situation pretty well."

David's expression is a masterful understatement.

"Sometimes that trauma can be more than one person can bear. So the mind splits, and one or more other identities form to help spread the load. These multiple identities work together in what's called a system. So in your case, you, David, are the main member of the system. And Green and Yellow, they're other members, or alters, depending on how much they participate."

He stops and lets David take that in.

David fidgets nervously, looks at where Green and Yellow must be standing. He turns back to Ptonomy and rubs at his face. "So you're saying that-- You're saying that I'm schizophrenic."

"The correct term is dissociative identity disorder. The two diagnoses are very--"

"I don't care what it's called!" David shouts, and then takes calming breaths as he tries to regulate his anxiety. "I'm sorry, I just-- I can't believe this is happening." His breathing quickens and he draws in on himself. "Leave me alone!" he shouts, but it's directed at Green and Yellow.

"You're upset," Ptonomy prompts.

"Of course I'm upset!" David says, eyes wide. "I thought--" He's fighting tears, now. "I thought I was-- I just wanted everything to be-- to be okay, to be normal. Nothing's normal. Even my own mind isn't--" He laughs bitterly. "It's not even my mind."

"You're still you," Ptonomy assures him. "David is still David."

David shakes his head, refusing the comfort. "Is there something I can take? Medication to make them go away?"

David asks the question so desperately, Ptonomy wishes he had a better answer for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't something you can cure or fix. They're a part of you and they have been for most of your life, even if you can't remember. The best thing for all of you is to accept each other and learn to work together."

"No. No." David flinches away from nothing, and it must have been Green or Yellow reaching out to comfort him. "Go away. Go away. Go away! Go away!" He keeps chanting it, his eyes squeezed shut and his hands over his ears, until he opens them and looks around and slumps with relief.

"They're gone?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods. He looks haggard, haunted. The reaction is worse than Ptonomy expected, but in hindsight it makes sense. David's still recovering from the trauma of discovering he had a mental parasite all his life, still recovering from so much, and even if Green and Yellow have been helping him, their presence and his diagnosis have shaken him badly just when he needs as much stability as he can get.

Ptonomy's deeply worried for him. He would put David back in the restraints if he didn't know it would only make his situation worse. David's lost so much control over himself on all levels, they can't risk taking any more away from him even if it puts him at risk. They'll just have to hope that Farouk's threats are powerful enough to keep him alive.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, gently. "We're not gonna talk about anything else. That was it for now, okay?"

David doesn't respond. Damn it. Ptonomy can't end the session like this. He needs to help bring David back to himself, at least a little. But he doesn't think familiar clothes and waffles will do it this time.

"Kerry, could you?" Ptonomy tilts the Vermillions head, and thankfully Kerry understands. She sits down next to David and wraps her arms around him.

"It's okay," she tells him. "Me and Cary have always been inside each other. I protect Cary all the time, and he takes care of me. We've got a system, too."

David chokes up. He tries to say something but can't. He starts crying, which is good, and curls into her arms, which is better. Thank god.

He waits until David has cried himself out, then he takes several items from his supplies.

"When you're feeling better, I want you to try something for me. I want you to ask Green and Yellow to write their names on these cards. Write your own on the third. We'll need them later, okay?"

David accepts the cards and the marker. "Okay." He looks a little bit less awful, but this was a terrible shock for him. They'll have to let him process before they go any further.

"Kerry, can you stay with him? I'll have some lunch brought in for you both."

"I got this," Kerry says, confident.

"Thank you," he tells her. "I'll go speak with the others. If you need anything just call, I'll be listening."

§

Syd doesn't say anything. No one says anything.

David. Oh god, David.

This is-- She knows exactly what this is. He told her what this is, in Summerland, right before they got Farouk out of his head.

"More than anything else," she says aloud, needing to hear the words he said. "You want to believe you're not sick, because that means you're not crazy. It means you can fall in love and live happily ever after. But you know if you believe it, if you surrender to the hope and you're wrong, then you're never coming back."

"Did David say that?" Cary asks.

Syd nods, and she was right. She is going to cry today. She lets the tears fall, doesn't wipe them away.

Syd told him he wasn't sick. Melanie told him he wasn't sick. They all tried so hard to make him believe he wasn't sick, so he did. And now he can't accept that he is, and it's hurting him so much.

"Do you think he's never coming back?" she asks Cary.

"No, no," Cary says, gently. "That's what he's afraid of, but we're not going to let that happen."

"Maybe--" Syd sniffs. "Maybe I should--"

"No," Cary says, shaking his head.

No. If she went there, if he saw her-- He's already suicidal. God, if he saw her, he might--

David. Oh god, David. Please don't give up again. Please.

Chapter 6: Day 2: I want to talk to Clark. (David)

Chapter Text

A while after Ptonomy leaves, some Vermillion come by with lunch trays and clean bedclothes. David stands aside as they strip away the sheets and replace the bloodstained pillow. They remove the restraints from the bed, so it's just a bed, and instead of hospital white the new sheets are familiar, yellow, with a quilted blanket. If he could feel anything, he isn't sure if they'd make him feel better or worse.

When they leave, he sits down on the clean bed and curls up into a ball.

Kerry, diligent in her body stuff practice, reluctantly chews her way through some dumplings, and slurps with enthusiasm at some kind of soda. David leaves his tray untouched on the other end of the bed. Right now he can't even imagine the concept of hunger.

He just wants to be alone, but they don't trust him to be alone. Kerry was absolutely resolute about staying put. The most she would do was to move her chair away from the bed so he could have some personal space.

Ha. Personal space.

His life is over.

He’s never going to see daylight again. Division 3 will never let him out of this cell. He’ll have to suffer wearing this painful crown for the rest of his life, however long or short that will be, and then they’ll kill him— No, they’ll put him down because he’s nothing more than a rabid dog, too sick and dangerous for the world to tolerate.

Green and Yellow are gone — or not gone, he doesn't know what they do when he can't hear them. But after he stubbornly ignored their attempts to talk to him, they finally stopped trying and went quiet.

He doesn’t care if they want to help him. They’re what’s making him sick. They're why his life is over.

He just wants to die. Why won’t they let him die? What’s the point in keeping him alive? Why make him suffer and suffer when there's nothing left to hope for? At least he understands why Farouk won’t let him go. David’s pain is his pleasure, the way it’s always been. The only thing David's life is good for now is being the punching bag for a vile sadist whose godlike powers will ensure he never escapes.

Maybe he can convince Clark to put a stop to this farce. He’s the only one of them who seems to understand the truth, who knows what Division 3 should have done back when they had the chance.

David raises his head from his knees. "I want to talk to Clark."

Kerry slurps the last of her drink and sets the empty glass aside. She narrows her eyes supiciously. "Why?"

"It's private."

Kerry snorts. "Yeah, in this place? Good luck with that."

"I want to talk to Clark," David says again, too done with everything to deal with anything else.

"No," Kerry says. "Not until you tell me why."

David tightens the hug he has around his folded legs. "I want to talk to Clark." He's not raising his voice. He's just going to keep saying it until he gets what he's asking for.

Kerry huffs, like she can't believe she has to deal with him being such a child. "You're just trying to trick me into leaving."

"I want to talk to Clark."

"I'm not leaving you alone so you can try to—" Kerry says, too angry to finish.

David looks away from her. "Because of Farouk."

"Don’t be stupid," Kerry says. "I know you’re hurting but we’re all here because we care about you and we want you to get better. I don't care about that stupid jerk. He can threaten me all he wants, if he tries anything I'll kick him. Maybe he's the only thing that makes you care about your life but the rest of us just care about you because you're you, ok?"

David can't even begin to think about any of that. "I want to talk to—"

The door opens and Clark walks in.

"It's okay," Clark says, holding up a hand to pacify them. He turns to Kerry. "You don't have to leave him alone."

Clark holds the door open and looks at Kerry expectantly. With a huff she walks through, giving David a warning look as she leaves.

Clark closes the door and shuts it.

"Like she said, not much privacy in this place."

David puts his head back down. He feels the bed shift when Clark sits down.

"You wanted something?" Clark prompts, eventually.

David gathers his strength. He forces himself to look up, to meet Clark's eyes so he knows this isn't a joke, so he knows David absolutely means every single word of what he's about to say.

"Farouk said— He only said I couldn’t kill myself. He didn’t say you couldn’t kill me."

Clark, to his credit, doesn't so much as blink. "I'm not sure he'll see it that way. Suicide-by-proxy is still suicide. And honestly are you willing to take that risk?"

David puts his head back down. He doesn't have the energy to argue, especially when he's doomed to lose.

"I’m sorry, it's just not possible," Clark continues. "Not unless Farouk suddenly changes his mind about keeping you alive."

"He won't."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Clark asks. "Where there's life there's hope?"

"Oh, please," David grumbles, looking up again just so he can show that he's annoyed. "Say it like you mean it."

"You're right," Clark acknowledges. "At the moment, I don't see any way out of this situation for you. You're at the mercy of an unstable god who's tortured you for your entire life. What I'm trying to do is prevent anyone else from ending up in the same situation."

David could pretend that Clark is talking about Farouk, but he knows he's not.

"Please," he begs, the word trembling and heartfelt.

"My advice is that you focus on getting better," Clark says. "If you can be considered stable—"

"I'm sorry, what's the point?" David asks, bitterly. "I'm sure you heard Ptonomy from wherever it is you listen in on me. There's no cure, no treatment. There's no such thing as better for me, not— not anymore. And even if everything else was great, we both know Farouk will never stop torturing me so what's the point? Just... just let me go. Before it's too late."

David puts his head back down and breathes in the small space between his chest and his knees. God, he just can't. He can't.

"There... is a way," Clark says. "For us to actually let you go."

David's head feels so heavy when he picks it up again. He doesn't bother to ask, he just waits to hear what nonsense Clark has come up with now.

"There's no cure for your illness," Clark admits. "But there may be one for your powers." When David just stares at him, he continues. "I've already raised the matter with Cary, but he refused to consider it, said it was too dangerous—"

"But it's possible?" David asks, a tiny spark of hope lighting in his chest. It burns like acid.

"Theoretically," Clark admits.

David sits up, lowers his knees. "And if I don't have any powers?" He leans forward.

"Then you would be nothing more than a man with mental illness. You would be free to leave, assuming you don’t kill yourself. Is that what you want?"

David’s powers are the only thing that make him special, the only reason he's worth anything to anyone. They're why Melanie found him and tried to help him, so he could win her war for her. They're why Division 3 needed him to stop Farouk, why Future Syd needed him for— whatever she— Whatever. It doesn't matter. Maybe if he doesn’t have them anymore, they’ll all let him go. Maybe even Farouk will let him go, because there’s no point in trying to make him crazy enough to destroy the world if he’s just a sick, powerless human.

And then when Farouk is gone, then he can kill himself.

"It’s what I want," David says, with absolute certainty.

Clark nods. "I’ll go talk to Cary."

§

Kerry's mad at him. He knows she was listening in from the hall, because the moment she came in she gave him a look so lethal by all rights he should be dead already and all his problems solved.

It doesn't matter. She can be mad all she wants. If this works, he'll never destroy the world and no one will be tortured and all of this, all of this will finally, finally, finally be over.

Cary doesn't look especially happy when he arrives. David doesn't care. For the first time in days, there's some kind of light at the other end of the tunnel. It doesn't matter to him if it's an exit or an oncoming train.

"I spoke to Clark," Cary says, sitting down in the same spot Clark had sat.

"And?" David asks, waiting.

"David," Clark says. "I want you to understand. There's only one way to remove your powers, and that requires a complete rewrite of your entire genetic code."

"Okay," David says.

"We only have one way to do that. A genetic sculpting gun. The same one Farouk stole and used to— alter your sister."

David leans back. Amy.

"The gun works by using someone else's genetic data. If we used it, it wouldn't just remove your powers. It would overwrite everything that makes you who you are. You wouldn't be yourself anymore."

It's not— David closes his eyes. It's not ideal. He would— He would die the way Amy died, if she— He can still hear her screams, the memory of her screams—

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter. So what if there's pain, blood, screaming? He'll die as he lived.

"Okay," David says, opening his eyes and trying not to shake. "Can you— Can you build another one? How long...?"

Cary looks away, covers his eyes, pushing up his glasses with his hand. Kerry sobs and runs out of the room, the door slamming behind her.

"David," Cary says, voice thick with grief.

"It's okay," David says, even though his own voice is trembling, even though his eyes are wet. "It's okay because— because there's no me anyway, there's nothing— I'm not— I wouldn't be dead, so Farouk—" He can't say any more, there's no air in his chest, he can't breathe past the pinprick tightness in his throat, he can't—

He pulls himself back into a ball, shaking, shaking.

When Cary's hand touches his shoulder, he flinches. But Cary doesn't take it away. He keeps touching David as he shakes and shakes and gasps against his knees.

"Of course there's a you," Cary says, so gently. "If there's no you, then who's making this huge decision?"

"No," David sobs. It's all he can say.

"Is that what you think?" Cary asks. "That you're gone?"

David lifts his head, even though he can't stop the tears pouring out of his eyes and there's snot in his nose and he still can't stop shaking and he still can't breathe.

Cary hugs him. He wraps his arms around David and holds him tight. It's a good hug, the best hug, and it feels like forever since anyone— He cries into Cary's sweater vest and cries and cries and cries, and Cary just keeps holding him.

It's a storm raging through him and when it's over there's nothing left, nothing. Cary lies him down, careful to place the pillow so there's isn't any pressure on the crown. He grabs the folded blanket from the end of the bed and wraps David up in it, tucking it tight around his body. He rests a hand on David's shoulder and stays with him.

"Did I ever tell you about how I met Kerry?" Cary doesn't wait for David to answer, just continues, his voice soft and lulling. "I was very young, just a little boy when I first heard her voice in my head. I was so young I didn't know there was anything strange about it. She was my invisible friend. And then one day she showed up, real as life, and I was so happy that I could finally see my invisible friend. But little boys grow up. And Kerry, she was so shy. If anyone else was around, she'd stay hidden deep inside of me where no one could see. But I kept hearing her, talking to her, because that was the only way I knew to be." He pauses. "Back then, no one understood much about multiple personalities. So I was diagnosed as schizophrenic."

David takes a sharp breath in.

"Our family was poor, but the school gave me medication. Antipsychotics. They didn't work, of course. Kerry kept talking and I kept talking back, but for years she didn't come out at all because she was afraid they would do to her what they were doing to me. For a while I thought I was losing my mind. Those years were very hard. But do you know what got me through them? Kerry. No matter what happened, she was always there, always sharing my experiences with me. As long as I could hear her, I knew I wasn't alone, that I never would be.

"And then one day, I met a man who told me about the existence of mutants. Oliver Bird and his wonderful wife Melanie. Melanie was the first person who Kerry felt safe enough to come out for. And then all of a sudden, I wasn't schizophrenic anymore, I didn't have multiple personalities. I was a mutant. Sometimes with situations like ours, it can take us a while to figure everything out."

David finds his voice, even though it's tight and rasping. "You're not—"

"I'm not?" Cary asks, warmly. "Not a mutant, like you? I don't share a body with another mind, like you? Kerry and I have been part of each other our whole lives, just like your other selves have always been a part of you. What we have, who we are. Maybe if it wasn't for my powers, my age, my diagnosis would have been the same as yours is now. But it doesn't matter what anyone calls it.

"David, you've survived so much. What you’ve been through, what you’ve lost. There are things you’ll never get back. But that’s not a reason to give up. Your situation will always be unique to you. But having other people inside you doesn't mean you're not there. It just means you're not alone. And that's the most important thing for you to remember right now. You’re not facing any of this on your own. You just have to let us help you, all of us, so one day you’ll be well enough to help yourself."

When he's finished, Cary stays with him, his hand resting on David's shoulder.

"Okay," David rasps. And maybe, maybe, maybe, there's a tiny spark of hope lighting in his chest that feels like sunlight.

§

Cary stays with him until he falls asleep. David's so tired, bone-weary, everything in him spent.

When he wakes, hours later, he's still tired. But the all-consuming black has receded from his soul. He can breathe again, so he breathes.

Eventually he sits up, rubs the dried tears from his eyes, the spit from his face. He feels like a mess and he probably looks like one. But there's no one there to see it, at least not in the room with him. He's alone.

He's alone. He nearly collapses with relief.

His tray at the end of the bed is gone, but the chair has been moved back beside the bed and there's another tray on it with a covered plate. He lifts the cover and there's a wrapped sandwich, some fruit. He puts the cover back on and next to the plate is a set of three blank cards and a marker.

He gets up, legs shaky, and washes his face at the sink. He is a mess, eyes red and puffy. But he feels purged and calmer than he's felt in days, weeks, all his frantic, nervous energy finally drained away.

He drinks a lot of water and eats the food. Then he puts the cards on the bed.

It's hard to not be afraid. He was possessed his whole life, haunted by another mind. He didn't know he was possessed and he didn't know about the other hims. What did Ptonomy call them? Alters?

Okay. His alters. Green and Yellow, or not, because they've been with him since he was a child, they must have names. Real names. Because they're real people. Like Kerry and Cary, living inside each other, real people living inside him, and he just forgot.

He just forgot. Like he forgot Benny. He forgets things, people. That doesn't mean Benny isn't real.

They're not parasites. They're not Farouk. They're not going to hurt him or scare him. They want to help him. They're just people, like him. They're parts of him that he forgot, like the other parts of him that he forgot.

"Hello?" he calls, voice rough and tentative.

Nothing, and suddenly he's worried. He pushed them away so much, what if they're never coming back? What if after all of this they don't want—

"Hey," says Green, his voice just behind David's left ear.

"Hi," says Yellow, from his right.

They're shy, David thinks. Like Kerry was shy.

He can do this. He's doing this.

"Hi," he says back, staring at the cards. "I'm sorry for all the— Um, so— I have this thing, this, um— I have to ask you something. If it's okay."

"It's okay," Green says, gently. He sounds a little bit like Cary when he talks that way, slow and easy.

The next part is hard. It's hard. It's giving up control and he has so little left to give. His hands are trembling as he grips the marker, removes the cap.

"I, um, I need you to— Each of you. One at a time. If you could use my, um, our hand? To write your names?"

God, this is strange. What is he even doing? This is madness.

But then his right hand steadies itself. It moves over the first card and brings the tip of the marker down. David watches as a name appears in careful handwriting, neater than his own.

"This is my name," says Green.

There's a pause, and then his right hand moves to the next card. His right hand is still steady even though his left hand is still trembling. The tip of the marker touches the paper, and writes in strong, all-block letters.

"This is mine," says Yellow.

His right hand starts trembling again, and that's when David knows they're done. So he brings the marker over to the third card, and writes his own name on it.

He looks at the three cards.

Divad, written neatly.

Dvd, in block letters.

David, the letters as shaky as his hands.

David.

There are two other people inside him. But he's still himself. He's still here.

David is still David.

He holds his card and cries, and smiles, and breaks down again.

Chapter 7: Day 2: His true face. (Cary)

Chapter Text

It's Kerry that he's worried about first. Cary's heart would have broken for her when he heard her anguished sob as she ran out of David's cell, if it hadn't already been shattered. But by the time he gets back to the lab, he finds her solely focused on knocking the stuffing out of the heaviest punching bag they have.

He knows from experience that there's no point in trying to talk to her when she's like this, in too much of a state to do anything but vent her anger. So he leaves her to it. When she's worked some of her feelings out — or she's destroyed every piece of training equipment they own — then he'll try and coax her into talking.

There's no rush, really. None of them are going anywhere.

Cary’s lab has never been so full of people. It’s not just Oliver and Melanie sleeping in his lab now. He’s had to bring more beds in, cots tucked into the corners because no one dares to leave for long. It’s probably for the best. David’s not the only one suffering from his pain, not by a long shot. It’s hard for all of them to watch him, to see him so broken.

It's best that they all stay close to each other. Cary's worried about all of them, even himself.

Except Clark. Cary's not worried about Clark. Right now, a part of Cary wishes that he could string Clark up in the exercise area and let Kerry work out her frustrations on him instead of the bag.

He doesn't know where Clark is now. Clark drifts in and out if the lab; he doesn’t need Ptonomy’s live feed to stay informed of David’s progress. There’s technology inside him, communications embedded in his body that keep him part of the flow of Division 3’s surveillance and command systems. In some ways he’s as much a part of Admiral Fukuyama’s mainframe as Ptonomy has become.

Cary wouldn't call Clark inhuman. That would be an insult to the inhuman.

What Clark did, telling David that there might be a way to remove his powers... When Cary saw him say it, over the feed, he was more furious than he had ever been in his life. David was already beyond a breakdown, deeply suicidal and heartbreakingly accepting of the necessity of his own death. And then because of Clark, Cary had no choice but to go down there and tell David what it would take to remove those powers. He had to explain to David exactly how horrible and untenable such an act would be.

Cary hoped, with all his heart, that his words would finally be enough to shock David back to sense. That the mere idea of dying in the same manner as his sister would make him see what he was doing to himself, to all of them. Surely, Cary hoped, surely that would finally make David see that all of this had to stop.

It didn't.

David begged Cary to kill him. To erase him. He begged him knowing exactly what he would suffer, having been tortured with the memory of Amy’s agonized transformation. David’s haunted, despair-fevered eyes will follow Cary to his grave.

Yet in the end it was enough. Thank god it was enough. David finally couldn’t drive himself any further, couldn’t hurt himself any more, even though he was pushing for that final, hideous step with all his might.

Cary did his best to catch him as he fell, tried to offer him a lifetime’s worth of wisdom earned with his own suffering and fear and pain, distilled down and sealed into a pill small enough to swallow. It's the only medicine he can truly offer, a tiny antidote to the poison that’s been burning David alive.

He thinks it was enough. He hopes...

After David finally fell asleep, Cary made the decision to let him wake up alone. Even though Cary has never truly been alone in his life — even though David hasn't either — he knows there is a curative effect to a quiet room, a chance to breathe, to be still. If David is ever going to get better, they have to give him the opportunity to do so. They have to trust David so he can learn to trust himself.

This is the most delicate of moments. David's lost too much to find his way back on his own, but he has to make the journey himself or it won't be his at all. Cary still believes that David can return to them, but only if they give him someplace to start, a first step on the path to healing.

Cary looks over at the live feed again. He can't look away from it for long, none of them can, even though David is still resting quietly, his breathing steady and even. Cary needs to see those signs of life, needs them to know he made the right choice two days ago, when Farouk came out of his cell and turned everything upside-down.

If David can't make it back to them, Cary knows he will blame himself. That grief will be his burden to bear, because it was his own testimony that started all this. It was his own handiwork, that tiny, innocent-looking orb, that snatched David away from Summerland. Even if he created it for good reason, even if David's fate truly was that of a world-killer, Cary knows in his heart that if the orb had never taken David away from them, then David wouldn't be lost to himself the way he is now.

He knows that Syd will blame herself, too. He knows she already does. She hasn't said anything since their short conversation after David's diagnosis. She's just haunted the lab with the rest of them, sometimes watching David, sometimes turning away because the pain of watching is too great.

He can't reach her either, not right now. Not while they're all suspended, waiting to see what will happen when David wakes, waiting to see if they can stop holding their breath. Waiting to see if David will live, so they can live.

While they're waiting, the last of their ragged crew returns. Cary knows he definitely should be worried about Ptonomy, no matter how well the man seems to be adapting to life in the Admiral's mainframe. His death was sudden and tragic and physically horrific. His mind has survived, seemingly intact, but at what cost to his soul? His spirit?

In a way, maybe David's condition is a blessing in disguise. It's brought Ptonomy back to them, given him a purpose outside of the mainframe. A connection to the humanity that he could easily have left behind and still might. Sometimes the best medicine for the soul is to reach out and give of one's self to another human being.

Ptonomy pauses in front of the live feed, then moves to a second monitor. The screen changes to reveal another moment in David's life, not this one but from two weeks ago. The moment of David's miraculous return to Division 3. The beginning of what Cary prays is not his end.

"Have you found something else?" Cary asks, going over to join him.

"Nothing yet," Ptonomy says. "But I thought a few more pairs of eyes might help."

Cary gives a hum of agreement. "If David's alters have taken charge of him in the past, there's no reason why it would be obvious. Especially if his identities are similar in affect. We might not know they're in control even once we know what we're looking for."

Ptonomy's Vermillion goes quiet. Then: "Earlier, David said that one of his alters admitted to controlling him when he’s in dangerous situations."

"Yellow," Cary recalls. "So when has David's life been in danger? When was he unable to protect himself?"

On the screen, Cary sees himself trying to wake David up. Kerry steps out to keep back the child soldiers, her fists raised.

"I don't think he has been in physical danger, not since he gained control over his powers," Ptonomy says. "Mental, emotional danger, but not physical."

On the screen, David opens his eyes and asks for waffles.

"What about last year?" Cary asks. "Before Farouk was removed." There was no surveillance system at Summerland. That kind of panopticon was antithetical to everything they were trying to achieve there. Clockworks, for all its faults, didn't invade the privacy of its patients that way either. But Division 3 has been recording everything for a long time.

The screen changes to surveillance video of the old Division 3 compound. David appears and strolls towards the guards. They open fire and he spins like a dancer as their limbs separate from their bodies.

"Farouk," Cary says, with disgust. There's nothing at all like David in how David's body prances through the compound, taunting and joyous as he effortlessly massacres everyone who tries to stop him.

"I agree," Ptonomy says. He must find the footage as disturbing as Cary, because he stops it, freezing on the inverted image of Farouk's misshapen form, the truth revealed by Division 3's psychic filters. The parasite, bloated on his victim's power.

Cary thinks back. "Division 3 took David before we could get to him after his escape from Clockworks. Before we rescued him, is there any footage?"

There is. Cary's never seen this before. David is unconscious, hauled into a room by black-clad soldiers and dumped into a chair. There's a red table in front of him, and the place seems to be set up as a kind of police interview room. There's a man dressed as an officer, and office noises start up, adding to the illusion.

David wakes slowly, disoriented and confused. When he sees the officer, he instantly looks guilty, slumps in surrender. He must think the police have found him and he's going to be taken back to Clockworks.

Clark appears, and Walter. Cary tenses as the interview begins. It's a thinly-veiled attempt to provoke David into an emotional state that will trigger his powers. Clark toys with him, taking his time, gradually ramping the pressure up while David struggles mightily to stay calm and cooperate. David's powers leak out when he panics, making the pen jitter on the table, and when Clark pushes him too far, the pen flings itself into Clark's cheek.

That's when Walter grabs David and slams his head against the table.

It's a physical threat, and David couldn't protect himself. His eyes roll back as his posture and expression change, and then the room explodes with force, the table flipping and shattering, everyone but David flung away to crash against the walls. David stands at the center of the destruction, grinning darkly. And then the gas pours down and he falls.

"That's not David," Cary decides.

Ptonomy rewinds the footage, freezes on David's menacing smile. "I think we've just met Yellow."

"What?" Syd walks over, stares at the image of David.

Cary's not sure how much she heard, or how much she processed. She's taken all of this so hard. "We've been trying to identify any moments where David's alters may have been in control. We believe this is Yellow, trying to protect David when he was captured by Division 3."

Syd stares at the image, then takes a step back, shaking her head. "No. No, this is—" She's horrified but doesn't look away. "His true face."

"Syd?" Ptonomy calls, concerned.

"The one he hides," Syd says, and she's not herself, she's caught in something. "The monster." Then she turns away, her hand over her mouth. She's shaking.

Cary has never seen her like this. Syd is always so in control, so strong in herself, even if that strength can feel brittle to him. "Syd?" he calls, reaching out, but stopping himself because she can't be touched.

"I believed it," she says, distantly. "I believed everything that asshole wanted me to believe."

"Farouk?" Cary guesses. "What did he want you to believe?"

"That David was evil," Syd says, voice trembling. "And I believed it. Everything felt so clear, wrong and clear and—" She holds herself still, so utterly still. She's the opposite of David, whose wild emotions can overwhelm him and send him physically reeling.

"When was this?" Ptonomy asks. "In the desert?"

Cary knows some of what happened in the desert, but not enough. He knows David did something to Syd's mind. Maybe this is why he thought he had to. "Syd, what happened to you?"

Syd shakes her head. "He told me. He told me what he was doing to me and I still believed him. Why? Because that's what I wanted? How could I want that?"

"Syd," Cary says, at a loss. "Whatever he did to you, it wasn't your fault."

Syd looks away from them, and her eyes catch on the live feed. She looks back at the frozen image of David, of Yellow smiling with David's face. She looks back at David now, huddled on the bed, pale and swollen-eyed and so, so fragile.

"I did this to him," she says, distantly. "I thought— I wanted him to save the world. I wanted him to be a fighter. I showed him, over and over, how to hold on to his pain and use it, because that's—" She takes a tight breath, but her eyes are dry.

"You tried to help him?" Cary guesses.

"He was so—" Syd looks to them at last, begging them to understand. "He was always so— I thought— when he came back, with the monster gone, I thought he was ready to be strong."

"He wasn't," Ptonomy says, but kindly.

"I made him worse," Syd says, with quiet devastation. "The only thing that kept him going was love, and I told him love made him stupid and weak. And then I let Farouk take me away from him, and now there's nothing left to save him."

"This isn't your fault," Ptonomy says, firmly. "You were trying to help. You told him what works for you. Maybe it wasn't right for him, but a little bad advice is nothing compared to what Farouk did to him. It's not even a drop in the ocean that he's drowning in. Blaming yourself won't make him better."

"It wasn't love, what I did to him," she says, a few tears finally leaking out. "What if he's never coming back?"

Ptonomy says nothing.

"Syd," Cary tries, but can't find it in himself to lie and say that David will be okay. David might never be okay again.

"We're doing what he wants now," Syd continues. "Farouk. We're doing exactly what he wants, keeping David alive. We're torturing him."

"Syd, no," Cary says, alarmed. "You know that's not the answer."

"Isn't it?" she asks, desperate. "Sometimes it’s just too late. Sometimes there’s nothing left to save. My mother, she was brilliant and strong and a fighter but her cancer took everything. Every last inch, and in the end—" She closes her eyes tight, opens them again. "She begged me, just like David begged you. To let her die in peace. We didn't let her, and she died in so much pain. I did that to her, to my own mother."

"David isn't dying," Cary says, firmly.

"Isn't he?" Syd asks, on the edge of despair. "He was sick all this time and we let him suffer. Just like my mother. He's been sick for so long."

"So you wanna kill him too?" Kerry's there, suddenly, even angrier for what she's overheard.

The bluntness of her question startles Syd. "I—"

"You said you loved him. If you love someone, you don't give up on them even if they give up on themselves."

"Kerry," Cary warns, even though he's frankly impressed by her maturity. Sometimes he forgets that she's as old as he is; that for all her naivete about the world, she understands some things with the wisdom they've earned together.

"I'm not giving up on David even if everyone else does," Kerry declares. "I'm not gonna give up on him because he has to get better so he can apologize to me for being stupid."

"That's right," Ptonomy says, seizing on the opportunity to bring the situation back under control. "We're not giving up on David. Right now what he needs most is our patience and support. We can't give him that if we're busy tearing ourselves apart. That's what Farouk wants us to do. Don't let him torture us again. Okay?"

Ptonomy's Vermillion stares at Syd, pressing her for a response. Challenging her.

"Okay," Syd says, backing down, cooling off. Then she turns and leaves, walks out of the lab.

"Let her," Cary says, cautioning the others from following her. Syd has always been intensely private, the best thing they can do for her right now is let her lick her wounds.

She'll be back. None of them are going anywhere.

Kerry rolls her eyes at Syd's departure, but as she turns her eyes catch on the second monitor. She steps up to it and frowns at it, disturbed by the un-David-like smile on David's face.

"What if—" she asks, suddenly hesitant.

"Kerry?" Cary asks. For all her defiance, of course she has her doubts. Of course she does. She has no understanding of what's actually happening to David.

"Yellow and Green. What if we don't like them? What if they're bad?"

"They're not bad," Cary assures her.

"We don't know that," Kerry says. "Just because they say they're protecting David it doesn't mean they are. They could be lying. Tricking him to hurt him. They're sneaky, hiding like that."

"Like you hide?" Cary says, a little harshly. But he wants to put an end to this idea before it can grow.

Kerry does managed to look chastised, but she's not done. "I don't want some strangers taking him over."

"They're not strangers, they're David."

"You said they were other people," Kerry says, exasperated. "Both of you said that. I heard it."

"They are other people," Ptonomy explains. "But they're also David. They're not a threat to David because they are David. They're not some outside influence trying to take control of him."

"I don't understand," Kerry says.

"It's complicated," Cary admits. "The kind of situation David's dealing with, where he's forgotten these parts of himself, I don't know that it's ever happened before to anyone. David isn't just a person, he's a system. He's multiple people, each as truly a part of him as the other."

Kerry just looks at him, lost.

"What David has is different from you and Cary," Ptonomy explains to her. "The best way to understand it is from his perspective. He was a child, his identity still forming, and terrible things happened to him. So terrible that he couldn't accept that they were happening to him. So he decided that they weren't. His mind split between the him that was suffering, and the him that wasn't. It gave him a way to save some parts of himself from what he was experiencing, to gain control over a situation he had no control over."

Kerry takes this in. "So, like... he pretended he was someone else?"

"He wasn't pretending," Ptonomy says. "Any more than you're pretending to be Kerry instead of Cary. He is David, and he's also Green and Yellow."

"All at the same time?"

"The mind is very complicated," Ptonomy says. "We barely understand how healthy minds work, much less those like David's. How do you truly know your body is part of you? That you are in control of your own thoughts and actions? Most of it is an illusion. Our awareness of ourselves is just a thin layer over countless separate systems, conflicting and pushing against each other until somehow they agree. Our selves can seem very solid, but they're not. Things can go wrong, and sometimes there's no way to put them back the way they were."

"No," Kerry says, denying his words. They're too much for her to understand, much less accept.

"Kerry," Cary says, trying to soothe her. "The important thing to remember is that even though David's identities will always be separate, they are all him. They're how he was able to survive what Farouk did to him, to get him all the way to us so we can help him now."

"I don't want him to be someone else," Kerry says, her chin crumpling. "We just got him back and it's not fair that he has to be someone else."

She throws herself against Cary like she's trying to hide inside him, but she can't do that anymore. She cries out in frustration and thumps at Cary's chest, trying to force her way back in. Cary holds her and wishes that he could let her in. He wishes he could spare her this, like he's spared her from so much.

He holds her as long as she needs him to. He can still manage that much.

"Why don't you go get us something to eat?" he prompts her. "Pick whatever you like."

"Cream soda?" she says, wiping her eyes with the back of her wrist.

"Cream soda," Cary agrees.

Once she's gone, Cary sits down, emotionally exhausted. God, all of this is so hard. He's not used to this, to being the one everyone relies on. That was Melanie's job. He took her so much for granted.

He wishes she would wake up. But he's not sure what's left of her, either, now that Farouk is done with her. Maybe it's better that she sleeps.

"She's wrong, you know," Ptonomy says.

"Hm?"

"About David being someone else now," Ptonomy explains. "It’s possible for identities to die, even main members. That means if David had truly given up before, Green or Yellow or another alter would have taken over in his absence. David wouldn’t be David anymore. He would have a different identity, a different name. But that’s not what we’re dealing with. As painful as it is, even the fact that David wants to die means he’s still fighting. He wants to exist, to keep living. He just doesn’t know how."

"You're right," Cary says, grateful for the solace. For the hope, however slender, that David has the strength to make it through all of this. "Thank you. As you said, David is still David."

"That he is."

"And is Ptonomy still Ptonomy?" Cary asks.

"I don't know," Ptonomy admits, quietly. "But whatever I am, I exist. Maybe that's enough."

"If it's not, you'll tell me?" Cary doesn't want to let him slip away, like they let Melanie and Oliver and David slip away. There’s nothing easy or simple about what any of them have been through and will yet have to endure. But none of them has to endure it alone.

"I'll tell you," Ptonomy agrees.

Chapter 8: Day 3: Divad and Dvd and David. (David)

Chapter Text

David.

Divad and Dvd.

Divad and Dvd and David.

All evening he tries to remember them, his alters. They've been part of him for so long, surely there must be something Farouk didn't take away, some scrap of memory overlooked until—

But there's nothing. There's nothing. He goes over the same old memories again, the way he has countless times, trying to sew together the scraps into something that will hold together, something that he can look back on and recognize as himself.

He can't remember Benny either, even though he knows that Lenny wasn't ever a part of his life before he met her in Clockworks. He's known for weeks but the memories of Benny are still gone. They're lacunas, dotting the galaxies of his mind like tiny black holes, information going in but never coming back out again. Destroyed, even though the laws of physics say that no information is ever truly destroyed.

He is here to tell the laws of physics that they are very, very wrong.

Divad and Dvd are mostly quiet, still giving him time to adjust and recover. But he can sense them, the closeness of their presence within him. They don't leave him again, not like before.

It helps. His heart is as raw as his eyes, his throat, but it helps, feeling them. Not being alone.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, when he's finally getting too tired to try to remember them anymore, when sleep is pulling at him down at last. "I wish I could—"

"It's okay," Divad says. "It wasn't your fault. There was nothing you could do."

A few more tears leak out of David's eyes and he doesn't know how. He's cried all day and he keeps thinking he's done but somehow there's still more tears inside him. The well of grief in his chest must be bottomless, filling and filling no matter how much pours out of him. He doesn't want to be sad anymore but he doesn't know how to stop.

He keeps going back over Cary's words to him, turning them into a kind of mantra, something to hold on to, to help keep him going through all of this. Through whatever transformation he'll have to endure.

He's survived. There are things he's lost that he'll never get back. But he's here and he's not alone. And if he lets someone help him, one day he'll be well enough to help himself.

He holds the words close to his heart, pulling on the strength of them, trying to make it his own.

§

Kerry doesn't come back in the morning. David must have scared her, hurt her badly, and he's sorry for that. He didn't mean to. He just couldn't—

He couldn't. He'd been pushed so far beyond his ability to deal with anything that's been happening that he got lost, so, so lost. He wishes he had a window just so he could see the sun rise, so he could see the new day begin. The dawn has always made him feel like he has the chance to start again, no matter how dark the night before had been. But he's still in a prison cell, a sub-basement dungeon. That's still where he belongs.

"David," warns Divad, concerned but trying not to push.

"I know," David says, stepping back from the mental cliff he'd nearly strolled right off of. It's strange: having someone hear his thoughts, watching for bad ones as they arrive. Was this how it worked for them before? Was this how Divad used to help him before Farouk took him away from them, and them away from him?

He doesn't know. And it's been so long for all of them, so long since the body of David Haller had anything resembling any kind of healthy mind inside of it. This isn't just new for him, he's realizing. This is going to be new for all of them.

Ptonomy arrives with breakfast. Waffles, of course, but also eggs and bacon and hash browns and a sliced orange. David eats everything, barely able to keep up with his own hunger; his body is starving for energy.

"You're looking much better this morning," Ptonomy says, the Vermillion's speaker making him cheerfully sing.

David heaves a sigh. "Yeah. I feel..." He doesn't know what word to use. "Better." That's good enough. He burps, and covers his mouth. "Sorry."

Ptonomy laughs, which is weird because the Vermillion doesn't. It moves its lips, synchronized with the speaker, but no one would call that a laugh.

David takes a moment to remind himself that as bad as his situation is, it really could be worse. At least he still has his body, he's still alive inside it, even if he's sharing it with two veritable strangers. When Ptonomy had first returned, showing up in a hacked Vermillion in the cafeteria, David was confused and bewildered and then— And then nothing else had mattered but the name. La Désolé. There was no room in his head then for anything but Farouk and revenge. He was consumed, boiling with it day and night ever since Amy—

He's been lost for a while, he thinks. So, so lost, since long before he started wandering in the desert.

"So, um— What's it like? In— In the mainframe?" David glances away, ashamed for not asking sooner. "Sorry I didn’t— things have been— I know, it’s no— it’s no excuse. You’re— I mean, you died, I’m just—"

David swallows. He reaches out in his mind, and Divad is there, right there.

"It's okay," Ptonomy tells him, then pauses, thinking. "I'm not sure, honestly. I'm still getting used to it. I’m still myself here, or at least I think I am. I feel calmer. Less angry about things that used to feel important. Maybe it was my body making me angry.”

That sounds... David doesn't know what it sounds like. "Is it— is it nice?"

"It’s busy. There's so much information flowing all the time, from so many places. It’s a lot like memory walking, but bigger, wider. It's like I'm walking through the whole world at once, and I don't have to take a step."

Oh. "Do you need to, uh— Should you be doing something else? Right now? With all the—"

The Vermillion's eyes hadn't exactly gone distant, but now they focus on him. "Not at all. This is exactly where I need to be. I see you did your homework. Can you show me?"

David had been fidgeting with the cards on and off all through breakfast. He picks them up again and lays them out on the bed, in the same order as they were made.

Divad. Dvd. David.

"All variations on your name," Ptonomy observes. "Interesting."

"Is that— Is that bad?"

"Not at all. Every system is unique to its members and their needs. So tell me about them, Divad and Dvd. Which one's which?"

David feels kinda funny about calling them after their shirt colors now. "Divad is Green. Dvd is Yellow."

"And you've been talking to them again?"

"A little," David admits. "They're being very—" What's the right word? Not shy. "Cautious."

Ptonomy hums. "Yesterday, you said there was shouting? Do you want to talk about that?"

Not really, but David's given up on not talking about things he doesn't want to talk about. "He— he hurt them. Farouk. I don't know— what he did, exactly, but—" He takes a breath. "I think it was hard for them. Watching me—" He takes another breath, another. He's so tired of crying, he just wants to make it through the morning without crying and he knows he won't.

"That makes sense," Ptonomy says, all soothing, musical tones. "It's hard watching someone you care about suffer."

"I tried," David says, eyes welling up just as he knew they would. "I tried to remember them. I tried. I wish you could still—" He swallows a sob. "Maybe if you could still go inside, you could have found something." He closes his eyes, breathes deep, fighting the tightness in his throat. "He took that too."

David picks up his card. He holds it in his hands. David is still David. He's still here. He survived. There are things he's lost that he'll never get back. But he's here and he's not alone.

"We're here," Divad says, soft and close.

"We're both here," Dvd says.

David picks up the other two cards and holds them tightly, all three together, perfectly lined up. Even though he's been wearing away the edges of the paper, when they're pressed together this way it's like they're still a whole, something complete and uncleaved. It must be nice, to be whole. It must be so wonderful.

"Yes," Ptonomy says, his therapist demeanor dropping. "He took a lot from all of us. And that's why we can't let him take you, David. Do you understand? We all need you to stay with us and keep fighting."

"I know," David says.

"Do you?" Ptonomy challenges. "I don't think you do, not yet."

David breaths out a huff, amused even though he knows he shouldn't be. "It's been a while since you yelled at me."

"Well, you've always been good at pissing me off," Ptonomy says, in that friendly, furious way of his, and it feels good to hear it. To remember that he's been other things than pain and grief and guilt.

"Yeah, well, you lost your body, something's gotta keep you angry." David manages a smile, and the tight clench in his chest releases. Relief washes through him. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Ptonomy says, and David knows he means it.

David takes a beat, drinks some water. Blows his nose. When he's ready, he nods.

"Let's talk about the cards," Ptonomy says, switching back into therapist mode. "It must have taken a lot of courage to do that. To reach out to Divad and Dvd, to let them share your body."

"I guess— it's their body, too, right?" David says, as lightly as he can. "I don't want to— I know what it's like, being— trapped. In myself. Watching. They're not— They don't deserve that."

Ptonomy pauses. "Do you want to talk about that? What it's like?"

He doesn't, god he doesn't. But something stops him from saying no. "Syd, she—" It hurts to say her name, but he plows on. "In the desert. She— she said that I liked— When I went to save Amy from Division 3—" He's shaking but he can't stop now. "I didn't want to go alone, I didn't want to hurt anyone, I just— She— He twisted everything up inside me and then we were there and he used me and— And I couldn't— I screamed and I screamed and I—"

"David," Ptonomy says, urgent.

"I didn't like it, okay?" David shouts, too loud but he can't— "He made me, he made me, why couldn't she understand that? Son of Sam?! She knows what he is and she still fired a gun at my head!"

Now he stops. He wraps his arms around his knees, feeling like a bomb just exploded out of him, unexpected and shattering. He's shaking again, breathing too fast, and he knows if the crown wasn't on, his powers would be exploding out of him like they had that day in the kitchen, like they do when he has nightmares and panic attacks. But nothing in the room is shaking but him.

"I'm sorry," David breathes, closing his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"David," says Ptonomy, soberly. "What happened in the desert?"

"You know," David moans. Everyone knows what he did.

"We know parts of it. And us not having the whole story is a big part of what's hurting you right now. So I think we need to talk about this. Can you do it?"

He doesn't know. He doesn't know. It's so much. But he can't keep it inside now that he's started. "I’ll try," he says.

"Take a moment. Catch your breath. Drink some water."

David does. He can do this. He has to do this.

"Tell me what happened," Ptonomy prompts. "Start from the beginning, from when I found you in the cafeteria. We met and you rushed off and then?"

"The lab," David says, closing his eyes to center himself in his memory. His memories of the past two weeks are shockingly clear compared to all the rest, created with his mind free of interference. But in some ways that makes them harder to face. "I went to the lab to use the amplification chamber. We found the desert. I— We knew we needed a plan. So we made one."

"You and your alters."

"We couldn't tell anyone," David says, remembering. "But we knew— we could see that we'd need help. So we left messages. Time delayed, so there'd be nothing for Farouk to know until it was too late."

"Smart," Ptonomy says.

David smiles briefly. "We could see flashes, pieces of time. We knew things would go wrong so we made the plan better. Then we left." He frowns. "But the desert was... strange. Confusing. Everything shifted and changed. The monastery, where Farouk's body was kept, it wouldn't stay put. We didn't know what to do."

"And then Syd came after you, right?"

"I left a note, but..." David shrugs. "She was mad. Kicked me in the shin."

"A note, not a message?"

David opens his eyes.

"You didn't include her in the plan?"

"No," David says. He still feels ashamed about this part, and angry. "I was mad at her. Not her her, her from the future."

"Why?"

"Because she knew," David says, and it hurts. It hurts so much. "She knew about Amy and she didn't— She chose to let my sister, to let her—" He takes a breath. "If she'd warned me, I could have stopped it. I could have saved Amy and Ben and—" He shakes his head. "I know it wasn't her, it wasn't Syd now. But—"

"You couldn't help how you felt."

"I had to stop Farouk," David says, remembering how by the end that was the only thing that mattered. The only path left to him after wandering in confusion through a maze of choices. "Syd didn't want to. Or maybe she did, but—"

In the end, she wanted to stop David more. With a bullet to the head. They hadn't seen that when they saw the glimpses of the future in the amplification chamber. It was only sheer dumb luck that Lenny saved his life.

Syd almost killed him. She really tried to kill him.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, bringing him back. "So she found you, you got a kick. Then what?"

David closes his eyes again, centering himself back in the memory. "We wandered around, me and Syd, trying to find the monastery, but it kept moving. Then there was a storm, and a tent, so we went inside. And we were there, us from the future, or some future, I don't know. We were dead, skeletons. It was— I don't know. Syd said— she didn't think we were going to have a happy ending." He pauses. "In the morning she was gone."

"Down into the labyrinth."

"I didn't know," David says. "I looked everywhere, and then I finally reached the monastery. I went inside and—" God, this. "Oliver was there." He feels ill.

"It was a trap," Ptonomy says.

"I know," David says, hugging his knees. "But I was so— I had to find Syd, he had her and I couldn't— He said things, Farouk things, dared me to— I was just so angry. I was so angry about everything he'd done to me and Amy and I finally had him, I finally made him feel just a fraction, just the smallest taste of the pain and suffering that he made me feel for thirty years."

God, it had felt so good. It was awful and horrifying and it felt so good. And then it was ashes in his mouth, because it was a trick and he'd just tortured Oliver nearly to death.

He puts his head down on his knees. Then what happened? It's hazy after that. He felt sick, his whole body hot and sick and he— He stumbled outside and then— He can't—

"David went away for a while," says David's mouth, as his head picks itself up. "I had to take over."

Ptonomy's Vermillion, already in perfect posture, somehow manages to straighten further. "Please hold the card with your name on it."

David's hand picks through the cards and holds one. Divad.

"Has that happened often?" Ptonomy asks. "Things become too much for David, so you take over?"

"It's my job to protect him," Divad says, with David's mouth. "I used to protect him a lot, back when I could. So yes, I took over until he was able to return. I'm sorry, David, I didn't mean to startle you."

And then just like that, David's back in control. His heart is racing. Shit, shit.

"Good one," grumbles Dvd's voice. "He just said he doesn't like that. Stop upsetting him!"

"David wasn't there for that part," Divad's voice defends.

"He doesn't remember how we used to work," Dvd says. "You can't just step in like that."

"You step in all the time," Divad says, annoyed. "It's not different just because our life is in danger."

"That's exactly why it's different!" Dvd says.

"David?" Ptonomy says, concerned. "What's going on?"

"Please stop arguing," David pleads. God, they're stressing him out more, not less.

Divad and Dvd fall quiet. "Sorry," Divad mumbles.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts again. "Stay with me."

"I'm here," David says, and drops the Divad card, fumbles for his own. He grabs it so hard that he crumples it, and panic spikes in his chest. He smooths it out but it's broken, it's ruined.

"It's just a card," Ptonomy says, gently.

The Vermillion's hand reaches out and covers David's hand. It's cool to the touch, smooth and artificial. David suddenly misses Kerry.

It's just a card. It's just a card.

"What Divad did surprised you," Ptonomy observes. "Is that the first time you've been aware of him taking over like that?"

”Yes," David's still catching his breath. "Dvd said he— But I don't remember." They're not Farouk, they're not parasites, they're not trying to hurt him.

"David," says Divad's voice, regretful.

"Please don't—" David tells him. He can't talk to him, not after that. Not for a while. That was— It was awful.

"See?" Dvd sneers.

"You're not any better," David says, angrily. "I don't care if you're saving my life. I don't care. I need— You can't just—" They can't just take him over like he's a puppet anytime they like, on a whim, like he's nothing. If they do they're no better than Farouk.

"You said it was our body, too," Dvd says, defensively.

"Now's not the time," Divad hushes him.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts again.

"I think I need a break," David says.

"I think you're right," Ptonomy agrees, but doesn't leave.

David gets off the bed and walks around, pacing to settle himself. He gets a drink of water, splashes water on his face. He breathes. Breathing is always good. Slow, deep breaths. Calm. He's calm.

He leans back against the wall and winces as he bumps the edge of the crown. He leans forward, grimacing as pain shoots through his skull.

"Can you please take this thing off?" David pleads, angrily.

"I wish we could, but it's a condition of your therapy," Ptonomy says. "The Admiral won't risk you—"

"Ending the world, yeah yeah," David finishes, really done with that whole thing. "Why would I end the world? The only thing I want to end is Amahl Farouk." And himself, he wants to add, but doesn't. He doesn't want to as much as he did, anyway. He's a lot less sad and a lot more angry now. God, this whole thing, with Oliver and Syd and—

"Come sit back down," Ptonomy says. It's not an order but it's more than a suggestion.

David heads to the bed, then turns away. He can't. He's too stirred up, there's too much in his head. In every sense.

It's obvious that Ptonomy doesn't want to risk leaving him alone. David knows he's in a bad state, but he's run out of coping mechanisms and he doesn't know how to stop. In Clockworks, even before that, by the time he got this bad he would have already been involuntarily drugged into a stupor by the nearest medical professional, or tackled by cops who'd decided he was a danger, which he usually was. Without the drugs, without the crown, he would have already trashed everything around him. Without the crown he would have had an outlet, even if it was a destructive one he couldn't control.

God, what if this is what causes it? What if he just can’t stop himself? What if it’s as simple as that and he kills the world because he doesn’t know how to stop?

"Can you—" David says, voice tight as he paces helplessly. "Can you help me?" He's not used to asking for help, not with this. He's always managed on his own. Or at least he thought he did.

"Who are you asking?" Ptonomy asks, and it's a good question.

"Anyone." David's still angry but he's desperate enough that he doesn't care. He hates losing control of himself to other people but it's even worse when he loses control of himself to himself. It's so stupid, it doesn't even make sense.

"Do you want to go away?" Divad asks.

"No," David says, horrified by the idea. "Just— just make it stop."

And then just like that, it stops. The shaking, the tension, the buildup of emotions threatening to explode. They’re not erased, he doesn't lose anything he's feeling, but all the strength falls out of them at once and the pressure’s gone.

It's so sudden he falls to the floor.

"David!" Ptonomy rushes over, as much as a Vermillion can rush. He kneels in front of David. "What just happened?"

David stares. "It stopped. He made it stop.”

"Show-off,” grumbles Dvd’s voice.

Someone walks up to Ptonomy and kneels down beside him. It’s himself— It’s Divad, in his green shirt. He’s smiling. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that.”

Chapter 9: Day 3: David. David. David. David. David. (David)

Chapter Text

David. David. David. David. David.

David writes his name over and over. Slowly, deliberately. Cursive, lowercase, all capital letters. Ornate, with little flowers growing out of it, like an illuminated manuscript.

"Don't you think you're being ridiculous about this?" Divad says, sitting on the bed, his arms crossed.

"Nope," David says, and keeps writing. Ptonomy left him with a notebook and a pen to put his thoughts down, and right now David has one thought, so that's what he's putting down. He's sitting in the chair, his feet resting on the edge of the mattress, the notebook propped against his thighs.

Dvd is visible, too, but he said that as tempting as it was, he had better things to do than listen to Divad grovel. He's been floating in the corner, sitting silent in a meditation pose for a while now, trying to use their power to break the crown. David's starting to think he'll never manage it. Whatever Farouk did to get out of his, he obviously made sure David — or any other part of him — wouldn't be able to do the same thing himself.

In a way, David almost admires the efficiency of the trap Farouk lured him into. Push him until he snapped, then make everyone believe that snapping was proof he was evil. Maybe even use all of that to make him evil, if he could manage it. David writes his name with little horns coming out of the big D. He draws a pointed tail coming out of the little d. Then he crosses it out angrily and flips to a clean page.

He starts over. David. David. David. David. David.

When Farouk's first trap failed to pay off, he set up another, just as efficient. David wants to kill himself, so Farouk has forced him to live, knowing that will be perhaps his greatest torture yet. David doesn't know, because he's forgotten most of the actual things Farouk did to him over his entire life. All he really remembers is the fear. That's the scar tissue Farouk left behind for him to keep. Layers and layers of it, piled up over the decades, all different flavors. The ultimate shit sandwich, served to him three times a day, every single day. He'll never get the taste out of his mouth.

David writes his name in sharp, angular letters, like nordic runes. He draws his name made out of little pointy knives. He draws a stick figure Farouk being stabbed through the head, with x-shaped eyes and a lolling tongue.

He furiously scratches out the stick figure. Then he rips out the page, crumples it into a tiny ball, and throws it at Divad.

"Hey!" Divad says, as the ball sails through him and bounces across the floor.

David starts over. David. David. David. David. David.

"You know, that really makes you look like a crazy person," Divad says.

"I am a crazy person," David replies, and keeps writing. "I'm three crazy people."

Divad opens his mouth, like he's about to argue against that, then shrugs. "True."

David glares at him and keeps writing. He switches back to careful cursive. He hasn't written in cursive for years. He suddenly remembers Amy helping him write out all the letters on wide-lined paper, guiding his hand through the loops.

A bubble of grief catches in his throat and pops.

Divad sobers, leans towards him. "David—"

"No," David says, firmly. It's his grief for his sister. He's going to feel it, no matter how awful it is, no matter how much it hurts. It's his and he's going to feel it.

Divad gets annoyed again. "You know, you asked for my help. You can't get mad at me because I helped you when you asked for it."

"I absolutely can," David says. He switches back to all capitals, writing his name with smooth, even lines. DAVID. DAVID. DAVID. DAVID. DAVID. A silent shout of defiance to everything and everyone trying to erase him.

"I don't want to erase you," Divad insists. "That's the last thing I want, okay? I'm supposed to—"

"Protect me, yes, I know," David says. "You've done a great job, thanks so much."

In the corner, Dvd snorts.

"Don't you start," Divad grumbles at Dvd, then turns back to David. "Yeah, I failed. We both failed. And we feel like shit about it, thanks so much."

David keeps writing. It's very meditative, writing his name like this, over and over. Filling up the pages one by one. He's always looking for new ways to steady his emotions, to calm himself. He should have started doing this years ago. It wouldn't have made a single blessed bit of difference, but at least it would've been a hobby. There wasn't much to do in Clockworks besides watch other people drooling when he wasn't drooling himself.

Divad gets off the bed, tired of being ignored. He paces around the room, walking in steady, narrow circles, keeping to the space between Dvd and David.

"Look, you're feeling better, right?" Divad says, from across the bed. "Your head's clear, you can actually think about what's happened without going into another panic attack."

"Yes," David agrees, though he hasn't been too keen to test that theory. What he does know is that for the first time in a very long time, maybe ever, he doesn't feel like he has to screw his eyes shut and run full tilt just to get through whatever's happening to him. He can just sit and write his name and recognize the burning, toxic disaster that is his life, and it's fine. It's fine.

Closing his eyes and running full tilt only made him crash into everything anyway.

Divad heaves a sigh, deep and deeply felt. David swears he can actually feel him fighting the urge to say 'I told you so.' Maybe he can. Divad and Dvd can hear his thoughts, there no reason why David shouldn't be able to hear theirs in return.

"You can't," Divad says.

"Why not?"

"Because protecting you from bad thoughts is the whole reason I'm here. If you know what I know, you'll know, so what's the point in having me?"

David stops writing so he can rub at his face. "That's—" He thinks about it. "Okay, that makes sense." He thinks about it some more. "So let me think about the bad thoughts. I'll be fine."

Dvd snorts again.

Divad stares at David with great feeling.

"Shit," David sighs. "Okay, fine, I need you. But I'm still mad." He starts writing again, all lowercase. Childish. Maybe he has a right to be childish, when he lost his childhood to a monster. Lost his sanity, lost his mind, lost everything that Farouk could possibly make him lose. His bag of marbles strewn to the wind, tossed at random across the entire ocean, plop plop plop, never to be found again.

"Careful," Divad warns.

"Don't 'careful' me," David says, grouchily. "You wanted me to think clearly? I'm thinking clearly. I see exactly how inescapably fucked I am. That's what you wanted, right? No illusions. Just cold, hard reality."

The cold, hard reality is that it doesn't matter if he strolls off a mental cliff, if he plunges back into despair. None of it matters because he's still as trapped as he's been since the day Farouk burrowed into his head when he was a baby.

God, he is so inescapably fucked.

He flips to a clean page and starts again. David. David. David. David. David. Perfectly neat, the way his life will never, ever be.

"You know, you don't make it easy," Divad says. "I'm not saying any of this is your fault, but you sure as hell don't make it easy."

Dvd cracks open an eye. He clears his throat.

"You know," David says back, philosophically, "it's really saying something when the alter that's supposed to protect my body is the one protecting my mind from the alter that's supposed to protect my mind."

"We've had to adapt to a lot," Dvd says. "That shit beetle worked us over too, you know. He loved it when you made us. Three victims for the price of one. It gave him whole new ways to fuck with us. New colors to paint our screams."

David stops writing. Maybe, maybe... Maybe there are worse things than forgetting.

Dvd and Divad both stare at him with great feeling.

David brings his feet down to the floor and puts the notepad on the bed. "I'm sorry."

Shit. This is his fault, what they've suffered trying to protect him. He made them and trapped them in his head with him. They were tortured because of him. Shit.

"I'm sorry," David says again, tearing up. God, he can't even stop hurting people inside his own head. He should never have tried to survive what Farouk did to him. He should have given up and died the moment Farouk dug his claws in so deep they'd never come out again, whether he's physically inside of him or not. That's all David's doing now: hurting his alters, hurting his friends, making them suffer with him. He's so fucking selfish.

Divad and Dvd are suddenly close, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Okay, let's bring that all back a step," Divad says, worried. "We're you, remember? We're just parts of you. Farouk was gonna hurt you no matter what, so all you did was try to save us. To save something from the monster. You could have gone away and left us to deal with him but that's not what you did. You stayed. You fought him with everything you had. It just wasn't enough."

"That's not selfish, man," says Dvd. "That's the opposite of selfish. Stop beating yourself up because that's exactly what he wants you to do. He's probably watching all of this right now and shoving his hand down his pants because he gets off on your tears."

David recoils. "Oh, that's—! That's disgusting!" Ugh, now he really does need to forget something. Or pour bleach into his brain. He shudders.

Dvd puts up both middle fingers and points them at the ceiling, to where Farouk must be watching them from up above. Divad does the same.

"Come on," Dvd urges.

Talk about childish. But David puts up his middle fingers all the same. Divad and Dvd smile at him, and David can't help but smile back.

The door opens and Kerry walks in. She stares at his raised hands and he quickly puts them down, tucks them under his thighs.

”You hungry?" Kerry asks. She's carrying a tray, and David realizes it must be time for lunch. It's hard to keep track of time without any clocks or natural light.

"Ah, yeah, sure," David says. Divad and Dvd shift to make room as Kerry sits down on the bed and starts uncovering the dishes. Her hand pauses as she notices the notebook, and the litany of Davids written across the open page.

David feels the urge to curl up under the bed and die for a while, at least until his face stops burning. He really does look like a crazy person. But then that cat is well and truly out of the bag at this point. His lengthy conversation with himself must have been very entertaining for his audiences, however many he has by now. His friends; Farouk; the entirety of Division 3's command and control structure; international officials and government leaders; future historians of mutants and mental illness, assuming he never gets around to ending the world. God, he's not a mental patient, he's a zoo animal, a public exhibition.

All of this was a lot less of a problem for him when he was trapped in a multi-day panic attack and suicide attempt. Maybe he should go back. It'll be a vacation.

"Or don't," Divad mutters.

David glares at him, then looks down at his knees. He should just keep looking at his knees from now on. He won't have any embarrassing public conversations with his knees.

"So, um," Kerry says. Even she can't miss the painful awkwardness that's come over him. "Ptonomy says you're feeling better."

"You don't have to pretend you haven't seen everything," David says, sparing her.

Kerry lets out a relieved breath. "Yeah, everyone's watching from the lab."

"Great," David says, weakly. Now he has a whole new reason to kill himself. He won't be able to face anyone ever again. What's his best option? Self-immolation seems emotionally resonant. Or maybe something fast, to bring a quick end to this ongoing humiliation. Like a guillotine.

Bad thoughts. He doesn't need Divad to warn him about wandering at the edge of that particular cliff. He needs to move on to something else.

"I wasn't sure you'd come back," he admits.

There's a flash of hesitation on Kerry's face. She's a terrible liar, even worse than him. But she puts on a stubborn look. "Of course I was gonna come back. You still have to apologize to me. For being stupid."

David thinks back through the haze of panic and terror he was gripped in for the past few days. He's not sure what specifically she needs him to apologize for. Maybe for being a flaming wreck of a human being and getting everyone who gets close to him burnt. Probably that. "I'm sorry for being stupid," he says, and means it.

“Good,” Kerry says, satisfied. And apparently that’s that.

She really is a remarkable person.

“So you’re feeling better?” she prompts again, as she hands him his plate.

Lunch is beef teriyaki with sticky rice and bento-style vegetables. The carrot slices are carved into smiling suns and the radishes have cheerful faces. David would wonder if that was meant to cheer him up specifically, but the cafeteria staff are reliably whimsical. He starts eating. It’s good.

“Yeah, um.” He swallows, pokes at the rice. “Divad, um, Green?” He’s not sure if everyone is caught up on the name situation yet. They probably are, if they've seen and heard everything. “His thing is helping me with—“ He waves his fork in the general vicinity of his brain. “Avoiding dangerous thoughts, helping me manage my emotions so I don’t get, um, like before.”

“Wow,” Kerry says, genuinely impressed. “He can just do that?”

“Apparently,” David says. “I guess... If my mind was working the way it was supposed to, I’d be able to do it myself. But, you know.” He whirls the fork next to his ear, to indicate that he’s, well.

Sick.

He frowns and forces himself to eat another piece of teriyaki.

He knows he should be grateful that Divad is able to help him. He is grateful. He doesn’t want to be unable to manage his own emotions. But the fact is that he can’t. Maybe the cumulative David Haller system can, but David the member of it is too completely fucked in the head to function like a normal human being. He's always struggled so hard to be in control of himself and he's always failed. He needs a whole other identity to do that for him, and in doing so remind him why he’s stuck down here in the first place.

Because he’s not normal. He’ll never be normal. He never even had a chance at normal. Which means... which means a lot of things, none of them good.

Divad sighs.

“I know, I know,” David sighs back. “Sorry, Divad’s—“ He points his fork to her left.

Kerry stares where he’s pointing. It’s just empty space to her, of course. She frowns and turns back to him. “Does that mean you were having a dangerous thought just now?”

David shrugs. “Most of my thoughts aren’t exactly safe,” he admits, and musters a brittle smile. “That’s why I’m here. A danger to myself and others.”

“You’re here so you can get better,” Kerry says.

David isn’t in the mood to pretend. “I’m here until they can figure out what to do with me. Or until the shit beetle gets bored and decides to play a new game.”

Kerry snorts. “The what?”

“The shit beetle. That’s Dvd’s nickname for Farouk. Like a— Like a scarab? Because he’s from Egypt. He’s been using it for a while, it’s starting to stick.”

“Can I meet him?” Kerry asks.

“Who, Farouk?”

“No, stupid. Dvd. I wanna meet him.” Kerry gives an indifferent shrug. “I mean, he can’t be all bad if he says stuff like that.”

Dvd looks at Kerry. David doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dvd curious about anyone before, beyond their status as a potential threat to David’s survival.

“I’m not sure that’s—“ David begins.

“Aw, c’mon,” Kerry pleads. “I wanna meet both of them.”

Now all three of them are looking at David expectantly. “No,” he says, firmly. “No, this— I’m— I’m not comfortable with—“

“It’ll be good for us,” Dvd declares, eager now. “This crown’s being a real pain. Lemme stretch our legs.”

“It won’t be like before,” Divad promises. “No surprises. I’ll make sure things stay nice and calm. Besides, I think we all know you need to sit back and take a break.”

David puts his face in his hands. This isn’t happening. He’s not facing a rebellion in his own body.

“Our body,” Dvd reminds him.

“He’s right,” Divad agrees.

“I am extremely not comfortable with this,” David insists. This morning was enough of a shock. He doesn’t need another.

When he looks up, he has three disappointed faces staring at him.

Kerry has her arms crossed. “How am I supposed to decide if I like them or not if I can’t look them in the eye when I interrogate them?”

Dvd blinks. “What?”

Divad laughs. “Oh, I like her. Come on, David, do you really want to stand in the way of this meeting of the minds?”

Without Divad's help, David knows he would already be having another panic attack. He can feel the edge of it, the shape of it, but it's blunted and far away. His pulse is a little fast but his heart isn't trying to race out of his chest. He knows he should be scared but he mostly isn't. Nervous, worried, but not scared.

He takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out slowly.

"You're okay," Divad soothes. "I promise, it'll be fine. We used to do this all the time. We shared. You liked sharing."

"I don't want to— I don't want to go away," David says. Whatever happened in the desert, after Oliver. He doesn't want to do that.

"No one's going away," Divad says. "If you want, you can stay where you are and we'll be in there with you. Like when we wrote our names, and when I talked to Ptonomy. But— I think it'll be easier for you if you step out."

"That's not going away?" David asks.

Divad leans forward, closing the space between them. "You only go away when things are too much for you. Really, really too much. This is just... it's like astral projecting."

Astral projecting. He's used to that. Sometimes he's felt like he's spent more time outside of his body than in it, these past weeks.

He does need to take a break. Maybe they're right, maybe this will be good for them.

"Okay," he says. He puts the plate down on the floor, rubs his palms against his legs. "Okay, what do I do?"

Divad reaches out to him. "Take my hand."

"But you're not real."

"Take it anyway."

David closes his eyes, breathes, breathes. He can do this. It's just like astral projecting. He knows how to do this.

He opens his eyes without opening his eyes, and reaches for Divad while his hand remains limp in his lap. Divad's hand grasps his, real and solid, and helps him onto the bed.

David reaches up and touches his head. The crown is gone. He knows it's still there, on his actual head, but like the panic attack his sense of it is blunted and far away. The crown is gone and so is the low, constant, intrusive pain. He hadn't even realized how much it was taking out of him until now. His eyes well up with relief.

Divad wraps an arm around his shoulder. "See? Just sit back, relax. Let someone else do the work for a while."

In the chair, David's body opens its eyes. "Hi," Dvd says, and grins.

Chapter 10: Day 3: Weird and creepy. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

Everyone is sad. They're so sad all the time, and Kerry hates it.

Kerry doesn't do sad. When she gets upset, she punches things until she feels better. She's punched a lot of things since yesterday and it helped, mostly. But everyone hanging around the lab and watching David and being sad makes her upset all over again.

Even Clark was sad when he visited, and after what he did yesterday, Kerry wasn't sure he was even capable of feeling sad about David. He didn't actually apologize or anything, but he asked if there was anything he could do to help, any resources Division 3 could give them to speed David's recovery along. Cary politely but firmly told him thank you, but no, they already have everything they need.

Kerry hopes he's right.

When David woke up late yesterday afternoon, she hoped that he would start getting better right away. But mostly he cried and talked to himself a little and cried some more, which made Syd and Cary cry, which made Kerry need to go away and punch things again.

Her fists are actually getting sore. She'll have to switch to kicking things if David doesn't get his butt moving and get better fast.

David's session with Ptonomy this morning was... confusing. He seemed better, but then he got so upset, the most upset she's ever seen him maybe, even worse than when he was trying to hurt himself. He talked about Syd trying to shoot him, which was news to Kerry. Nobody tells her anything, they just assume she knows stuff because they tell Cary everything. She didn't always, even when she was resting inside him, and now she's never inside him anymore so she definitely doesn't know all the things he hears.

She was glad she got to hear about what happened in the desert from David, even if he wasn't telling her about it directly. She's glad that his stupid plan actually ended up making sense. It was probably only any good because his alters helped him make it, because even though he's super powerful, David's always been kinda useless. They tried to save him when he was on the run from Clockworks but he hid from them, so they had to rescue him from Division 3, and then he kept messing up the memory walks and the MRI, and then they had to rescue him again, and then they had to rescue him again, and then he got snatched and only turned up after a whole year, and he couldn't remember anything.

Useless.

So yeah, that whole desert plan was obviously the work of Green and Yellow — no, Divad and Dvd. Kerry's already decided they're the brains of David's system, the way Cary’s the brains of hers.

When Divad took David over, everyone in the lab gasped, even her. He apologized but he scared David as much as he scared everyone else. And then Syd and Cary were freaking out and David was freaking out more than everyone combined, pacing around like he was about to explode.

And then he fell down, and suddenly he was okay.

Well, not okay. He was talking to himself and angry and really upset, still. But he wasn't trying to climb the walls anymore. He sat down and talked to Ptonomy some more, and then Ptonomy gave him a notebook and a pen and told him to rest, and that if David was feeling up to it they would pick things up again after lunch.

Since then, all David's done is write in the notebook and argue with himself. Cary seems relieved about how things went but Syd looks like she’s going to fall down herself. Kerry hopes it's because she feels bad for trying to kill David. It’s bad enough that she wants to kill him because he's sick; now it turns out she already tried to shoot him because she thought he was evil.

David's not evil. That's stupid. He's too useless to be evil.

Divad and Dvd, though... They might still be evil, even if they are just parts of David. They're not useless, anyway. Divad was pretty rude, scaring David like that, taking over without warning him. And all they know for sure about Dvd is that he blew up the fake interview room in Division 3 and really enjoyed doing it. So neither of them are looking great right now. It's no wonder David's mad at them.

Kerry's mad at them, too. She'd march right down there and punch Divad in the face if it didn't also mean punching David in the face. And she's not going to punch David. He's already crying all the time. She's not going to give him something else to be sad about.

Which means she should probably stop avoiding him.

Before Ptonomy left, David asked Ptonomy where she was, and Ptonomy had to lie and say she was busy helping Cary with Melanie and Oliver. Even through the monitor Kerry saw him flinch and look sadder. She knows that David feels bad about Oliver, but she doesn't think it's only that.

It's just...

Syd's known David the longest out of all of them. She knew David for a whole year in Clockworks. But Syd didn't know about any of this. David didn't even know about any of this, and this alter thing has been happening to him his whole life.

Even if Divad and Dvd are just other parts of David, they're still strangers. It creeps her out, thinking that they've been inside him all this time and no one knew. Even if they wanted David to know and Farouk stopped them, it's weird and creepy. No one seems to know what to do about them, and it's their fault that no one knows what to do about David.

Maybe Syd's right. Maybe he's never going to be the David they knew, not ever again. But if Kerry lets herself think about that, it hurts so much that even punching things doesn't help.

She's not gonna give up. She's not gonna be a coward.

"I'm gonna go to the cafeteria to get David lunch," Kerry announces, and rushes out before anyone can react.

When she's far enough away from the lab that no one will see her, she leans against a wall and works up her courage.

She has to stay with David so that David doesn't try to hurt himself again. She doesn't understand why he wants to hurt himself so much. There's no one making him, not even Farouk. The only thing everyone wants to do is help him, but he won't let them.

Useless. Stupid.

He'd better apologize when she sees him. She needs him to say he's sorry for hurting himself and trying to die. If he doesn't, she'll never forgive him. She'll leave and stay away and won't come back even if he misses her. Even if he cries.

She stands in the cafeteria and stares at the river of food, all the dishes carried along on their little boats. She doesn't know what David likes to eat besides waffles. She's trying really hard with all this body stuff but it's creepy and weird. She has to chew things and then let them go into her throat, and then they just sit for hours and hours, turning into mush. She can feel them inside her, heavy and unnatural, and all she wants to do is get them out of herself, but that's the grossest part of the whole thing.

But she's outside of Cary now. She can't get everything she needs from him anymore.

Because of Farouk.

Maybe she does understand why David tries to hurt himself even though no one's making him. Farouk is forcing David to live just like he's forcing Kerry to do body stuff. Maybe it's just as awful for him to live as it is for her to eat.

But she has to eat stuff. And he has to live. So if they're both stuck dealing with things they don't want to do, maybe the only thing they can do is deal with them together. That's how it's always been for her and Cary. She wouldn't make Cary deal with anything alone.

She chooses two plates of the beef teriyaki because she likes the cheerful vegetables. Maybe if David eats some smiles he'll smile again. That's probably not how food works but it makes more sense than mashing up a bunch of plants and animals and dissolving them in a pouch.

When she reaches David's cell, she pauses outside of it, listening through the little window. David's still talking to himself, to Divad and Dvd. She wishes she could hear what they're saying back to him. Maybe it wouldn't be so weird and creepy if she could.

When there's a pause in the conversation, she opens the door. She finds David holding up his middle fingers and smiling. The moment he sees her, he hides his hands and ducks his head, embarrassed.

Kerry decides not to ask. ”You hungry?" she asks, and brings in the tray.

"Ah, yeah, sure," David says. He watches her as she sits on the bed and uncovers the tray. There's a notebook on the bed, the one he's been writing in. She's been curious about it. She thought maybe he wrote something about how he's feeling, about what's happened to him. Maybe something about Divad and Dvd.

Instead it's his name, written over and over. Just 'David,' over and over, for pages.

She has no idea where to even start with that, so she ignores it. When she looks up, David's staring down at his knees.

"So, um," Kerry says, trying to find some way back to how they were before everything went wrong yesterday. "Ptonomy says you're feeling better."

"You don't have to pretend you haven't seen everything," David says, miserably.

Kerry sighs. There's no point in lying about it. "Yeah, everyone's watching from the lab."

"Great," David says, even more miserably.

This isn't going very well so far. Maybe she made a mistake, coming back now. Maybe David doesn't want her here. Maybe he needs more time.

"I wasn't sure you'd come back," David admits.

Kerry startles, and then she's kinda mad. Did he really think she was just gonna abandon him? "Of course I was gonna come back. You still have to apologize to me. For being stupid." He's so stupid, how does he even breathe?

David finally looks her in the eyes. "I'm sorry for being stupid," he says, and means it.

“Good,” Kerry says, satisfied that he knows it, at least. And she got her apology so she can forgive him now. “So you’re feeling better?” she asks, and hands him his plate.

They eat, neither of them with any enthusiasm. Somehow that makes Kerry feel better about having to put more stuff into her throat. Ugh.

“Yeah, um. Divad, um, Green? His thing is helping me with—“ David waves his fork at his head. “Avoiding dangerous thoughts, helping me manage my emotions so I don’t get, um, like before.”

“Wow,” Kerry says, genuinely impressed. “He can just do that?” It's like he has a whole new mutant power. Mutant emotional regulation.

“Apparently,” David says. “I guess... If my mind was working the way it was supposed to, I’d be able to do it myself. But, you know.” He waves his fork at his head again, then frowns, then goes back to reluctantly eating.

Kerry reluctantly eats, too.

“I know, I know,” David sighs, suddenly. “Sorry, Divad’s—“ He points his fork to her left.

Kerry stares where he’s pointing, but there's nothing beside her. Does that mean Divad is sitting beside her? Maybe she can punch him after all. But then she thinks that maybe she shouldn't punch him, if he's David's mutant emotional regulation. Wait, that means— She frowns and turns back to David. “Does that mean you were having a dangerous thought just now?”

David shrugs. “Most of my thoughts aren’t exactly safe,” he admits, and musters a brittle smile. “That’s why I’m here. A danger to myself and others.”

Okay, that settles it. She can't punch Divad, at least not until David is better. “You’re here so you can get better,” Kerry reminds him. He seems to need a lot of reminding about that.

But the reminder only makes David grumpier. “I’m here until they can figure out what to do with me. Or until the shit beetle gets bored and decides to play a new game.”

Kerry snorts. “The what?”

“The shit beetle. That’s Dvd’s nickname for Farouk. Like a— Like a scarab? Because he’s from Egypt. He’s been using it for a while, it’s starting to stick.”

Shit beetle. It's the funniest thing Kerry's heard in ages. Even Cary hasn't made any jokes in days, and he always has something to make her laugh, even if it's just an endless rainbow scarf tucked into his shirt pocket. “Can I meet him?”

“Who, Farouk?”

“No, stupid. Dvd. I wanna meet him.” Not that she has to or anything. But if he's funny maybe he's not awful either. Maybe they're both okay, these secret David strangers. “I mean, he can’t be all bad if he says stuff like that.”

David looks to her other side like there's someone there. Is Dvd on the bed, too? Weird and creepy.

“I’m not sure that’s—“ David begins.

“Aw, c’mon,” Kerry pleads. “I wanna meet both of them.” She has to meet them, if they're going to be hanging around her like this.

“No,” David says, firmly. “No, this— I’m— I’m not comfortable with—“ He stops, listening, then he puts his face in his hands. “I am extremely not comfortable with this."

It seems like Divad and Dvd want to meet her, too. Kerry crosses her arms in solidarity. “How am I supposed to decide if I like them or not if I can’t look them in the eye when I interrogate them?”

David continues listening to whatever his alters are saying, and then he visibly relents. He takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out slowly. "I don't want to— I don't want to go away," he says, quietly.

Kerry waits. She can tell he's not talking to her. If this is something David's going to be doing for the rest of his life, she has to get used to it.

"That's not going away?" David asks, even more quietly. He looks wary, stares at the space where he said Divad was sitting. After more listening, he comes to a decision and puts his plate on the floor. "Okay. Okay, what do I do?" He frowns. "But you're not real."

And then David closes his eyes. And then—

And then David opens his eyes, and he grins. Kerry wanted David to smile, but this is definitely not David smiling.

"Hi," says not-David.

Kerry silently panics. What did Ptonomy do when Divad showed up? The cards. Where are the cards? "Uh. Please, uh, hold the card with your name on it," she tells not-David.

Not-David smirks and looks around, finds the cards. He holds one up between two fingers.

"Dvd," she reads.

She can tell a lot about a person just by looking at them. Dvd might be a part of David, but he's definitely not David. He meets her eyes directly, challenging her, so confident in himself that he comes off as arrogant. All the grief and guilt and sadness are gone. She didn't think she would miss them, but she does.

"Hi," she says back, holding out her hand. "I'm Kerry Loudermilk."

"Oh, I know," Dvd says, taking her hand. He squeezes it hard when he shakes, then lets go and leans back, judging her. "We've been watching all of you for a while now."

Kerry wasn't sure what she expected, but it wasn't this. If Dvd is going to be aggressive, she can be aggressive right back. "And you've been hiding for a while now."

Dvd narrows his eyes, annoyed. That's one hit for her. "We weren't hiding," he defends. "We were waiting for the right time."

"You were being sneaky," she shoots back. "You were spying on us."

"Yeah? Well you've been spying on David," Dvd accuses. "He doesn't like that, you know. You're upsetting him, putting him on display like he's some kind of zoo animal."

And that's one hit for Dvd. "I don't like it either," she admits.

"Then do something about it."

"I can't," Kerry says. "It's not up to me."

"Weak," Dvd sneers. "Here I thought you were some kinda super strong badass."

Ugh, two hits. "And here I thought you were," she shoots back.

Two for two. Dvd bares his teeth at her and launches himself to his feet, walks around the cell. He swings his arms, claps his hands together. He doesn't even move like David, though if she squints it does look kinda like what he does when he's really upset. There's a lot of energy in both, but Dvd's is tense, focused, and David's is loose and chaotic.

He really is a different person. Holy shit, there really are two other people inside of David. "Holy shit," she says aloud, unable to stop herself.

Dvd looks at her like she's the weird one.

"So you wanna interrogate me, huh?" Dvd challenges. "Ask away, I've got nothing to hide."

"Oh yeah?" Kerry challenges back. She stands up and faces him. "Okay. Okay. So, um—" Damn it, she's the one who punches people. Clark's the one who asks probing questions. How does she need Clark right now? What is happening? "Why are you so angry?"

"Why do you think?" Dvd sneers. "Next?"

Ugh! Three-two. "Are you gonna hurt David?"

That makes him falter, but not enough. "Don't be stupid," he says. "I'm the one who keeps him safe when no one else can. I do a hell of a better job than any of you people." Then he rounds on nothing. "No, shut up! I finally have the chance to give these useless idiots a piece of my mind and I'm gonna do it." He turns back to Kerry. "You think you're helping him, putting him through this? You're doing exactly what that shit beetle wants. You're torturing him!" He turns back to the air. It must be Divad. Or maybe David? Both? "Shut up! Get away from me!"

Dvd struggles against nothing, and Kerry doesn't know what to do.

"Sanctimonious moralizing asshole!" Dvd yells, and pushes whoever it is away. Then he grabs at the crown. "Do you have any idea how much this thing hurts? God, how does David put up with you people? You know what? I'm done. I'm getting this off right now, and getting him away from all of you!"

Dvd starts clawing at the crown, trying to pull it off. He screams against the pain but he doesn't stop. He doesn't stop and it doesn't matter what he says, he's hurting David right now.

Kerry rushes up to Dvd and punches him square across the jaw. He goes down hard and falls to the floor, out cold.

Shit. David! Oh god, she just—

There's a rush of footsteps as everyone arrives at once: Cary, Syd, Clark, Ptonomy. But it's too late. The damage is already done.

Three-three with a knockout punch. But Kerry knows that everyone's the loser in this fight.

Chapter 11: Day 3: You call this help? (Dvd)

Chapter Text

"Stay calm," Divad says, as David paces back and forth, frantic. He's freaking out, just as bad as he was before Divad started managing him again. "Everything's going to be fine."

"It's not," David says, between too-fast breaths. "It's not. It's really not."

"I thought you had this," Dvd hisses at Divad.

"This is your fault!" Divad hisses back. "Look what you did to him!"

On the bed, David's body is strapped down again, back in full restraints. Every time David calms down enough to look at himself, he starts freaking out all over again. It probably doesn't help that there was blood, or that David's jaw has a nasty bruise that's swelling up. It probably doesn't help that there are people hovering around his unconscious body and shaking their heads and acting like the world just ended.

It probably doesn't help that Kerry is crying and that Syd looks like she's going to be sick.

The blood's gone, anyway. Cary cleaned that up when he checked the crown and checked David's head. He's holding an icepack to David's jaw now, trying to bring down the swelling before it gets too bad. Dvd is outside of their body with the others again, but he can still feel the power of Kerry's right hook. He rubs his jaw, glad for once that he doesn't have to be the one in charge of their body. Though right now no one's in charge.

"I just needed more time," Dvd mutters. If he'd just had more time, he could have got that stupid crown off for good. He couldn't break it from the inside so he had to get at it from the outside, with hands.

"God, for once in your life will you just give up?" Divad yells, then curses as him yelling only makes David even more stressed out.

They can hear David's hamster-wheel thoughts, cycling over and over. He's terrified, convinced that he'll never escape this situation. That all of his friends will write him off as a lunatic, as crazy, as a worthless madman too dangerous to ever let see the sun again. And when he's not thinking that, he's thinking how even if he somehow gets out of this, he'll never escape Farouk, he'll never stop being tortured. Farouk will torture him and torture him until his mind breaks into countless fragments and one of those fragments is finally crazy enough to end the world and he kills everyone. And David can't bear that, he can't bear any of that, he just wants to die, please, please, let him die.

Dvd wishes he didn't have to hear any of that. He really, really wishes he didn't.

"I was trying to protect him," Dvd insists. This isn't his fault. It's the shit beetle's fault, like always. "This place isn't helping him, it's making him worse."

Divad rounds on him, furious. "Right now the only thing making David worse is you. You know what? You wanted to be in charge so bad? Be in charge. This is your mess, the last thing David needs right now is to have to clean it up."

"Fine, I will," Dvd says. Not that he'll able to do anything until their body is ready to wake up again, or that he'll be able to do them any good when he's stuck in a body that can't even move because it's strapped down. He rubs his jaw, braces himself. Damn it, this is gonna hurt.

When he opens their eyes, it's later, and yeah, their jaw is killing him and so is their head. He doesn't know how later it is because there's nothing in this place that gives any sense of time. It's a prison designed to torture the prisoner, and that's just more proof that Dvd made the right choice in trying to get David out of here. It's not just Farouk trying to drive David crazy, it's this place, it's these people who claim to be his friends. Parasites, that's what they are, using him for his powers, throwing him away the moment he's too much trouble for them. They're all the same, all of them. If Divad wasn't so far up his own ass, he would see that and help him instead of letting these people fuck David over again and again.

But anyway, Dvd knows it's later because he doesn't hear anyone crying or talking. He can't see much with their head strapped down like this. He looks as far as their peripheral vision allows, and notices someone.

It's one of those weird robot things. Vermillions. It must be Ptonomy's. Ugh, the last thing Dvd needs right now is another sanctimonious moralizing asshole. He gets enough of an earful from Divad all the time.

The Vermillion notices he's awake and shifts closer. It stares at them, right into their eyes, then leans back.

"I'd ask you to hold up a card, but..." says Ptonomy.

"Ha ha," Dvd sneers. "Very funny. Lemme out of this."

"Still Dvd, right?" Ptonomy guesses. "I'm sorry, you're not going anywhere. We can't trust you not to hurt David."

"I'm not the one who punched him in the face," Dvd says. "You people are the ones hurting him with this stupid crown. Keeping him stuck in this prison cell, treating him like an animal." Pathetic. "You know what the worst part is? You all think you're so much better than him, that you know what he needs, and you're wrong."

"And you know what David needs?"

"I'm the only one who's ever known what David needs," Dvd says, and yeah, it feels good to say it, especially to one of David's so-called friends. "I'm the only one who's always had his back, no matter what happened. All those people who claimed to love us? They abandoned us, over and over. They found a hole to stick us in and walked away. They try to kill us because they can't deal with what we are."

"You don't think David needs help?"

Dvd laughs. "You call this help? You're just that shit beetle's puppets, dancing on a string. Torturing David for him while he sits around being pleased with himself. And you call yourself his friends?" He scoffs. "We know what you’ve been thinking about him since we came back. None of you trusts him. You’re all afraid of him, all of you. It’s no wonder it was so easy for the shit beetle to trick you into turning against him. He doesn’t belong here and if we’d just left right away everything would be fine."

"You wanted David to leave?" Ptonomy asks. "After you got back from the desert?"

If only they had. "We had a plan," Dvd says. "We all agreed. We made David agree to it. After that blonde thing tried to kill us, he finally saw that there was no reason to stay. It was time to get away from all of this bullshit and go somewhere else."

"Where did David want to go?"

"I dunno, a farm or something. It sounded boring but whatever, I don't care where we go. He just wanted to be somewhere quiet, away from all you people. But you wouldn’t let him."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So what was the plan?"

"Simple," Dvd says, proudly. It was mostly his plan and it was a good one. "Stay long enough to watch Farouk fry, and if he tried anything, kill him. Turn him into dust. We know how to do it, the shit beetle used our body to do it. Give him a taste of his own medicine."

"So why didn’t you? Kill him? Why wait at all?"

Dvd grunts in frustration. "David kept changing the plan. He wouldn’t stop obsessing over Syd. You know, I didn’t mind her as long as she made him happy. But ever since we got back it’s been nag nag nag. Stop Farouk, help Farouk, don’t leave, go away. Then just when we’re finally about to smash his head in, she comes up with a gun and starts rambling on about how David’s gonna end the world, and then she shoots us! Fuck her! It was kind, what we did to her, making her forget whatever bullshit mind control the shit beetle did to her. I wish I could forget what he did to me, to David, to all of us. But I can’t. I have to remember because if I don’t know all the bad things that happened to David, I won’t be able to stop them before they happen again."

Shit. That was a lot. He didn't mean to say all of that. And now their throat is tight and there's water in their eyes.

"That sounds like a lot of pain to hold on to," Ptonomy says.

Dvd doesn't cry. David is the one who cries. But now he's the one in their body and their body wants to cry. Dvd won't let it win.

"Well, I have to," Dvd says, roughly. "That’s what I’m here for, that’s why David needs me. I keep him safe, I protect him from anything that tries to hurt him."

"You haven’t been able to protect him from himself."

That hits harder than Kerry's fist.

"David’s suicidal, and not for the first time," Ptonomy continues. "Do you really think you’re helping him by taking him away from his treatment? What if you'd succeeded? What if you got him away, but all that did was give him the opportunity to do what he’s been trying to do for days?"

"No," Dvd insists. "No. I wouldn’t— That wouldn't happen."

"Are you sure about that?"

"No!" Dvd says, loudly. "No, I wouldn't let him! I know, I know he tried before, but I stopped him. Even with that shit beetle always in the way, I got rid of that stupid cord. I saved us!"

"You couldn’t stop him from putting that cord around his neck in the first place. You couldn’t stop him from stepping off that chair."

There are tears leaking out of their eyes. Dvd squeezes them shut.

"What makes you think you could stop him again?" Ptonomy continues, his musical, calm tones slicing through Dvd's guts like a knife.

"I'd stop him," Dvd says, gritting their teeth.

"How? By controlling him, the way Farouk controlled him? By making him a prisoner inside his own body? You’d be just like Farouk, torturing him, making him suffer because you won’t let him get the help he needs."

More tears, flowing out hot and fast no matter how much Dvd tries to stop them. Their stomach hurts and their chest hurts and everything is awful. It's been so long since Dvd was in control of their body for more than a few minutes at a time. All he's been able to do for years is step in to save their life. He forgot what it was like to live in their body, to be at the mercy of it. It's no wonder David hates being alive if he always feels this way.

"You're right," Ptonomy says, softer now. "We did let David down. We thought we helped him but all we did was leave him vulnerable to more pain. I think you know exactly what that feels like, and you know how much we need to make up for that now."

"I just want--" Dvd gasps, their throat tight. "I just want to make it stop." It's been so hard, so hard. David's hurting all the time and Dvd didn't know what else to do. He just wants David to stop hurting.

"That’s what we all want," Ptonomy says. "But there’s only two ways to make David's pain stop, and that’s either to let it win, or to face it and help him through it. I don’t think you’re a coward. So what I want to know is: are you gonna step up and work with us, or are you gonna leave David vulnerable to more pain?"

Dvd doesn't want to let the pain win, to let the shit beetle win. He can't stand that. But staying, letting David suffer in this place, letting them hurt him, how can he stand that either? But god, David wants to kill himself so much. It's worse than it was when David hung himself. It's so much worse. Farouk's threats truly are the only thing keeping him alive, and that hurts the most out of all of this. That the shit beetle is doing what Dvd is supposed to do. Dvd wants to kill him a billion times over for that. He wants to turn every speck of his body to dust, every atom, and then stomp on the dust until even the atoms don't exist anymore.

God, he hates this. He hates all of this. He wishes they'd run away and never looked back.

"Okay," Dvd spits out. "Fine. You win."

The Vermillion leans back like its relieved. "Thank you, Dvd. You're doing the right thing."

"Wait," Dvd says, because he has to try. "The crown. Please, it hurts him so much."

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says, and maybe he actually means it. "I know it hurts him. But it's not forever, even if that’s what you and David are afraid of. If David gets better, he won’t need it anymore. If you want to make all the pain stop, then help David get better. Will you do that? For David?"

More tears, and still he can’t stop them. "Yes. For David."

The Vermillion goes quiet for a few seconds. Then it reaches out and opens the restraints. Dvd fumbles out of the bed the moment their body is freed. He stumbles backwards until he's in the corner, as far away from Ptonomy as he can get. It's only when he catches their breath that he realizes he's standing in the same spot that David is, that he's standing through him.

David is curled up in a tight ball, blocking everything out. He's gone away again, lost in his despair where nothing can reach him. Dvd looks and finds Divad sitting a few feet away, his head bent with grief.

Dvd sits down between them.

"I'm sorry," Dvd says, to both of them. Even if David can't hear him right now. He's sorry for making things worse.

"He's right, you know," Divad says, his voice rough even though he doesn't have a body making things hard to say. "We can't do this on our own. We can't protect him. Again."

"I know," Dvd accepts. "But I don't-- David trusts people, but I don't. I can't."

"You have to," Divad says, looking up to meet his eyes. "We have to. These people are the only chance David has."

"Shit." Dvd knows he's right. He knows. But it's so hard. Not trusting people is the only way he's been able to keep David safe. He's always been on the alert, waiting for the betrayal to come, waiting for their warm smiles to turn cold and angry. It never bothered him before that he was always right.

He doesn't want to be right, not this time. He truly, truly doesn't want to be right. Because if he is right, and David's friends abandon him like everyone else has, then even Farouk's threats won't be enough to keep David alive. And then--

No. No, Dvd's not gonna let that happen. Not again, not if there's anything he can do to stop it. He's not giving up. He's never given up, not ever, not once, no matter how bad things got. And he knows how bad things got, because Farouk's favorite way to torture him was to make him remember all the things that David forgot.

"You take over for a while," Dvd tells Divad. "I got this."

Divad doesn't argue. Dvd steps out, and Divad steps in. David's body gets up and goes back to the bed, sits down, and starts quietly talking to Ptonomy about what's happening to David now.

Dvd can touch David again, so he does. He gets as close as he can and wraps his whole body around David, holding him with all of himself, willing him to get better and come back to them. They've both had to do that for David so many times, so many, many times. Farouk would torture David until he broke, and then leave the shattered mess for Divad and Dvd to frantically try to piece back together. And then he would do it again, and again, and again, and--

Dvd hates how trapped they are, still, after everything they've done to escape. He understands David’s despair. His anger is all he has to protect him from feeling it himself.

They have to do this. They have to get David through the pain, whatever it takes, no matter how hard it is. They have to bring him back and help him get better. They only just got David back. They can’t let Farouk take him away from them again.

Chapter 12: Day 3: She missed so much of him. (Syd)

Chapter Text

It’s more than strange, hearing David calmly talking about himself, about the damage he’s suffered, the state he’s in. But he's not David at all. He’s Divad.

David’s gone away, apparently. He does that when things are too much for him. He goes away, and Divad or Dvd takes over until he’s ready to come back.

Syd's finally starting to understand who David is. Or more importantly, what David is, why he is the way he is. This system he’s a part of. It’s like he was a three-legged stool and Farouk took away the other two legs to see if he could stand on his own. He couldn’t, of course, but he wobbled around for a long time before he finally fell over.

David couldn’t remember that he was only part of a person, part of a system. But when he fell in love with her, he tried to make a new system with her, to fill the missing parts of himself back in. He made them into a binary star, the two of them orbiting around each other, never touching but tethered by the gravity of their love.

But she’s not one leg in a stool. She’s whole unto herself as she always has been. And the harder he leaned on her, the more she tried to make him stand on his own. She just wanted him to be like her: whole and stable and able to bear the weight of things.

He wasn’t. He couldn’t. All the weight did was make him fall faster, to make more mistakes, to spin in confusion until—

She's hurt so much, watching him. She's hurt in every way she could hurt, so much she's barely been able to speak. She would have drunk herself into a stupor and stayed there, but she needed to be sober so she could understand what she was watching, what she was seeing and hearing. She searched for David for a year, knew him for a year before that, and still she missed so much of him. So much.

Divad has assured them that David will come back. David always comes back eventually, he never leaves them for longer than he has to. Because David has a role, too, in this system of his. He's the one who suffers for them. Divad and Dvd protect David’s mind and his body, and in return David takes as much of their pain as he can. He takes it and takes it until he can’t take any more, and then he comes back and takes it again.

It’s unspeakably cruel, what Farouk did to them, what he turned David into. He tortured David until his mind shattered, and then took the pieces of him and turned them into his twisted poetry. He made David’s protectors unable to protect him, and used David’s suffering against the very system that formed to save him from it. Farouk did all of this to a helpless, frightened child whose only crime was being fathered by a man he never knew.

There aren’t words to describe that kind of monstrosity. There aren’t words in any book. It’s too enormous.

She can’t forget what David did to her, but she understands how it happened. She still doesn’t know everything, but she knows the rough steps that brought him to the place where he thought it was okay to reach into her mind and change it. She knows the desperation that drove him to seek her out and try to prove their love was still true, and in doing so destroyed it.

It’s better off dead, that love. She was never what he truly needed, because no one could be that but the other parts of him.

She still loves him, her David. She might even love him more, knowing the truth of him. But he’s so broken and so far away from her, and she doesn’t know if he’ll ever come back. If he even can. She believes Divad, she knows David will open his eyes again. But she doesn’t know what hope there is for him. She doesn’t want it to be too late, like it was for her mother, but she’s so afraid. What if no matter what they do, no matter how hard they fight, they lose him anyway?

All this, and they might lose him anyway.

Divad has been talking to them about what David needs from them, the changes they have to make so he can start to get better. Division 3's methods have been hard on David, and some of them have definitely made things worse. Allying with Farouk. Threatening to kill David if he didn't get better. Strapping him down in a prison cell. Drugging him when he got upset. Treating him like a thing in a cage and putting him on display. The crown, which hurts him, even though it's the only thing keeping him alive, the only thing stopping him from killing himself with a single thought.

They can’t change everything, but they can do better. David is a thing in a cage to Division 3, but he shouldn't have been to his friends, to the people who said they care about him. They should have protected him, fought on his behalf against the organization they're living at the heart of, but Dvd was right. They were too afraid of David to trust him, to love him the way they should have. They let Division 3 shove him out of sight because that was easier for everyone. They watched, but they still turned away.

Syd turned away, at the beginning. She gave herself the luxury of that. If it wasn't for Ptonomy...

Ptonomy's finished talking to the Admiral and has approval to transfer David out of the cell that's been making him worse. It's the strangest patient transfer she's ever seen, because the patient is currently invisible and insensate, curled up in a ball of despair, tended to by one of his caretakers while the other walks his body up to the lab.

She's not sure how that works. She's not sure how David works. His whole situation is so unusual. Syd doesn't care about normal, but David is so one-of-a-kind that there's no case study, no reference material, no expert who can help them. He's a mutant identity system that forgot parts of himself because of a mental parasite that still won't let him go. And knowing all of that doesn't even begin to fix what's wrong with David.

If he can be fixed. If he can get better. If, if, if.

Cary's lab has already been overtaken by beds and cots, but Syd and the others get to work rearranging it to make a space for David to recover in, to live in. He needs privacy, but they can't let him feel like he's being hidden away. He needs to know he belongs with them, he needs reminders that he's still part of the world they're trying so hard to coax him back to.

Ptonomy couldn't convince the Admiral to turn off the surveillance for the lab, so they set up a folding screen by David’s bed for when he needs it. The sleeping cots are right beside his bed, with Melanie and Oliver's beds and equipment at the other side of the lab. There’s a table for them to eat at together. The whole setup reminds Syd of Summerland. The shared sleeping space, the closeness of everything, the way there was no separation between the patients and the staff.

It reminds her of Melanie. The real Melanie, the way she was before Farouk got his hooks in her, too; not the pale, lost Melanie sleeping across the room. Syd doesn’t even know how it happened, how they let her slip away from them. One day, she was with them, missing Oliver deeply but still fighting for a better future for everyone. And then one day she was gone. She was still physically present, but her mind had drifted away, like Oliver’s mind drifted away from spending twenty years in an ice cube on the astral plane.

Syd's never been a joiner. She was never part of anything until she was brought to Summerland. But she worked with Melanie every day over the year David was gone. They fought side-by-side against Division 3’s stubborn hatred for mutantkind every single day, and they did good work, real work together. Syd's proud of what they accomplished. They stopped so many terrible things, far beyond Farouk. They stopped innocent people’s lives from being ruined across the world.

But maybe they pushed themselves too much. They were so busy looking after the world that they didn’t look after their own. And now they’re all paying the price.

When they've finished arranging the room, Divad sits on David's bed, looks around. "Yes, this is much better," he says.

"Is there any change?" Cary asks him.

Divad looks at something they can't see. Maybe it's David. It's strange to think of him like this, so close but just out of reach. He's been trapped outside of his body before, stuck in the astral plane or some other psychic space, but he's not trapped this time. He could come back to them, to himself; he just can't bear to.

"No," Divad says, unhappily. "Dvd's with him. He'll let us know when David comes back."

"And then you'll switch?" Cary asks.

"If that's what he wants," Divad says. He's worried, too; she can see it, even if his worried face is different from David's worried face.

Cary sighs, runs his hand back through his hair. “Thank god you’re here.”

Divad raises his eyebrows.

“Not that we don’t want David back, very badly,” Cary explains. “But you and Dvd are so important. Thank you, for keeping him alive, for not letting him— Thank you.”

Divad actually seems quite touched by that. “I know our existence makes things harder for everyone,” he admits. “David’s afraid that—“ He pauses, upset. “It’s hard for him, accepting that we’re part of him.”

“It must have been terrible when he forgot you,” Cary says, with feeling. “I can’t imagine—“

“It was worse for David,” Divad says. “At least Dvd and I still had each other, even if all we did was fight. David knew something was missing, but he just thought—“ He swallows. “He blamed himself. He thinks he’s—“ He can’t finish.

“Well,” Cary says, firmly. “Obviously he’s wrong about that.”

Ptonomy walks over, having finished going over the new plan with Clark. “I think we’re all set. Is there anything else you want to tell us?”

“There’s a lot,” Divad says. “But I don’t know what you’ll need to know until David comes back.”

“That’s what’s giving us a fighting chance,” Ptonomy assures him. “Most therapy is fumbling in the dark, hoping to find part of the story. With your help, we don’t have waste time with that. We can find what’s hurting him and treat it.”

Syd thinks of her mother. She thinks of chemotherapy and surgery, carpet bombing and targeted strikes. Maybe there is hope, if they can find the mass of his disease and cut it out quickly.

“And you’re able to keep David’s emotions from going out of control,” Ptonomy continues. “That means we don’t need to rely on any drugs. No side effects, nothing to remind him of the ways he’s been treated before. He can face things with a clear head.”

“It’s still not going to be easy,” Divad warns them. “But we’ll do everything we can from our side, and we’ll trust you.”

“Thank you,” Ptonomy says. “We’ll do everything we can for him. If we can get David well enough, he'll start to help himself. That’s when we’ll know he’ll be okay.”

§

It was lunchtime when David left. They wait through the afternoon, through dinner, but he still doesn’t come back. Divad and Dvd switch places, Divad watching over David while Dvd takes care of their body.

Their body, not his. Syd’s going to have to get used to this, to David being other people, even if the other people are still him. Even though no one knew, Divad and Dvd have been there the whole time. They’ve experienced almost all of David’s life with him. They’ve—

They’ve experienced her. Her body, her love. The things she and David did thinking they were alone. The things she said to him, she also said to them.

It’s a lot to take in. It feels too much like last year, when she realized with sinking horror that the David who’d come back from the astral plane and made love to her wasn’t fully David at all. That there was someone inside him, guiding him, controlling him, looking out at her through his eyes. Wearing David like a mask.

These alters, they’re not Farouk. They weren’t trying to deceive her or David. They were trapped inside him the way David was trapped, shouting and pounding and trying so hard to be heard.

She knows that David didn’t like what Farouk made him do to Division 3 last year. Even in the brief time they’ve had, he’s woken up with terrible nightmares, reliving that day. She feels sick when she thinks about the things she said to him under Farouk’s control. It’s no wonder all David could think to do was make her forget. He wanted to forget, too. He didn’t want the pain of hearing her tell him he was the very monster he’d tried so hard to fight. She said she loved him, but she still said that to him. She wonders if that’s what finally broke him, that last, feather-light straw on top of decades of straws.

She thinks maybe it was.

There's nothing she can do to take those words back, just like there's nothing David can do to take back what he did to her. They have to live with all of it, like they have to live with all the things they've done and all the things done to them. That's the only choice there's ever been for her, even if it hasn't been the only choice for David.

He has to come back. Please let him come back, so they can help him the way they should have from the start.

"He'll be okay."

It's David's voice, and it startles her. But it's still Dvd behind David's face, looking out at her.

"David's tough," Dvd says, with quiet pride. "I mean— He’s not like me. He doesn’t have to be because I’m the tough one, I’m strong enough for all of us. Anything the world wants to throw at us? I knock it down.” The arrogant gleam in his eyes fades. “David’s— He’s soft, but he takes it. Whatever it is, he takes it.”

“Maybe he took too much,” Syd says, quietly.

“Yeah,” Dvd says, frowning and furrowing his brow. “But— A few hours? That’s nothing. We had to cover for him for over a week when we were fifteen. He still came back.”

A week? “What did Farouk do to him?” She asks, unable not to, but she really doesn’t want to know.

Thankfully, Dvd doesn’t want to tell. “What he always does. Fucked him over, fucked all of us over, jerking himself off the whole time.” He puts up his middle fingers and points them at the ceiling.

Syd saw David do that, over the live feed, just before he stepped out of himself and vanished. She’d wondered, but hearing only one-third of David’s conversations with his alters has been challenging at best. At least that’s one mystery solved.

“What was it like?” Syd asks, curious. “For the three of you? Besides—“

“Besides the torture?” Dvd huffs. “Sometimes he left us alone for a while. It’s no fun breaking what’s already broken. Those times were— We had each other. We had Amy. She loved us for longer than anyone, until—“

Amy. God, with everything going on, Syd had completely forgotten about her drunken revelation.

“But she gave up on us, too,” Dvd grouches. “I was so mad, David would’ve been on my side if he’d been able to hear us, but Divad—“

“Amy’s still alive,” she says, and everyone turns and looks at her.

“What?” Dvd is the first to speak, but they all want to know. “Farouk killed her, he turned her into Lenny.”

Syd rubs her forehead. “I know, but— After David was— I had a hunch, a drunken hunch that Farouk had done something to keep her alive just so he could use her to torture David. So I went down and talked to Lenny and— Amy’s still alive. Or part of her, something. Her soul?” It must be her soul, Syd knows about souls. “She answered my questions about David.”

“You spoke with her?” Cary asks.

“I talked to Lenny. Lenny told me what she said.” It’s weird, but is it any weirder than anything else they’ve dealt with? Is it weirder than a woman who can swap souls with a touch? A man inhabiting a hive-mind android? Two people who’ve alternately lived inside each other? Maybe David and his alters are the most normal out of all of them.

Now that’s a thought.

“You didn’t think to mention this sooner?” Ptonomy says, angry in a way he hasn’t been since he came back.

“I was drunk, and hungover, and then—“ Syd makes a wordless gesture to encompass every crazy thing that’s happened. This is the first time in days that her mind hasn’t been one long, high-pitched scream.

“Amy,” Dvd says, stunned. “Hold on, I gotta—“ He closes his eyes, and then when he opens them: “Amy’s alive?” asks Divad.

"Okay, okay, let's take a breath," Ptonomy says, tersely. "The last thing we want to do is walk right into another one of Farouk's traps. Until we know it's really her, we can't tell David. We don't even know that Lenny is Lenny."

"We need a telepath," Cary says, and looks over at Oliver, looks back at Divad. "That's the one thing we don't have."

"Maybe we could take off the crown?" Syd offers. "Dvd could do it. Just for a few minutes, while David's not awake."

"And if David comes back right in the middle of that?" Ptonomy says. "It would be a disaster."

"Well the only other telepath is Farouk, and that would be even more of a disaster," Syd says back. Shit, how are they going to talk to Amy? They need to get into Lenny's head somehow, figure out what's going on. See if-- "Oh my god," she says, realizing. "I can do it. I can swap with Lenny."

"But--"

She cuts Ptonomy off. "When I was leaving Clockworks, David kissed me. I was in his body. But so was Farouk. I saw him. He's what made me--" He's what made her seal up all the patients using David's powers, he's what made her kill Lenny. And then he snatched Lenny's soul and dragged her into David's mind, so he could use her to hurt David when David came back.

It's almost predictable how awful Farouk is, how single-mindedly he tortures David at every opportunity, in any way he possibly can.

If Syd swaps bodies with Lenny, Amy will still be in Lenny's body. And then Syd can see her and talk to her directly. They'll know for sure if it's her, at least as sure as any of them can be about any of this.

"I'll get Clark," Ptonomy says, and a few minutes later, the man himself limps into the lab.

"Been a little distracted, have we?" Clark smirks.

"You knew," Syd realizes. He told her, that morning, right before David got his diagnosis. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"The same reason why you're not already down in Lenny's cell," Clark says. "I didn't want to make a bad situation worse. I still don't. We have no reason to believe she's anything but a roadside bomb, waiting to go off and take the last of David's sanity with her." He touches his forehead. "Like David's little messages. Farouk just has to sit back and watch the fireworks."

"That's all he's been doing," Syd says, though frankly she's glad of that. The last thing David needs is for Farouk to pay him another visit and make things worse.

Shit, they're going to need to watch out for that. If David does start getting better, and Farouk doesn't want him to... Shit. Shit.

Okay. Okay, one potential disaster at a time. At least this one is something she can actually do something about. She's done with sitting on the sidelines, watching.

They say the best way to defuse a bomb is to blow it up. A controlled explosion, that’s what it’s called. Clear the blast zone, isolate the bomb, and trigger it on your terms, not the terms of whoever left it there.

Lenny’s the package and Amy’s the bomb hidden inside. Syd doesn’t know how yet, but she knows Clark's right. Lenny's the innocuous package left on the street, waiting silently for some unsuspecting passerby to pick it up and blow themselves apart.

Farouk is getting predictable. He always does the cruelest thing that anyone could possibly imagine. It makes her sick to put herself in his head, even in the abstract, but she has to. She has to, because if she can’t control this explosion, it’s going to blow what’s left of David apart.

She doesn’t know how yet, but she knows it’s true.

"So let's set off some fireworks," Syd says.

Chapter 13: Day 3: She thinks about sunflowers. (Amy)

Chapter Text

Sunflowers. Amy keeps thinking about sunflowers.

She had a garden full of them, in the desert. It wasn't much, as gardens go, just a dusty patch of sand she had to water several times a day just to keep it alive under the relentless sun. Not a lot of things grow in a desert, even with all that water, fertilizer, attention. But her sunflowers thrived, growing so fast, so big and strong. From tiny little seeds they grew up and up, until they were taller than she was.

They're probably all dead, now, without her to water them. Without her to love them. A few days in the sun and they'll have withered away. A few weeks and they'll bake until they crumble into dust and blow away on the desert wind.

Ben. Oh god, Ben.

She knew, as soon as he walked to the door and there was silence. She knew. She thinks part of her was waiting for it to happen, waiting all year for the monster to find them. It was almost a relief when the dread finally stopped because the worst was already happening.

But then there was the pain. And the pain was worse than the dread, even a whole year of dreading and worrying, a whole year of praying for a miracle, for David to come back to them whole and healthy, for the wandering monster to stay away for good and leave them in peace. That's all she ever wanted, for her and Ben and David to be left in peace to live their lives. For things to be safe and normal and happy. That's all she ever wanted for all of them.

She didn't even know David was back. Division 3 didn't tell her. Syd didn't tell her, even though they'd grown close over the long year of waiting. The first time she knew that David was back, it was when he appeared in front of her in an upside-down interrogation room. She couldn't speak to him, couldn't tell him she was there. But then he saw her memories and he knew. He knew.

She thinks his pain was equal to her own, in that moment, hearing him wail with intolerable grief. She grieved for him back, and for herself, for Ben, for everything the monster had taken away from all of them. He took so, so much.

She wishes she'd been able to hold him, but it was Lenore that did that. Lenore Busker. Lenny, as she likes to be called, as David called her when he talked about her in Clockworks. Lenny was his friend, his only friend in that place for a long time. And then she died, and then her ghost possessed him, controlled him, walked him around like a doll and spoke with his mouth.

David explained all of it later, when they were finally safe in Summerland. He explained how there had been a monster in his head, making him see things and hear things. How the monster hurt him and then made him forget what it had done, so he wouldn't be able to stop it from hurting him again. He explained that Lenny was just a trick it used to manipulate him.

Amy didn't understand any of that. It was all madness to her. She only cared that it was all over and that David was finally well. Her little brother, her sick little brother who'd suffered so much, was finally going to be okay.

And then, just like that, someone took him.

God, it was so unfair. He was happy for the first time in so long. He had somewhere he could actually belong. He was loved and safe and had everything she'd always wished for him. And someone reached out and ripped him away from all of that.

She doesn't know who they were. She had a year of questions and no answers and then a horrific, final answer to a question she never wanted to ask. But they were cruel, doing that to him. They were unspeakably cruel.

The monster possessed someone else when they got it out. It couldn't have David so it took Oliver Bird instead. Oliver was a kind man, odd but kind, and she was so grateful to him for saving them, for helping them save David. She didn't understand any of what he did, but she knows he did more for David in those few days than all the doctors ever could.

She knows it wasn't Oliver who did this to her, who killed Ben. She doesn't blame him for being walked around like a doll, for being spoken out of. She's grieving for him too, even though she doesn't know if he's alive or dead. He probably doesn't want to be alive, after doing the things the monster made him do.

She thinks about her sunflowers. She thinks about cutting them down, a row every week, so she could sit with them in the kitchen. She thinks about their dark, wide faces and bright petals, the yellow rays taking the sunlight and making it smooth and soft and solid. She planted them in sequence, another row every week so every week would have a harvest. Fifty-two rows of sunflowers. With all that sun, it took about fifteen weeks for each seed to grow big enough to bloom. So many of those rows will never bloom. The ones she planted last are already dead, tiny seedlings too weak to survive even a single day without her.

Ben. Oh god, Ben.

He hated the desert. As little as Amy understood about their situation, about why their lives were in danger, he understood it even less. Ben was a man of simple needs and that was part of what she loved about him. She'd dealt with enough complexity in her life, enough suffering and confusion. She needed someone like him, who understood so little of her life that he let her leave it behind. To Ben, David was just her crazy little brother who belonged safely locked away in a mental hospital, and that was that. He didn't mean to be dismissive, to be cruel, to ignore how important David was to her heart. He just didn't understand, and it was easier to ignore what he didn't understand.

That was why she married him. So she could ignore what she didn't understand and not feel guilty for it. Even before David tried to kill himself, Ben urged her to find somewhere to put David away. Ben was the one who researched the options, who left pamphlets on the dinner table. Ben proposed to her the week after David walked into Clockworks, and Amy said yes, and cried with joy and cried with grief and cried with shame because she knew he wouldn't have asked if asking meant bearing the burden of David with her.

David couldn't come to the wedding. They wouldn't let him out for that. They wouldn't let him out for their father's funeral. They wouldn't let him out at all.

She knew it was a mistake, putting him there, but she didn't know what else to do. She didn't know how else to help him. And the doctors there had been so kind when she met with them, telling her that David would get his own room, that he would get the best treatment, that they would do everything they could to make him better, and if they couldn't make him better they would at least keep him safe.

All they did was keep him. She visited him whenever she could, at least once a month, but he never got better. He was physically safe but that was all. It broke her heart to visit him, and it broke her heart to sit at home knowing there was nothing she could do for him.

At least he couldn't try to kill himself while he was there. That's what she told herself. At least he's still alive. If she hadn't put him there, he would have tried again. That's what the doctors said, in the hospital, as he lay in the emergency room bed with an angry bruise across his throat. They said he would almost definitely try again, if nothing changed, and that he needed professional help before it was too late.

She made the right choice, getting him help, even if it wasn't the right kind of help. She believes that. She didn't know about the monster, no one did. Even if she had, what could she have done differently? There was a bad thing in David's head, driving him crazy, and it didn't matter if that bad thing was a literal monster or just a figurative one. Either way, she couldn't have got it out on her own.

She couldn't have. She spent so many years trying to help him get better, and she never could.

She thinks about sunflowers.

She thinks about sunflowers.

She saw the message when David put it into Lenny's mind. She didn't understand that either, but it was important to David and she wanted to do everything she could to help him, now that she could help him. So she did. She got Lenny to the blue octopus, to the car with the gun, to the desert. Despite what the monster did, twisting them together like this, she knows Lenny is David's friend, his only friend for the years he was at his lowest. Amy knew Lenny would step up and help, if she just had a little push.

Amy's glad she pushed. Lenny saved David's life twice with that gun, in the desert. Lenny might be crude and an addict and mostly an awful person overall, but she's been there for David when he needed her, when she could. She loves him the way only two people who've been through something terrible together can love each other. If Amy has to spend the rest of her life a prisoner in her own body, unable to do anything but watch, at least she's trapped in someone who loves David the way they both love him.

She just hopes he's all right. She thought he was, until Syd came to visit, incredibly drunk and offering liquor. She thought David's plan had worked and the monster had finally been caught. But Syd said David was in danger, that Farouk was going to kill him, and she hasn't been back and no one else has come for days.

So there's nothing Amy can do but wait, again. To wait in a prison cell inside of a prison cell. She doesn't do well in prisons. That's not a truth about herself that she ever wanted to know. She's not a tough person, if she gets a papercut she has to lie down. But here she is, trapped in an incredibly unpleasant cell at the heart of Division 3, again. She can't even scream this time. So she thinks about sunflowers.

She thinks about sunflowers.

She thinks about--

The door to the cell opens. There's guards, and they take rough hold of Lenny and drag her out of the cell. Lenny struggles against them even though she's just as glad as Amy to see the back of that awful room, even if whatever's going to happen to them is even worse.

They're brought to a strange room. There's a man sitting in a chair at the center of it, and he has a basket on his head. There are two strange women standing on either side of him, on pedestals, with large magnifying lenses in front of their faces. There's a giant picture of a forest behind them, and it's glowing with light.

If Amy wasn't already slowly losing her mind, she'd think she was finally going crazy.

Syd walks in, sober this time. Clark and one of those strange women are with her. Amy saw the women through Lenny's eyes before, and thought they looked familiar somehow, but she doesn't know why. They have thick mustaches. She certainly would have remembered seeing women with mustaches before.

"Lenore Busker," says one of the women, in an odd, robotic, melodic voice that's just so familiar Amy wishes she could place it. "There is an eighty-nine percent chance that the soul of Amy Haller is contained within the body formerly known as Amy Haller."

"Shit, you didn't have to drag me up here to tell me that," Lenny says, cocky but as bewildered as Amy feels. "You coulda just asked." She turns to Syd. "Party's been pretty dry in that cell, you got any more whiskey? Vodka? Hard drugs? These chicks look like they do hard drugs."

"You will tell us the purpose of your presence here," says the woman on the other side of the basket guy.

"Yeah," Lenny says, already looking around for a way out. "I already told you guys, I was in a drawer. I'd love to help, really. Where's David? I heard, ah, I heard he was in trouble."

"David Haller is currently receiving treatment," says the first woman.

Lenny doesn't like the sound of that. "Treatment? What the hell? What are you sickos doing to him?"

Amy wants to know the answer to that herself. What's happened to David? She needs to know what's happened to David. Oh god, something's happened to him and she can't help him, not when she's a prisoner inside of a prisoner. God, she wishes she could scream. She can't even scream.

Lenore, do something, Amy urges, because that's all she can do. Help him!

"He is receiving treatment," says the second woman.

"He just saved your asses from that asshole!" Lenny says, wriggling in the guards' grip. "Lemme see David!"

"Lenny," Syd says, walking up and stopping in front of her. "I need to talk to Amy again."

"Fuck you, talk to her yourself," Lenny snarls.

Syd smiles, lips pressed together. "I will," she says, and reaches up and touches Lenny's cheek with her bare hand.

And then everything--

And then Lenny--

There's this moment, this perfect suspension in time, when Amy is alone in her own body again. She's still trapped, tucked away in a corner of her own mind, but Lenny is gone, completely gone.

And then someone else rushes in, filling up all the space.

In front of her, Syd collapses, and the third mustache woman catches her before she hits the floor.

"Hey," says Lenny's voice, but it's not Lenny's mind around her now. It's Syd's.

It takes Amy a minute to remember that this is a thing Syd can do. This is a mutant thing she can do, swapping souls with someone else. It's how they got the monster out of David.

"Amy, can you hear me? It's Syd. If you're there, say something."

It's not easy for Amy to manifest herself visually. It takes a lot of effort, and she's only managed it twice, but both times were when David needed her and David needs her now.

"I'm here," Amy says, showing herself.

Syd sees her. "Is it really you?"

"Yeah," Amy says, and relief suddenly floods through her. When Syd didn't come back before, she thought-- She didn't know what had happened, but it scared her. She thought maybe Syd was too drunk to remember that she was still inside of Lenny. She thought no one but Lenny would ever see her again. "Syd. Thank god. Please, what's going on?"

"David's safe," Syd promises. "You'll find out everything soon. But right now we have to take care of you, okay?"

Syd nods, and one of the other women comes over and helps the third woman drag Syd's body towards the back of the room. Lenny's waking up, but she's still limp, groggy.

"What's happening?" Amy asks, worried. She never worried about anyone losing their body until recently but she's very worried about that now.

"We'll both find out soon," Syd tells her. "It'll be okay, I promise."

And then, to Amy's shock, the two women drag Syd's body into the picture of the forest. They vanish inside it.

"I'm sorry," Syd says to her, genuinely. "We tried to keep you safe, but we failed."

And then everything--

And then Syd--

And then it's everything around Amy that changes. She feels lots of things at once: Lenny rushing back, a blur of trees, a pain at her temples. And then she's pulled, pulled, and Lenny's pulled, too, into--

Amy opens her eyes. She's in a dark space, and there are numbers glowing on the walls.

"What the fucking fuck?" Lenny says. She's in the room, too.

"It takes some getting used to," says a voice, familiar and male. Amy turns. It's Ptonomy, wearing a black suit.

Amy rushes up to him and hugs him. "Where are we?" she asks, bewildered. "What happened?"

"We killed you," Ptonomy says, apologetically. "I'm sorry. It was the only way to save both of you."

"You killed me?" Lenny says, outraged. "I just got my body back, asshole!"

"That wasn't your body," Ptonomy says, sternly.

Amy steps back. It was bad enough that her body had been mutilated, overwritten with Lenny's genetic material. But they killed her? "I'm-- I'm dead?"

"We're alive," Ptonomy assures her. "We're in Division 3's mainframe. Farouk can't reach us here. I'm sorry, we didn't want to have to do this, but it was the only way to save both of you. We had to act quickly."

This is all too much for Amy to cope with. She's inside of a computer now? Maybe she has gone crazy, completely crazy. Maybe she should be the one checked into Clockworks.

"Amy," Ptonomy says, putting a hand on her arm. "I know it's a shock. But Farouk was going to use you to hurt David."

That brings her back. Protecting David always brings her back. Maybe it's wrong, that he's her constant. Maybe she should have stopped trying to help him and lived her own life. But he's her little brother. He's her heart.

"We figured out his plan," Ptonomy continues. "Once David realized you were trapped inside of Lenny, he would have faced an impossible choice. Either he would have had to kill Lenny to save you, or he would have been forced to let you suffer, trapped inside your own body, the same way David was trapped inside of his."

"So you killed my body?" Lenny says, still outraged.

"We cut the Gordian knot,” Ptonomy says. "David's in an extremely fragile state right now, and even if he wasn't, there's no reason to make him go through that. Farouk's tortured him for long enough. We're not letting him hurt David or either of you anymore."

"By killing us!" Lenny says, spreading her arms wide. "I told you Division 3 was evil. That's some supervillain shit."

"Farouk already killed you," Ptonomy shoots back at her. "And what he did to Amy-- We had no way to restore her, and even if we did, restoring her would have killed you again. At least this way you're both still alive."

"You said--" Amy's trying to focus, trying to cling to something she can understand. "You said David's sick?"

"Yes," Ptonomy says, sobering. "He's very sick. We're taking care of him as best we can, but he's going to need you -- both of you -- to get better."

Amy looks around. She's dead, her body is dead. No, she's alive and inside a computer. Maybe she's dead and inside a computer and crazy all at the same time. "How-- How can we help him from here?"

"The Vermillion," Ptonomy says. "The android women with mustaches? We can put our consciousnesses inside of them. That allows us to be part of the world. It takes some getting used to, but it works. I'll help you, don't worry. I've been in here for about a week now. It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"Shit," Lenny says, finally calming down. "You're dead, too?"

"Ptonomy," Amy gasps. She hugs him again. "I'm so sorry."

Ptonomy resists, then holds her back. He sighs against her hair. God, he's been dead for a week, dealing with all this, and he was alone in here.

"At least we have each other," Amy says, tearful. They can still cry, here, it seems. Even without their bodies.

"We do," Ptonomy agrees, and she can see that he's glad for that. "Come on. I'll show you around. This place is pretty wild."

§


"You killed them," Syd says, and feels another headache coming on.

"Technically, Ptonomy killed them," Clark says. "I wasn't allowed to know that part of the plan either. But yes. We killed their fused, mutilated body so we could upload their minds into the mainframe, where they'll be safe."

When they started working out a plan to save Amy, they ran into the same problem that David, Divad, and Dvd had. If the people making the plan had minds that could be read by Farouk, who was always listening, then Farouk would know the plan before they'd even finished making it.

The only person among them whose mind couldn't be read was Ptonomy. So he had to make the plan and only share the parts he absolutely had to share for it to work. Syd's part of the plan was to swap bodies with Lenny, confirm that it really was Amy inside of her, and then wait a certain number of seconds to swap back. When she saw her body dragged into the mainframe, she'd had a moment of horrified doubt, but she'd waited those last seconds and made the switch, trusting that everything would go as planned.

It did. She's just not thrilled with the final result.

"How are we going to tell David?" Syd asks, frankly at a loss.

"As far as David knows, Amy is completely gone," Clark offers. "Now she's alive, if disembodied. It's still an improvement."

"And Lenny?" Syd asks, not impressed.

"It's not great," Clark admits. "But this was the best option out of a lot of bad options. They're alive, they're safe. We can look for a way to get them out of there. Make them new bodies, somehow. This is an age of wonders."

"Optimism isn't a good look on you," Syd tells him, but she has to admit he's right. Obviously they can't bring any of them out of the mainframe until Farouk is gone or all of this will be for nothing. But at least for now they're safe. Farouk can't touch them.

She's still not looking forward to having to tell David any of this. Jesus. They killed Amy's body.

"Okay," Syd says, gathering herself. "Okay. It's a win. I'll take it."

Clark looks pleased with himself. "Good. I'll let you deliver the news to the others."

Syd glares at him. "Thanks," she grits out. God, she's not looking forward to that either.

Clark waves as he walks away.

Syd takes a moment to collect herself. Jesus. They killed Amy's body. They're going to have to wait until David is a hell of a lot more stable to tell him any of this, or it's going to be just as bad as letting the Lenny-Amy package bomb blow up in his face.

But Clark's right. He's right, David thought Amy was dead. Now Amy is alive. It's still an improvement. And she's in the mainframe with Ptonomy, so it's more like Amy and Lenny are just... somewhere else. With Ptonomy. That's not so bad.

They're alive, they're safe. It's an age of wonders. The three of them were uploaded into the mainframe, there's no reason why they can't be downloaded back out of it.

"An age of wonders," Farouk agrees, and Syd jumps like a startled cat.

"Very smart," he says, standing there, calm and composed. She doesn't know where he teleported in from, but he almost gave her a heart attack doing it. "Divide and conquer. I must congratulate you. I never expected you to go along with something so ruthless."

"I guess you don't know me very well," Syd says, trying again to collect herself as quickly as possible.

"Always full of surprises," Farouk says.

"Stay away from David," Syd warns, happy to turn the subject away from herself.

Farouk chuckles. "My dear, there is no reason for such hostility. We want the same thing, for David to get better. What is it he said, David? It's no fun breaking what is already broken."

God, she hates how he's always watching them. "That was Dvd, not David."

"Ah, then you have decided to feed his delusion, his madness," Farouk says, with mock pity. "Do you not want to cure his sickness?"

"Dvd and Divad are how he survived being infected by you," Syd shoots back.

Farouk raises a finger. "Ah, but you yourself know he did not survive. They told you, the ones you saved. His sister, his best friend. His mind shattered into fragments. He hung himself. He yearned for death as he yearns for it now. He strains for it with all his heart, but I deny him. David is only alive because that is what I want. I am his god."

Syd takes a step back, unable not to. She can't stand to be near his monstrosity.

"It's true, he's too broken to play with," Farouk continues. "Do you think this is the first time that has happened? So I rest. I let him struggle to put himself back together. And if he can't?" He waves his hand. "A simple matter to make him forget. These fragments of him that fool themselves, thinking they are someone else. Even they forget, when I wish them to, and they do not even remember forgetting."

He steps forward, and she takes another step back.

"You destroyed a beautiful sunrise," Farouk says, all menace now. "A marble sculpture revealed by my chisel. But David is clay. He is pliant, always ready to be shaped again to my will." He tilts his head. "So please, heal his tortured soul. Put him back together. Make him whole for me. Take your time, I insist. I am a very patient man."

And then he's gone.

Syd falls back against the wall. She slides down to the floor and sobs, her hand over her mouth.

Chapter 14: Day 4: You and your friends got him out. (Syd, Kerry)

Chapter Text

It’s not the kind of thing Syd does, having a breakdown in a hallway. If she’s going to have a breakdown, she’ll have it alone, in the privacy of her room, with a full bottle of whiskey for company.

But she can’t move. She can barely breathe around the pain in her chest. She feels like she’s been punched in the gut, a strong right hook to the soft of her belly.

She can’t move, and Division 3 is always watching. So it doesn’t surprise her when she hears footsteps coming towards her. It surprises her who they belong to.

“I saw,” Clark says, and holds out his hand for her. “I’m sorry.”

Syd lets out a harsh breath. “Yeah.” She has to pull herself together. But it’s hard when she’s just been torn apart.

Clark’s still holding out his hand. She forces herself to take it, to let him pull her up. Ants crawl under the skin of her palm. When she’s standing again she lets go and leans against the wall.

“He’s an asshole,” Clark says, so casually that it makes Syd laugh through a sob.

“God, he really is,” she agrees.

Clark considers her, then joins her, leaning back against the wall. “You know, here’s the thing about people like him.”

“Are there others?” Syd interrupts, horrified at the very thought.

“Too many. But most of them aren’t mind readers. The thing about people like him is that they can’t stand it when they lose.”

Syd sniffs. “So?”

“So when people like him get angry, that’s when they make mistakes.”

Syd wishes he would get to the point. “Which are?”

“What he said, all of that. I’m sure it was true. But it was only mostly true.”

“And which part wasn’t?” She asks, and wipes her eyes. “He did all of that to David. He’ll do it again.”

“He did. He could, when he lived in David’s head. But he’s not in David’s head anymore, because you and your friends got him out.”

Syd can’t believe what’s happening. “Are you pep talking me?”

Clark shrugs. “Don’t get used to it.”

Syd gives something like a laugh. It’s not quite a laugh but it’s better than crying. She takes a deep breath, lets it out.

“You’re right,” she says, letting the realization calm her. “He’s pissed off because we beat him. He wanted to hurt me.”

It worked. But it was a mistake, lashing out. This is the second time he’s gone out of his way to hurt her, to drive a wedge between her and David’s recovery. He was angry after David was captured, too, despite everything he did to make that happen. She can see that now. He was angry because he lost.

Farouk likes to think of himself as a god. He’s incredibly powerful, but he’s back in his body now, and the real world isn’t as easy to control as David’s mind. He can talk, he can watch, he can push their buttons all day long. But they’re not his puppets. He can’t control them. Not the way he could control David from the inside, for thirty years.

You can forget a lot about the way the world works when you leave it behind for thirty years. Even one year in Clockworks was enough to teach her that.

“Just because I made a deal with him, it doesn’t mean I want to see him win,” Clark says.

“You know he just heard you say that.”

Clark shrugs. “I work with David. I’m used to mouthing off to unstable gods.”

It takes a moment for Syd to catch it: that he used the present tense and not the past. That he still considers David as an ally and not just a sick and dangerous patient.

It means a lot, even though she knows he doesn’t want her to mention it.

“Me too,” Syd says, and that’s enough.

§

It’s almost morning when David finally comes back to them.

Divad is awake, having rested earlier; Dvd is sleeping in David’s body. Everyone else is asleep except for Ptonomy. His Vermillion is quiet, and his mind is probably in the mainframe, keeping company with Amy and Lenny.

It’s always a delicate time when David comes back. Divad doesn’t want to startle him. He lets David surface at his own pace, waits patiently as David uncurls from his tight ball, as he lifts his head and rubs at his eyes, sluggish and confused.

David looks around, bewildered. A lot has changed since he went away. Divad can hear his thoughts: wondering if he’s still asleep, wondering if he’s dreaming. It doesn’t feel real for him to be here.

“Hey,” Divad says, softly. No one but David can hear him, but in a peaceful moment like this, it feels right to whisper.

“Cary’s lab?” David asks, also whispering. “What are we doing here?”

“We’re done with the cell,” Divad tells him. “We’re staying here now, with everyone.”

David looks around, sees his body sleeping on a bed. His body is peaceful, unrestrained but for the crown. The bruise on his jaw is spectacular but it’ll fade. David looks at the cots, at his friends sleeping beside him.

“I don’t understand,” David says, and the heartbreaking thing is that he doesn’t. He can’t. Not yet.

He looks at Syd. She chose the cot closest to his bed. She’s still wearing the compass necklace David gave her.

David rests his head in his hands. “I don’t understand,” he says again, struggling.

“You don’t have to,” Divad soothes. “We’re here. Can you let that be enough?”

David looks around again, and it’s hard for him. It’s so hard. But he nods, accepting.

“Do you want to step back in?” Divad asks.

David shakes his head. “Not yet. Is that—“ He looks to Divad, uncertain.

“It’s okay,” Divad says, gently. “We’ve always liked sharing.”

David smiles a little at that. He leans back against the wall, his body opening up more. “I went away again?” he asks.

“For a while. Not too long.”

David takes a deep breath, lets it out. “What time is it?”

“Almost dawn,” Divad says, and gestures to the window. “Why don’t you go see?”

David freezes, going so still. It breaks Divad’s heart, the way David is afraid to let himself hope. Divad blames himself for that. Dvd was right, of course. Divad was afraid to let them hope, because it hurt too much to have those hopes shattered again and again. But he went too far the other way and dragged David down with him. Too much despair is even worse than heartbreak.

David makes a faltering move, then another. He gets to his feet, walks towards the hexagon of pale light at the far wall.

The dawn breaks, orange-pink from the dirt of the city air. It’s imperfect and messy and beautiful. David watches it and Divad can feel the way it wakes the pain in his heart. But it’s a needed pain, a good pain. It’s a start, however small.

Divad reaches into their body and nudges Dvd awake. Their eyes flutter open and Divad presses a finger to his lips, cautioning Dvd from making any noise. The two of them watch David as the sun rises and daylight streams in, warm and bright around him.

§

David's back, but he's not back back. He's been awake all morning but he won't get back in his body. Apparently he's decided that Divad and Dvd should just keep sharing his body, since they're enjoying it so much, and he should stay some kind of fake ghost forever.

Kerry's not having that. She didn't punch Dvd in the face, which meant punching David in the face, and then cry about it, just so David could hide in some invisible sulk.

"I don't want to push him," admits Divad, quietly, as if David isn't right in the room with them and can’t hear everything they're saying.

"Where is he now?" Kerry demands, looking around the lab. "I'll push him."

Cary looks up from where he's checking on Oliver and sighs.

"Still by the window," Divad says. "Let's just-- Give him some more time."

"No," Kerry says. She turns to the window, hoping she's looking at the right spot. "It's lunchtime, and I'm not eating lunch if you won't eat lunch. We did all this work to make you feel better. You need to get back in your body so you can appreciate it."

Divad listens. "He says he's already very grateful," he relays. "And that we've already done more than he deserves."

Kerry rolls her eyes. "You have to make him come back," she tells Divad.

"I'll try again," Syd says, putting aside the psychology book she's been reading. She goes over to the window, then looks to Divad. Divad waves her to stand back a foot, so she does. "David, you have to come back. We can't help you if you won't talk to us."

Divad shakes his head. David hasn't been willing to talk to Syd all morning. According to Divad, he hasn't wanted to talk much at all to anyone. He's just sat by the window and felt bad about everything.

Kerry supposes it makes sense. Before David disappeared, all he was doing was sitting around and feeling bad about everything. But it was a lot easier for her to deal with that when she could look him in the eye and yell at him. Now she can only yell in his general direction and it doesn't have the same effect.

"Let's have lunch anyway," Cary says, ever the peacemaker. "Maybe seeing us eat will make him hungry."

"He didn't want waffles," Kerry reminds him. "David always wants waffles."

"Yes, that was disconcerting," Cary admits. He looks to Divad. "Are you sure you can't--" He makes a pushing gesture. "Encourage him?"

"I don't think forcing David to do anything is a good idea," Divad says. Then he pauses, listening. "Dvd says to just leave David alone. He says--" He rolls his eyes, but continues. "He says David's probably mad about you punching him."

Kerry hesitates. "Is he?"

"No, but Dvd is," Divad says.

Syd rubs her forehead. "David, please. We just want you to get better."

Divad sighs.

"What?" Syd asks.

"Getting better is--" Divad winces. "He says he's never going to get better, and he's tired of trying."

Cary rubs the back of his neck. "When you said it was going to be difficult to help David, I didn't think it was going to be this difficult."

Divad gives a long-suffering sigh. "Okay, switch." Divad closes his eyes, and Dvd opens them.

"Leave him alone," Dvd growls at Syd. "He doesn't want to talk to you. He doesn't want to talk to anyone."

"What does he want?" Kerry challenges.

Dvd looks pained. "You know what he wants."

Kerry crosses her arms. David still wants to die. She thought she got him to apologize for that but she realizes now that she should have been more specific. "Well, he can't," she says, angrily. "Tell him he can't."

Dvd narrows his eyes at her. "No."

"You're supposed to be helping us."

"No, I'm supposed to be helping David. All you're doing is annoying him."

"Maybe he needs to be annoyed."

"Maybe you need to fuck off!"

Kerry glares at Dvd, and then delivers him a sharp kick in the shin.

Dvd leaps back, grabbing his shin. "What the hell!"

"David, if you don't get back in your body right now, I'm gonna keep kicking Dvd."

Dvd looks at the window and has some kind of silent exchange with David. Kerry steps forward and kicks him on the other shin.

"Brat!" Dvd shouts, wincing.

"Oh, you want more of that?" Kerry challenges. She puts on a thoughtful pose. "Hm, left or right this time?"

"Wait, wait!" Dvd holds up his hand, closes his eyes. They stay closed for almost a whole minute. And then just when Kerry is about to deliver another kick, they open again.

It's David. Finally.

"Ow," David says, bending down to rub both shins. "That really hurts!"

By the window, Syd gives a strained laugh. "I should have thought of that."

David straightens and winces, rubs at his bruised jaw. "Happy now?" he grumbles. He starts for the window, but sees Syd and turns around and walks over to his bed. He lies down, adjusts his pillow, and curls up around himself.

Oh.

Kerry feels bad now. But she's not giving up that easy. "You still have to eat lunch," she tells him.

David doesn't respond. This isn’t much of an improvement, if she's honest. Now she can see him sulking, but he's still sulking.

Now that he's back in his body, everyone decides to give him some space. After they've all eaten, Kerry brings him a plate of dumplings. She made sure they got soft food for him because his jaw's gonna hurt for a while.

“You have to eat to stay alive,” she reminds him. “If you starve yourself that’s suicide. You’re not allowed to do that, remember?”

Kerry doesn’t care that Farouk threatened to torture them all forever if David kills himself. But David does. It’s the one thing that gets through to him, besides kicking Dvd in the shins.

David sits up and half-heartedly eats the dumplings. Then he lies back down and curls up again.

Kerry thinks about all of this. Maybe David doesn’t care about himself anymore. But he must still care about them or he’d still be invisible.

She sits down in one of the chairs next to his bed, looks at him, and does what Cary does all the time. She thinks, and keeps thinking until she reaches a conclusion.

"I'm sorry I punched Dvd's face," she says to him. "Cause it's your face, too. It must really hurt. He deserved it but you don't. So I'm sorry. And I'm sorry for kicking you."

David makes a small noise. It's not much, but it's a start. She plows on.

"You must have been pretty scared to go away like that. I was worried you weren't going to come back. Divad and Dvd said you would, but-- If you didn't, it would've been my fault."

David looks up at her. "No," he says, softly, and looks down again. "It's--"

When he doesn't continue, she does. "And then you woke up somewhere else. That's scary, too. It makes you feel like-- Like you're not even there. You're just a passenger. It makes you not want to come out at all, because you're not-- It's not your life." She takes a shaky breath. "And then it's easier to let it not be your life at all."

Across the lab, Cary is watching her. They've never talked about any of this. She didn't want to. But she has to now, because she's the only one who understands what David's going through. She's the only one.

David's looking at her again, and he's not looking away. She keeps going, knowing they're close to what they need.

"Being alive hurts," she says, honestly. "It's scary, being-- Outside, all the time. With people. Staying alive, eating, it's all-- It's a lot of work. Sometimes all I want to do is go back into Cary and never come out again. But I don't because-- Because I spent so long hiding inside him that I missed a lot of good things, too."

Cary's so old, now. He's so old and she's not. She promised to punch death in the face for him, but deep in her heart she knows death isn't something she can punch. Punching Dvd only meant she punched David, too.

"I think," she says, gathering her courage. "I think everything hurts. Your jaw. Your shins. The crown. I think everything hurts and you just want it to stop hurting."

David's eyes are wet now, and he's looking at her like he's starving for every word.

"That's what we want," she says. "We want to help you stop hurting. But you have to stop hurting yourself. If you do that, you won't need the crown, okay? You won't need a kick in the shins and you won't need me to punch you in the face again."

David lets out another noise, something between a sob and a laugh. A few tears track down his face. "It hurts," he says, admits, quietly pleads for her to understand.

"Yeah," she agrees. "It's gonna hurt. It hurt when I got shot. There was a bullet sitting in my chest, and even after Cary dug it out, I didn't even want to breathe because every time I breathed it hurt so much. And I couldn't go away, I couldn't hide because if I did it would have hurt Cary, too. So you're gonna hurt and we're gonna hurt and everything's gonna suck for a while. But we'll get through it together and it's gonna get better again. That's the truth."

There's a little spark of hope in his eyes, but there's fear, so much fear trying to drown it out. "I can't," he says.

God, this is hard. She can do this. She has to do this.

"You can," she tells him. "You have to. Because we need you. We-- We love you, and if you give up, that's gonna hurt us worse than anything Farouk could ever do to us. So if you need something to fight for, fight for us. Stay alive because we want you to stay alive, not because he does."

David closes his eyes and turns away, rolls onto his back. He takes gasping breaths as more tears spill down his face. He must be in so much awful, awful pain, worse than ten bullet wounds. Worse than a hundred. Maybe it's not that he wants to die. Maybe he just feels like he's already dying, and every breath hurts worse than the one before it. Maybe what they have to do is help him breathe so they can get the bullets out and sew him up.

"She's right."

Kerry turns to see Syd standing at the end of the bed. When David sees her, his face crumples.

Syd comes over and sits next to Kerry. "David," she says, gently. "I know what he's done to you. I know you're-- You're so afraid it's all going to be the same. That you're trapped, that no matter what you do, no matter how hard you fight, it won’t make a difference. He has you in his grip so tight you're never going to get away. That was the truth for a long, long time. But it's not true anymore because we got him out of you. Whatever else happened since that day, we got him out of your body, and that's-- It wasn't enough, god it wasn't, but it's everything. It means this isn't going to be like before. It means you have a chance. That's something you never had before."

David shakes his head.

"You never had a chance," Syd says, kindly. "He only let you think you did so it would hurt more every time you failed. I know that you're afraid. You've had to put yourself back together so many times, just so he could break you. But even that was never your choice. Everything he did to you, if you couldn't come back from it, he would just make you forget. And he made you forget so much."

Syd pauses, visibly shaken by the horror of that.

"We love you," she says, imploring him. "That means we wouldn't put you through that again for nothing. We wouldn't make you suffer if there wasn't any hope. For the first time, you can truly make the choice to get better. We'll be here with you, fighting every step of the way, but you have to take that first step. You, David. You're the only one who can do that. And you can do it, because you are here and alive and you have that choice."

The whole time Syd talked, David kept crying, but he was listening, too. Kerry could see him trying so hard to hear them, to believe them. With a great rush of relief, she realizes that he truly doesn't want to die. He doesn't. He's just so afraid.

Kerry stands up and hugs him. David startles, not expecting that at all, but she doesn't care. She just hugs him tighter. She knows Syd can't hug him so she has to hug him for both of them, for everyone.

She keeps hugging him until he hugs her back. She keeps hugging him, and he breathes out, breathes in. He keeps breathing.

Chapter 15: Day 4: He’s just a passenger along for the ride. (David)

Chapter Text

The first step. That’s what he has to take. And he can take it because he’s here, here’s alive. Because David is still David. There are things he's lost that he'll never get back. But he's here and he's not alone.

David’s not sure yet if he can believe the other thing his friends have told him, if he can accept them into his ever-growing mantra. He’s not sure he can believe that this time is different. Even if Farouk is out of his body, he’s still as determined as ever to control every aspect of David’s life. He’s still able to influence him, to manipulate him, to take away every other option until David has no choice but to choose exactly what Farouk wants him to choose.

David doesn’t want to try to get better if that only means giving Farouk what he wants. He doesn’t want to be whole if that means being broken all over again, if that means he won’t be able to stop himself from becoming whatever monster Farouk wants to turn him into. He doesn’t want to be someone who hurts other people, whether it’s his own choice or not.

He doesn’t want to. But when has it ever mattered what he wants? He’s not allowed to die, and he can’t suffer without making everyone who cares about him suffer, too. Just like before, he’s had every other option taken away from him. So he has to take the first step. He has to get better, even if getting better terrifies him in so many different ways.

After Syd and Kerry finished taking away his choice to stay broken, he asked for his notebook back. Of course they gave it to him, thinking it was a good sign, a positive sign that he’s ready to get better. They even left him alone to write down his thoughts in peace.

But he still only has one thought, so that’s all he’s writing. David, David, David, David, David. No variation this time. He just writes his name as neatly as he can, his hand steady because Divad keeps it from shaking. This is the only thing he can truly choose to do, the only thing he can control. It helps him remember that he exists when everything is trying to erase him.

He’ll have to ask for another notebook soon. He’s filled up half of this one already, and he’s only been physically able to write for half of the past two days. Part of that lost time he spent in a terrifying absence, and the other part he spent where he wants to be right now: away from his body, away from the pain it holds, away from the heaviness of living in the world.

Kerry was right. It’s hard being alive. It’s so, so hard. He doesn’t want to go away again, but god, he doesn’t want to be alive either. Not if it’s just going to be this forever: pain and fear and agonizing dread, the future always barreling towards him like a freight train and he’s tied to the tracks.

He would kill himself. Even if that’s a kind of going away, he would do it. Because his existence isn’t worth the price everyone else has paid and is paying and will continue to pay. He isn’t worth the world. He’s not even worth a third of a person.

But he can’t. So he keeps writing.

Ptonomy comes back to the lab. He’s been busy with something, no one’s told David what. It doesn’t matter if he knows or not. He doesn’t get choices, so it can’t matter if he knows anything. He’s just a passenger along for the ride.

Divad and Dvd have been giving him space, too. They’ve gone invisible again now that this latest crisis is over. He still feels them, especially Divad, silently urging him away from the mental cliff he’s been staring down at all afternoon. But David hasn’t jumped. He’s not allowed to jump. So there’s nothing for Divad or any of them to worry about. He’s doing what they want him to do, what all of them want him to do, including Farouk. He’s existing. He’s breathing. He’s in his body, experiencing it and all the ways it hurts him.

He’s trying to give them what they want, Divad and Dvd and Kerry and Syd and Cary and Ptonomy. He doesn’t want to hurt them with his suffering. So he’s trying, he truly is. But god, he wishes that first step was off the cliff and not away from it.

Ptonomy’s Vermillion pulls up a chair next to the window David is sitting beside. It sits down, posture unnaturally perfect, and stares at him. David accepts this latest inevitability and closes the notebook, sits up from his slump.

“How are you feeling?” Ptonomy asks.

David shrugs. “I’m here.” It’s the best answer he can give. It’s what they want from him.

Ptonomy accepts it. “So what have you been writing? Can I see?”

David doesn’t want to share it, but it doesn’t matter what he wants. He hands over the notebook, waits as Ptonomy flips through it. It hardly matters how crazy it makes him look when he’s irrevocably insane. What are they going to do, drug him? Lock him up? It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter.

Ptonomy hands the notebook back. “You’ve written a lot. Has it helped?”

David shrugs again. “It’s something to do.” He looks across the room. Syd is reading a book about all the ways crazy people like him are broken. Kerry is up in the loft beating something up. Cary is at his computers, doing something David will never understand.

“I guess I should find a better hobby,” David says, looking down. Vermillion have strangely perfect knees.

“Maybe stick with this one for a while,” Ptonomy says. “You’ve filled a lot of pages. It’s obviously meaningful to you. What do you think about when you write?”

Everything. “Nothing,” David says, and looks out the window. “It just—“ He looks at the buildings, full of normal people, living their normal lives. He wonders what it’s like to have a job in an office. He’s never had a real job. He did a few things while he was in school, and then when he was expelled from college he scraped by doing menial labor while Amy paid his bills. But he’s never tried to be more than he was. He was a mental patient, a drug addict, and then he wasn’t anything at all. He just existed, doing what he was told, taking what he was told to take, saying what he was supposed to say. Yes, Doctor Kissinger, I’m feeling much better now.

David’s always been such a liar.

“Just what?” Ptonomy prompts, pulling David back from his thoughts.

David shakes his head. “Nothing. It’s just my name.”

“Names are meaningful,” Ptonomy says. “They’re part of what makes our identities. They’re how people relate to us. If you had a different name, your life might have taken a different path.”

David very much doubts that. “It’s probably not even my real name. My birth name.”

“That’s right, you were adopted.”

“If you could call it that.”

“What would you call it?”

He was dumped. Shoved into the first of many holes by people who claimed to love him, or presumably they claimed to. He’ll never know if his real parents loved him or not, just like he’ll never know his birth name. “They got rid of me,” he says, finally. “Maybe it was to protect me from Farouk, I don’t know. If that was why, it didn’t work.”

“No,” Ptonomy agrees. “So they gave you up for nothing.”

“Maybe they didn’t want me at all,” David says. His rational mind tried to talk him out of that idea, but— It would make sense, that they didn’t want him.

“Do you want to try to find them?”

The question startles David, even though he’s asked it to himself many times over the past weeks. “I don’t— I don’t even know if they’re still alive. It was thirty years ago. Thirty-one.” He keeps forgetting about that missing year. His birthday doesn’t match his age anymore. Not that it was even his real birthday. He doesn’t know what that is either.

God, he’s just— There’s nothing real in his life. Nothing he can hold on to. He barely exists at all. He’s just fragments, ragged scraps of nonsense badly sewn together. How is this ever going to work? They want him to get better, but there’s no ‘him’ to get better.

“David?”

“I don’t—“ David swallows. “I don’t think I can do this.”

“Find your parents?”

David presses his fingers to his face. “Exist.”

“You already exist,” Ptonomy says. “Whether you want to or not. Existence isn’t something we choose. It’s something that happens.”

“Does it?” David asks, genuinely. “Because I don’t— I’m not a— a person. I’m not even— I don’t have anything real, I don’t know who I am, I don’t know what I’m even supposed to be.”

“You don’t have to be anything more than everyone else,” Ptonomy says, in that mix of soothing and angry. “You just have to be yourself.”

“And who is that, exactly? David the boy who grew up in a house in the country? David the— the victim, with Farouk in my head making me crazy? David the broken mind, who’s so fucked that he thinks he’s three people at once?”

“Why not all of that?”

David breathes out, sharp with frustration. “I don’t remember so much of my life. Even before— Even before. I tried so hard to— to make myself a person. And I failed. Now I know just how much more I’ve forgotten and— If there’s a jigsaw puzzle, 500 pieces on the box, but you buy it and take it home and inside it’s just, what, thirty pieces? Fifteen? You’d take it back to the store and yell at them for selling you garbage. And then they’d throw it out.”

“And that’s what you think you are? Garbage?”

“Yes,” David answers, without hesitation. “When a plate breaks, you don't fix it. You just get another plate.”

Ptonomy doesn’t reply to that. What is there to say? It’s a truth David has known about himself for a long, long time, since long before he tied a knot in an extension cord. It’s just the truth.

“So you want us to get another David?” Ptonomy asks, finally. “Should we go to the David store, pick up a few spares just in case we break the new David, too?”

“There’s already two extra Davids.”

“They’re not Davids. They’re Divad and Dvd.”

“Semantics.”

“No. You want to talk about names? Those are their names, Divad and Dvd. Not David One and David Two. They have their own names because they’re other people. They can’t replace you.”

“Then maybe no one should. What good have I ever done for anyone? What have I given back to the world? I spent years ruining everything I touched. I hurt my parents, I hurt Amy, I got her— I got expelled and I got high and I couldn’t even manage to kill myself. And then I sat in a hospital and did nothing. And when I tried to be something I wasn’t, something better, someone worthy of— of being loved and able to actually give something back to the world after taking so much, I ruined all of that, too.”

God, Divad can’t keep his hands from shaking now. David can’t even keep his hands steady with a whole other person trying to steady them. He is worth so absolutely nothing.

“You’ve thought about this a lot,” Ptonomy says. “You’ve covered all the details. You wanted to make absolutely sure that you were doing the right thing in killing yourself. But that’s not how this works. Our lives aren’t about what we take and what we give. There’s no balance sheet. If we judged everyone that way, there’d be no one left but the saints, and most of them were just as messed up as the rest of us. They just have better PR.”

If David didn’t feel so awful, he might have laughed at that. But he feels awful.

“You, David, have worth. Not because of anything you did or didn’t do, but because you’re you. You’re a person, not a plate, not a jigsaw puzzle. A person, and the thing about being a person is that no one has it right. I’ve walked through hundreds of minds and I know for a fact that every single person out there is just as scared and screwed-up and imperfect as you. Does that make them worthless?”

David tries to answer, but nothing comes.

“You are not a collection of memories,” Ptonomy continues. “You are who you are now, the choices you make now. You are a part of the people who love you, and if you dismiss yourself then you dismiss them. You can’t hold yourself separate from the world for judgement. You have always been a part of it and every good and bad thing it contains. That list you just rattled off? Where’s everyone else in that? Forget about Farouk and what he did to you. Your birth parents gave you away. Your family couldn’t help you when you were suffering. Your school didn’t give you support. Clockworks might have kept you alive, but their methods were abusive and made everything else worse. Even we failed you. We said we wanted to make you whole, but we couldn’t see past your powers. We put stopping Farouk entirely on your shoulders when you’re the last person who should have to bear that weight. We failed you. Does that make any of us worthless? Should we all kill ourselves too? Are we just one big pile of broken plates? Why shouldn’t we be replaced?”

David gapes at him, completely at a loss. No one has ever— He feels like he’s been knocked flat but he’s still sitting up.

“It’s easy to blame yourself,” Ptonomy says. “When you have no control over what’s happening to you, blaming yourself feels good because that means it was your fault, your choices. But that’s nothing but a lie you tell yourself. It doesn’t help you, it doesn’t help the people around you. Yes, you’ve hurt people. You’ve made mistakes, some of them terrible. But those actions can’t be judged in a vacuum. You had a monster in your head making you very, very sick. Even now that he’s out, he’s still doing everything he can to keep you sick. Not just by torturing you, but by twisting your thoughts, turning them against you, the way he always has. In another life, where he never found you, where you grew up healthy and safe? All those things you blame yourself for, would you have done them without him?”

Ptonomy waits for an answer.

“I— No,” David says, because god, no, he never wanted any of it.

“Then that’s who you are. That’s who David is. You need a foundation to build your new life on? That’s your foundation. So write it down. Open your notebook and write it down.”

David can only comply. He opens the notebook, flips past all the Davids to the next blank page. He holds the pen and stops. “What should I—”

“The truth,” Ptonomy says. “David’s truth. Not the lies. Not the story you keep telling yourself.”

What is his truth? What would he have chosen, if he’d ever had a choice?

His truth is—

His truth is no. NO. That’s his truth, the one thing he’s been screaming deep inside for so long it just became noise. No to the pain, to the fear, to being made into something he never wanted to be. No to all of it.

NO, he writes, the lines angry and pressed deep into the page. He writes it again, again, again, so hard he rips the paper.

He’s shaking, but god, god, now it feels good.

“Keep writing it,” Ptonomy says. “Write your name. Write your truth. This is your foundation. Build on it.”

David doesn’t answer. He turns to a clean page and he writes. He makes his first real choice, his first step away from the cliff. He chooses to say no.

Chapter 16: Day 4: NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. (Kerry, David)

Chapter Text

It’s hard to avoid Cary when they’re all together in his lab all the time, working hard to keep David alive. But Kerry’s trying anyway, even if she has to actually leave the lab to do it.

She doesn’t like avoiding Cary. She likes it even less than avoiding David. She’s not even mad at Cary like she was when she avoided him last year. She’s just—

She needs to be on her own, for a while.

That’s something new for her, even newer than eating. She's never needed to be on her own. Even when she avoided Cary before, it wasn't because she wanted to be alone. She just couldn't look at him without being mad at him for not being there when she needed him. It was the opposite of how she's feeling now, whatever it is she's feeling now.

She meant everything she said to David. Being alive, being outside all the time-- It's so much. New things keep happening to her, like this new thing of needing to be alone. She doesn't even understand what it means. Before, if she was upset, she went into Cary. And even when she couldn't do that anymore, she still went to him and he still held her.

This is different. It's new. She doesn't know if she likes it.

So of course Cary finds her anyway, following her out into the hall, and she can't concentrate on figuring out if she likes being alone because he's with her. And now she’s annoyed that he’s with her, and that’s even newer, and she hates this feeling for sure.

“Kerry?” Cary calls, worried.

Kerry walks faster. Cary walks faster to keep up with her.

"Kerry?" Cary calls again, more worried.

"Leave me alone," Kerry says, and that makes Cary even more worried. She breaks into a run and leaves him in her dust. But once she's alone, she feels another new thing. Instead of running away, she wants to go back to him. To talk.

Kerry doesn't like talking. It's hard and slow and she has to remember so many words. When she stayed inside of Cary all the time, he knew her thoughts without her having to say them. He talked to her aloud, and that was fine. She never minded listening. Once she started spending more time outside of him, she got used to speaking. She even got used to speaking to other people. But it's never come naturally to her.

She's probably talked more to David than she's ever talked to anyone but Cary. Maybe that's why she wants to talk to Cary now.

She turns around and runs back. Cary hasn't gone far. He's still standing in the hall, pretty close to where she left him.

He's upset. She made him upset.

"Cary?" she calls, and now she's the one who's worried.

"I just-- I just wanted to see if you were okay," Cary says, hesitant. "The things you said-- I'm sorry, I shouldn't have--" He turns to go.

"Wait," Kerry says, and closes the distance between them. Then she doesn't know what to say. She bounces on her heels twice. "Ask me what you were going to ask me."

Cary adjusts his glasses. He always does that when he's nervous. "Um. Are you? Okay?"

"I don't know," Kerry says, excitedly. "I don't know? I'm feeling a lot of things and they're new?"

"Oh! Okay, well, um. Do you want to talk about them? These new feelings?"

"I think--" She thinks. "I don't."

"Oh."

"Yet," she adds. "Because-- Because I need to think about them myself first. On my own."

"That is new," Cary says, impressed. "Well. Should I leave you to it?"

She wants to, but she doesn't want to. She wants to keep talking to him, just about something else. "Do you want to talk about something?" She hesitates, then plunges on. "We could talk about what I said to David."

"That is something I'd like to discuss," Cary says, going all serious, the way he does. Then he looks around. "Why don't we sit out in the garden? Up on the roof?"

The garden would be nicer than the hallway. And the lab is full of people, and the cafeteria is full of food, so... "Sure."

The garden is much nicer than the hallway. Kerry hasn't spent much time in it, despite living here for over a year now. It's an outside thing, and she's only been truly outside of Cary for a few weeks. She looks at the city around them. She's been out in it with Cary but now she wants to go on her own. She's never gone to new places on her own.

"Wow," she says, feeling kinda dizzy.

"It is quite a view," Cary says, and she realizes he didn't understand her. Like David, apologizing for the wrong thing.

Cary always understood exactly what she meant when she was talking to him from the inside. And she didn't care if anyone else understood her. If they didn’t, that was their fault, not hers, because Cary always understood her perfectly.

She wants to correct him, but then she doesn’t want to. She wants to let it happen, this misunderstanding between them. She wants to experience it.

“So,” Cary begins. “What you said to David. I'm sorry, I never-- I didn't mean to make you feel that you were-- You were never just a passenger to me, never."

Maybe she doesn't want to experience too much misunderstanding.

"I know," she says, and she does. She knows it wasn't something he did to her. He's only ever wanted to protect her, the way she's always protected him. "It wasn't--" Ugh, words are so hard sometimes. She's not sure what it is.

"I never wanted you to be scared," Cary says, his eyes mournful. "I don't want you to be scared now. If there was any way I could fix us, put things back the way they were--"

"No," Kerry says, even as she realizes it. "No. I don't-- You shouldn't do that."

That surprises him. "I shouldn't?"

She thinks about it some more, but that only makes her more certain. "You shouldn't."

Cary is entirely taken aback. "Well," he says, adjusting his glasses. "I must admit I'm not sure how I feel about that."

"I don't know either," Kerry admits. "But-- I think--" She thinks as hard as she can, as hard as she thought when she was trying to make David understand that living was hard but they could get through it together. "I think-- If I could still hide inside you, I would. But I can't and that's-- I have to stay outside and the longer I stay outside, the more-- the more things keep happening. And I don't understand them but I want to? I want to-- understand-- I want--" She pauses as something comes together in her head. "I want to understand myself," she says, and it's a revelation.

Cary stares at her for a long time.

"Did you-- Did you not? Understand yourself?" he asks, quietly.

"I thought I did," Kerry says, thinking back. She was the fighter, the muscle, the one who kept Cary safe. And when she wasn't that, she hid. Like Divad and Dvd hid, because they were-- Because they were afraid of being seen.

She was afraid of being seen, even when she was protecting Cary, even when she was fighting.

It was a misunderstanding. She misunderstood herself. She didn't even know that was a thing she could do, that anyone could do.

"Do you understand yourself?" she asks Cary.

"My goodness," Cary says, putting his hand over his heart like she just hit him there. "I-- I think I do. I hope I do."

Kerry looks at the flowers in the garden. There are bees buzzing around them, landing at the centers of them and then bustling around inside the petals. Do bees understand themselves? Do flowers? She looks at the city. Does everyone in the city understand themselves, too? There so many of them. She never thought about how many people there are in the city, in the whole world.

"Wow," she says, stunned.

"Kerry," Cary says, leaning forward. "I-- I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"It's okay," she tells him. "I didn't either." And she didn't. Just like David didn't know he had other people inside him. He was walking around his whole life and he didn't know what was inside him. Just like her.

Just like her.

"Now I can find out," she says, and-- Wow. She wants to find out.

She'd better not find out there's any people inside her. She doesn't think so, but David didn't think so either, and look what happened to him. Cary's the only one who's allowed to be inside her.

Cary.

She hasn't let him back inside her, with everything happening, not for days. He's used to being outside, but it's not-- "Do you need to go back inside me?"

He stares at her again. "I--"

"I know it's weird," Kerry says, because it's really weird, him being inside her. It's not how they were meant to fit together and it's awkward and kinda hurts and it's hard to get him out again. But that's how they are now. It's how they need to stay, or else--

Something else clicks in her head.

Cary's old and she's not, because she hid inside him for so long. But now he goes inside her and-- and that means--

"You need to go inside," Kerry insists. "Cary, you have to!"

"I do?"

"Yes!" She grabs his wrist and pulls his hand to her chest. "Now!"

He tries to pull his hand back, but she doesn't let go. "Kerry--"

"If you don't get inside me, you'll die!"

"Kerry--"

"You have to hide inside me," Kerry insists. "You have to! For just as long as I did, because if you don't--"

She can't say it. But he understands her anyway.

"Oh, Kerry," Cary says, and pulls her into his arms.

She should be-- She needs to be like he was. She needs to be outside so he can be inside. She needs to protect him so he'll never leave her. She should be the one holding him. But she lets him hold her anyway.

"I can't do that," he says, gently. "I can't hide. That's not who I am."

"It's who you should be," Kerry says, stubbornly.

"I'm sorry," he says, but keeps holding her. "You know, I always thought--" He stops.

She pulls out of his arms so she can look at him. He's talking and she wants to listen. She wants to understand.

"It should have been you who was outside, when we were born," Cary continues, quietly. "I was the one who was wrong. The wrong gender, the wrong race. If it had been you, everything would have been-- Maybe it wouldn't have been perfect. But you would have been happy. Our parents wouldn't have divorced. Mom wouldn't have--"

Kerry knows what he won't say. She saw it from inside him, even if she didn't understand what was happening until much, much later. Mom was drunk all the time, after Dad left. She was drunk and mean and--

Kerry was afraid of her. She was afraid of being yelled at and smacked, so she let Cary be yelled at and smacked and she hid like a coward.

"No," Kerry says, angry at herself. "It wasn't your fault."

Cary gives her a sad smile. "It was. Even if--" He takes a deep breath. "I know it wasn't. Melanie helped me see that. But it's still-- These things stay with us, no matter how hard we try to escape them. That's why I've always tried so hard to keep you safe. To protect you. But I think-- I protected you too much. I didn't help you to live your life. I haven't been helping you enough now, with everything you've been going through."

Kerry wants to protest, but she knows it's the truth. She told David as much, and saying it out loud meant she told Cary, too. She nods.

"I'm going to tell you the same thing I told David. There are things we've lost that we'll never get back. But we're here and we're not alone, and it's never too late as long as that's true."

Kerry wants to accept that, but-- "But if you stay outside me, one day-- one day--"

One day he'll be dead, and she'll be alone. Like Melanie. There could be a whole world full of people around her and she'd still be alone.

"We're never alone as long as we have people who love us," he tells her. "And we have so many people who love us. Just like David does. You know how hard it is for him to see that, but it doesn't mean it isn't true."

Kerry nods. She thought David was stupid for not seeing that. They've all been trying to help him but it was like he couldn't see them at all.

But she couldn't see it either. All she saw was Cary.

"I think what David's going through is an opportunity for all of us," Cary continues. "We've all been through so much. Not just in these past weeks, but throughout our lives. We all need support and protection the same way David does. We all need help to heal from the pain we've experienced. These things never go away, but we learn to live with them. And the best way to do that is together. All of us."

Together. All of them, not just Cary and Kerry. Not just Kerry and David.

Kerry likes the way that makes her feel. She smiles at Cary and he smiles back, and everything's okay again.

"So what do you think we should all work on together first?" Cary asks.

"Food," Kerry says, without hesitation. "Every time I go down to the cafeteria, I don't know what to pick. There's so many different things, and I don't-- I don't know what I should like or what I need to eat or what David needs or--"

"Okay, okay," Cary says, fondly. "You know, I don't think David knows what he should be eating either. I reviewed all of Division 3's footage of him and he has terrible eating habits. He's had almost nothing but waffles and cherry pie since he came back. That's not good for anyone."

"Waffles are bad for him?" Kerry asks, alarmed.

"Waffles and pie are treats," Cary explains. "But they don't give him what he needs to be healthy and strong. He eats like-- Well, he eats like someone who's never taken very good care of himself and has spent a good part of his life in an abusive mental hospital."

"Then he's not allowed to have any more waffles," Kerry decides, firmly.

"Not for a while," Cary agrees. "How about we make up a meal plan for everyone to follow? That's a guide for what kinds of foods are good for us to eat every day."

A guide sounds really helpful. "Yeah," she agrees, and immediately feels better about the cafeteria. She doesn't think it'll be so scary once she has a guide. "And then we can all eat and get better together."

"We can," Cary says, and he looks at her like he's so proud of her he could burst.

§

David was right. He’s going to need a lot more notebooks.

He’s written NO so many times that he’s filled up the rest of the pages. Every single one of them felt good to write. He feels like something’s been released in him, something he’s been holding back for so, so long.

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

No, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. No, none of this was his choice. No, he doesn’t want all the fear and pain that’s been inflicted on him. No, this wasn’t meant to be his life. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. No to all of it, to every single miserable day he’s lived since Farouk got hold of him.

He wrote through dinner, eating with one hand, writing with the other. Everyone’s settling in for the night, but he can’t stop writing. He doesn’t even care that it’s making his hand cramp. He wants to write NO forever, to graffiti it on every wall, to write it across the whole sky in massive letters made out of clouds. To carve it into the moon, two giant, gouged-out scars that everyone will have to see every single day forever.

But then the pen runs out of ink. He feels a spike of panic, but Divad dulls it. He’s okay. He’s okay. It’s just a pen. He can get another pen.

His hand really hurts. Maybe he needs to take a break. He stares at the last page of NOs, flips back through all the others.

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

“No,” he says aloud. It's almost the first thing he’s said since he started writing and didn’t stop.

“David?” It’s Syd. She’s in her pyjamas. Her hair is in pigtails. She’s wearing the compass locket, the one that can find him anywhere. The cut on her lips is healing.

It hurts to look at her. Especially when she— It’s like nothing’s changed, like he didn’t— Like she didn’t—

“I didn’t—“ He says, something else working it’s way free now that he’s started.

He’s still sitting at the table, and she sits down next to him. She listens.

He doesn’t know what he needs to say. He looks down at the notebook again. He traces his fingertips over the NOs, each of them carved deep into the page. He’d be able to read them even without the ink.

He knows she must have heard what he said before. About the desert, about Farouk controlling his body, using him to— He knows she heard it. But he needs to say it again, to her, now.

“I didn’t want it,” he says, forcing himself to look at her face instead of the notebook. “He made me do so many—“ He swallows.

“David—“

“No. No, let me— I have to— I didn’t want it. It’s not fair that you were— That you blamed me. Not just about— I was taken away and I was scared and confused and nothing made any sense and you acted like it was my fault, like I chose to leave. I didn’t choose anything! I was— I was taken, by you, by him, I don’t—“ Breathe, breathe. “All I wanted to do was stay and be happy. That’s all I ever— And you blamed me for something I didn’t do, you were so angry. You were right there, you saw what happened, you know that wasn’t— You knew. Why did you blame me when you knew? Was it all him? Or did you— Do you really think that’s what I am?”

Syd waits until he’s done, when he can’t say anything more. She looks down. Looks at him again.

“You’re right,” she admits. “It wasn’t just him. I was— It was a long year, waiting for you. It was—“ She looks up, presses her lips together, the way she does when she’s trying to be strong. “I kept asking myself if it was me, if you’d got free of whatever took you but then you didn’t want to come back because of me. Or maybe you were dead. Maybe I took too long, trying to find you. I tried to keep you safe but something took you right in front of me. I waited and I waited, holding my breath because I needed you to be alive. I needed—“ She swallows. “And then there you were. You were just the same, you didn’t even know how long you’d been gone. It felt like a joke, a sick joke because I changed so much and you didn’t change at all. And that made me angry. I was angry at myself and then I was angry with you for putting me through everything alone. For not changing with me. It wasn’t fair. I’m sorry.”

It’s a lot to take in.

It’s a lot. It’s a whole year of a lot, a whole year that didn’t happen for him. He didn’t see it before. He was so hurt and confused that he couldn’t see that she was hurt and confused, too. He just needed her the way he always needed her. The way—

The way he still does. If he’s being honest with himself. If he’s trying to start all of this only with the real truths, and not the lies he’s clung to to survive.

But he can’t ask that of her. He can’t ask it of anyone, to bear his burdens with him, but especially her.

“I’m sorry, too,” he says, and means it. Not just because he hurt her, because he knows he wasn’t— He accepts that he wasn’t in control of himself, of anything, not then. He was caught in madness and did mad, terrible things because of that.

He’s sorry because she deserves his pain the least of anyone. Even less than he deserves it. And he’s trying to accept that he doesn’t deserve it.

When she— In the desert, when she came to him and stopped him and pointed a gun at him. Something in him broke when she turned on him, when she called him every awful thing he’s always fought against so hard, and then proved how much she meant it by pulling the trigger. He was desperate after that, he lost himself completely. He knows Dvd tried to make him feel better by taking the blame for their plan, and he knows Farouk made Syd say those things because her words were meant to break him.

He still broke. He was broken. His mind slipped a gear and the whole machinery of him flew apart. He felt— It was like a fever consuming him, burning him up. Everything had spun so far out of control, he just needed to pull something back. So he crawled over the sand and reached into her mind and tried to take her back. To undo whatever Farouk had done to her to make her say every awful thing she said. But it was already too late, and all he did was break her the way she had broken him.

And then—

“God, I’m sorry,” he says, turning away and putting his face in his hands. He shouldn’t cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry when he did that to her. He did it. Farouk took away every other choice but he still did it.

He’s lost so much of himself, and he took away a piece of her. That’s what he did, that’s what Farouk turned him into. He doesn’t want that. He never wanted that. He screamed NO with all his might, but he couldn’t do anything to stop the freight train, barreling down until it ran him over.

He’s so afraid of what else he might be capable of. He’s terrified that one day he’ll be turned into exactly what she said he already was. It’s another train barreling down the tracks and he doesn’t know if anyone can help him get free.

God, he shouldn’t cry. But he’s breaking down, sobbing into his hands, his chest heaving.

“David,” Syd calls to him, worried, but she can’t comfort him here, body against body. She shouldn’t have to comfort him at all. He’s hurting her again, spilling his pain all over her, making her suffer with him when he’s the one who hurt her.

He stumbles up from the table, stumbles away. He’s fallen apart completely and all he feels is shame. He’s so shameful, this thing he’s become, the things he did, even if he didn’t choose to do them and didn’t want them and he only did them in the throes of madness. He still did them and he’s ashamed, and he can’t—

He ends up in a corner of the lab, pressed against the walls like he’s trying to hide inside them. He’s bawling, feverish with grief and shame and terror, and he slides down the wall, legs folding under him.

All of it just keeps coming out of him. He’s been blown open, his chest a ragged wound that feels like it will never, ever close. The shame burns hottest of all, like glowing coals shoved into his heart, burning him slow and relentless from the inside until it turns him to ashes.

He’s vaguely aware of everyone crowding together, trying to figure out how to help him. He doesn’t want them to. He doesn’t deserve it.

Someone touches his shoulder and he pulls away from their hand. But the hand follows him. It touches the side of his face, where his own hands can’t cover.

The hand is wearing a glove.

He turns to look, unbelieving.

Syd is kneeling beside him, touching him, her gloves hand cupping his flushed, wet face. She’s crying too, delicate tears tracking silently down her cheeks. She keeps touching him.

She’s never— She’s touched him for real before, body against body, but only a few times, mostly to save his life. He’s saved every moment in his memory because they’re so precious to him. Her hand pulling him out of the pool. Her body covering his to save him from Walter’s bullets. Her fingers against his lips after he caught the bullets, making them land safely in his hand, so he wouldn’t kiss her in the flush of victory.

She’s never touched him just to touch him. She’s never— It hurts her, to touch him. He hurts her.

She’s touching him anyway.

He’s stopped sobbing, but his tears spill out faster, pouring down and soaking her glove. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t— He can’t— She shouldn’t—

“David,” she says, looking him in the eyes, holding his attention. “I forgive you, okay? I forgive you. Please just— Try to forgive yourself. Please?”

She shouldn’t forgive him. She shouldn’t touch him. She should hate him. She should be physically sick just looking at him. Every time she hears his voice, she should want to throw up.

But she’s not. She’s doesn’t. She’s crying over him and she’s trying to help him get better.

He doesn’t understand. He can’t. It’s beyond him. But—

Maybe he doesn’t have to understand. Maybe he can just let it happen. Maybe that’s enough.

Chapter 17: Day 5: Remember the cat? (David)

Chapter Text

David wakes late the next morning. His chest still hurts, a dull ache when he breathes. He feels tired, for all the hours he slept, for all that they were deep and dreamless.

Yesterday was— It was— It turned him upside-down and ripped him wide open and—

He feels sore. Not just his hand from writing, his chest and throat from sobbing, his jaw and his head and his bruised shins. His soul feels sore, his heart feels sore.

If this is what it’s like to get better, getting better might actually kill him.

He probably shouldn’t think of that as two birds with one stone.

He breathes out, groans as he pushes himself into a sit. There’s a glass of water by his bed and he drinks all of it. God he’s thirsty. He must have cried himself into a state of dehydration last night.

He rubs his face, gets to his unsteady feet. He goes to the bathroom and washes up, showers long and hot, and emerges dressed and feeling vaguely human. When he gets out, breakfast is waiting for him, and so is Syd.

He has to force himself not to run back into the bathroom and stay there. His stomach rumbles, so he focuses on the food. He can just about handle the concept of breakfast.

Syd lets him eat. She’s still working her way through that psychology book. He doesn’t like to think about how many diagnoses he qualifies for by now. Dissociative identity disorder. Suicidal ideation. Post-traumatic stress disorder. Anxiety, panic disorder, depression, addiction, traumatic memory loss. At least he’s not actually schizophrenic anymore.

He pauses, mid-chew. Is he not actually schizophrenic anymore? He honestly has no idea. He was diagnosed because of the voices and hallucinations, but between his powers, his alters, and Farouk, he thinks everything is explained. Even the delusions, the confused thinking, the paranoia, his swiss-cheese mind.

Maybe it doesn’t matter what the cause is if all the symptoms add up to the same result. That’s all any diagnosis amounts to, in his experience: just a collection of symptoms. Maybe Farouk is his schizophrenia.

It’s so strange. He honestly believed he was schizophrenic for decades. He was diagnosed when he was a teenager, but got the retroactive diagnosis of childhood schizophrenia on top of that. Maybe he questioned it in the memories he lost. But he doesn’t remember questioning it. It was just another truth he accepted, until it wasn’t true anymore.

His past is like quicksand. He wishes Ptonomy could still walk through his mind with him, help him make sense of what’s left. David didn’t fully appreciate that ability when he first came to Summerland. He was impressed, but he didn’t understand why he needed it, and it all kept going wrong anyway. Between Dvd and Farouk, his mind was a battleground, but he wasn’t allowed to remember anyone doing the fighting. He just kept tripping over the rubble, confused and scared and completely unaware.

It’s no wonder he kept pissing Ptonomy off. David’s mind didn’t make any sense to himself, much less anyone else.

David’s very glad that his mind makes sense to Ptonomy now. He’s probably the only one who actually understands the broken mess of David’s brain. Maybe being the memory guy was only holding him back. He’s the best therapist David’s ever had by miles, and he’s had a lot of therapists.

To be fair to his old therapists, none of them could have known his actual diagnoses, which made it extremely difficult to help him get better. But still. Ptonomy has a way of slicing through David’s defensive bullshit and right into his heart. It’s like being operated on without anesthesia, but at least the cuts are clean and quick.

But like actually being operated on without an aesthetic, David wonders if he’ll survive the shock of the cure. He’s sure he’ll be expected to endure another session today, and he’s already dreading it.

He pushes aside his plate, slumps forward, and rests his head in his arms. He needs a break. He’d ask to step out of his body, but he knows what the answer will be. No one will want to risk him refusing to step back into it again. He can’t even astral project with the crown on. The whole thing makes him feel so stuck. Ironic, to feel trapped in his body when he’s more in control of it than he has been for his entire life.

A hand strokes his hair, and David goes still. He didn’t hear anyone else approach the table, which means—

He peeks up from the pillow of his arms. It’s Syd.

“Did I miss something?” David asks, genuinely confused. Last night he could understand. Syd was trying to save his life again, in a way. He gets why she would put up with touching him for that, even if he disagrees that he deserved it. But he’s not a blubbering mess now. He’s just exhausted.

“You were gone for a year,” Syd says, still stroking his hair like it fascinates her. “Remember the cat?”

“You were swapping with it.” David might have forgotten a lot of his life, but he’s never going to forget Syd the cat.

“She’s my therapy animal. Her name’s Matilda. I practice swapping with her so I can control my power, but the real reason I got her was to help with my haphephobia. My fear of touch.”

David doesn’t want her to stop stroking his hair, so he doesn’t raise his head. Instead he frowns down at the table. “You don’t have haphephobia.”

“I don’t?”

“No, you— It’s just your powers. It’s physical, not mental.”

“I’m touching you now, like I touch Matilda.”

“She’s a cat.”

“And it feels the same,” Syd says. “David, I meant what I said. I’ve spent the past year changing. You’re not the only one who needed to get better. I’m still working on myself. I probably always will be. When you left, I was antisocial—“

He does raise his head, then, and she takes her hand away. “But—“

She hushes him. “I was antisocial and I had haphephobia. And now I lead Division 3’s strategy department and I’m working on my fear of touch. You missed that.”

David missed most of that even for the time he’s been back. He vaguely remembers Ptonomy telling him how each of them was in charge of a different part of Division 3, but he never really processed any of it. He never really got his bearings at all after waking up that day. He hadn’t noticed Syd being in charge, but looking back he barely noticed anything that didn’t center around killing Farouk or helping Farouk or rushing to Syd or Future Syd every time something went wrong, which it did, constantly.

God, everything has been so exhausting all the time. From the moment he got scooped up to now. He feels so utterly done. He puts his head back down.

“You don’t have a fear of touch,” David says to the table, with unaccountable stubbornness. “You just didn’t understand your power.”

“Actually, I did understand my power. I’ve known about it since I was a teenager. I used it. I couldn’t control it very well, but I used it. I told you, remember? About my mother’s boyfriend?”

She did. She told him, and then she showed it to him, in vivid, disturbing detail. And there was the time she swapped with that boy and beat up her bullies. And she went to the club and bumped into all those people, swapping and swapping.

Why did he think she didn’t understand her powers? She even tried to tell him not to kiss her in Clockworks, as he rushed in and did it anyway. He heard her thought, her warning, but by then he’d long since given up on believing everything he heard. Because he was schizophrenic and the voices weren’t real.

Except they were extremely real. Too real. His life would probably be easier and happier if he really was schizophrenic after all, if it meant he didn’t have so many people stomping around in his head.

Dvd grumbles from the back of his mind, not appreciating the insult. David thinks back an apology, then thinks about how completely insane he is to be having casual conversations with himself.

He’s the one who didn’t understand his powers, who didn’t understand anything. He still doesn’t, apparently. Because he missed it. He missed a year and then he missed the rest because he was too busy spinning in circles to be anything but constantly dizzy.

“Wait,” he says, picking up his head again because circles make him think of loops. “You showed me. You were a baby. You hated being touched.”

“Yes.”

“Because of your power.”

“Yes.”

And now he’s confused again.

Syd looks at him with familiar, tolerant affection. It makes David’s sore heart ache a little more. “It’s still not— It takes work, to tolerate it. Habituation. That’s why I need Matilda. That’s why—“ She stops and flashes guilty.

“What?”

“It was probably wrong,” Syd says, chagrined. “But since you’ve been back, when you’ve been asleep. I’ve been touching you.”

David sits up. “What?”

“I needed to practice,” she says, both a confession and a defense. “I didn’t want to tell you until I was ready.”

David doesn’t know if he’s upset because he feels violated or if he’s upset because he was asleep and missed it. She’s been touching him? For weeks? And he didn’t know?

God, what is his life?

“You’re upset,” Syd says.

David doesn’t even know what to say to that. He just— he doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry,” Syd says, wincing. “I didn’t want you to— I know how important touch is for you. I know it hurts you that we can’t even hold hands. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tolerate— But I wanted to be able to hold hands. With you.” She drops her gaze.

David doesn’t know what to say to that either. He doesn’t know where to start, where to end. They’re over, aren’t they? He doesn’t see how they could be anything but over. They’re never going to hold hands. Even if Syd has somehow managed to tolerate touching him, he ruined all of that. It’s done, it’s over, no hope of return.

It’s over. His heart hurts more again, and not just a little.

He doesn’t understand why she’s being so— Why she’s sitting here, talking to him like he didn’t— He doesn’t understand why she forgave him. He doesn’t understand anything.

Maybe he just doesn’t understand Syd. He thought he did, but he obviously didn’t. Even when she forced him to watch her life over and over, he didn’t understand her. He tried, he did, he really tried. He thought he’d got it in the end. But he didn’t get anything.

Maybe he’s just stupid. Maybe decades of psychiatric medication damaged him for life. Schizophrenia is supposed to be associated with cognitive impairment. Maybe his Farouk schizophrenia impaired his cognition along with everything else. Great, another reason he’ll never be safe to let out. He’ll never be trusted with his powers once they realize he’s brain damaged.

Ha. As if he has any brain left at all. Maybe Farouk’s not such a genius manipulator if he’s spent most of his time manipulating someone so utterly stupid.

From the back of his mind, Divad sends a quiet warning. David thinks at him to leave him alone. He’s not in the mood. He might not be allowed to be suicidal, but he can still be grumpy.

“David?”

David snaps out of his thoughts and realizes Syd is still waiting for his response. He still doesn’t know what to say. So he says what he thinks he should say.

“It’s fine,” he lies. “I wasn’t even awake. It’s fine.”

Syd doesn’t look like she believes him. But she probably knows better than to believe him by now.

“So where’s Matilda?” David asks, changing the subject to something he can actually wrap his head around, like the existence of a cat.

Syd shrugs. “She’s around. She’s very independent. She shows up when she’s hungry.”

“Sounds like your kind of therapy animal,” David says, meaning it as a joke but wincing as it comes out rude. “Okay, maybe it’s not fine.”

“Obviously,” Syd says, with a complete lack of surprise. But she softens. “I should have told you. I should have asked. I guess we’ve both been bad about asking first.”

What little remains of David’s brain struggles to process that. “I drugged you and had sex with you,” he reminds her, parroting back her words.

“We’ve already dealt with what happened in the desert. The sex was— neither of us was in any condition to consent. I was drunk. You were in the middle of a psychotic break.”

“And that makes it okay?!”

“No. But it wasn’t— I thought—“ She struggles for the right words. “I thought it was something much worse.”

David feels sick. He feels physically ill. It’s nothing he hasn’t thought about himself, accused himself of. But it’s a whole other thing to hear it from her.

She thought he altered her mind so he could have sex with her. So he could rape her.

Maybe that’s exactly what he did.

He wants to get up and leave. He wants to walk away from this entire conversation. He wants to go back into the bathroom and throw up every last bite of his waffles. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to eat waffles again.

“David,” Syd urges. “Stop it. Please. Stop hurting yourself.”

“It’s not me I hurt!” David says, too loud. “I can’t— How can you just be okay with this?”

“Because I understand what it’s like. I understand, David. You know I do. I know what it’s like to think you’re doing something that will fix everything, but the moment it’s done you realize you’ve made everything so much worse. That you violated someone. That in doing so you violated yourself.”

“It’s not the same,” David insists. “You were a kid.”

“And Farouk used me to make you lose your mind. Is that any better? Is that worse? Think about what Ptonomy said. Would you have done it if you had the choice?”

“No, but—“

“Then it’s not who you are,” she says, firmly.

He feels like he should have some kind of argument against that. He still did that to her, even if he did it because of what she did to him, because of what Farouk did to both of them. But trying to untangle the confusion of culpability is beyond him. He can’t even just blame himself for everything anymore, because Ptonomy cut that out of him before he even knew he was bleeding.

“Don’t make this part of your foundation,” Syd continues. “Don’t keep any of that monster’s poison in your head. If you let it stay in you, it will kill you. It will help him turn you into whatever it is he wants to turn you into.”

“But—“

“No. I don’t want that. I don’t want to let him use me to hurt you again. I don’t want to be the reason you end the world. Neither of us needs to carry that. So I forgive you, and I need you to forgive yourself. You don’t have to do it now, but you have to start. You have to try. That’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

David can’t. He can’t. He gets up and walks away.

§

David sits by the window and tells everyone to leave him alone. He can’t do this anymore. He can’t listen to people tell him why he can’t punish himself. He can’t sit there while they verbally reach into his head and change him into who they want him to be.

He doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t know who he wants to be. But he knows that everyone is still trying to erase him.

He knows that he exists. By whatever definition he can manage to apply, he unquestionably exists. He thinks, he feels pain, he has a body. He doesn’t walk through walls when he presses himself against them. So he knows that he exists, even if he doesn’t want to.

He knows what he doesn’t want to be. He knows a lot of things he doesn’t want to know about himself or remember. He knows and has forgotten a lifetime of things he never wanted to be party to. He knows he wouldn’t have done any of it if he had any choice, and he knows he didn’t have any choice.

But that’s all he’s got. It’s so little. He doesn’t know what else anyone can find in him, not even Ptonomy. If there’s anything left to salvage.

Ptonomy was right, of course. It did feel good to punish himself. It felt right. It’s what the world taught him was right. If he did something wrong then he was punished. His parents weren’t especially harsh, but he was— He remembers being a difficult child, a troubled teenager. They dealt with his lack of self-control by trying to control him. There was so much yelling, slammed doors, cold silences. Restrictions on his freedom. They were convinced that the only way to make him stop acting out was to take things away from him. All it did was make him act out more.

It didn’t end with his parents. The world didn’t like him either and made that plain. He was forced to take medication and supervised to ensure his compliance. He was arrested, sometimes violently. He spent so much time locked up in jail cells and hospitals that the two spaces blurred together, indistinguishable except for the type of violence his captors inflicted on him.

His only solace was Amy. But she didn’t know what to do with him either, except to find another prison for him.

So what could he have done but accepted what the world told him was his truth? That he was broken and wrong and bad and because of that he deserved to be punished. And maybe it was just easier all-round if David cut to the chase and punished himself. Maybe if he punished himself enough, he’d finally learn his lessons and stop being broken and wrong and bad.

He never once experienced forgiveness. He doesn’t know how to forgive himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to learn from it.

He knows Syd is right. He knows that if he keeps hurting himself he’ll never get better. He knows that if he lets Farouk’s poison into his new foundation, it will eat away it away until the whole thing crumbles, and he knows how little effort it will take to break him all over again.

But he can’t forgive himself. He doesn’t know how. He doesn’t deserve the attempt.

The obvious solution to all of this is the only one he’s utterly unable to use. If he can’t be stable, if he’s a danger to the world, then he should kill himself.

But he can’t. He’s not allowed because of Farouk, and he’s not allowed because it would hurt everyone who loves him. And he’s so tired of hurting everyone who loves him.

He’s at an impasse. It’s not so much that he’s been left with only one choice, but with no choices at all.

So he sits by the window. He looks out at the world and knows he’ll never belong to it. He’ll never be part of it. It’s impossible. They’re over, him and the world. It’s done, it’s over, no hope of return.

He hears the soft clack of nails against the hard floor, and Syd’s cat walks up to him and stares at him.

“Syd, please,” David grits out. He just wants to be left alone. Swapping into a cat won’t change that, no matter how fluffy Matilda is.

The cat keeps staring at him. Then she meows. When he doesn’t respond, she walks up to his legs and rubs herself against them, marking him with her scent.

Okay, maybe that’s not Syd. Unless it is?

He picks Matilda up and stares into her eyes. “Are you Syd?” he asks.

Matilda meows at him and paws at his face.

“Okay, not Syd.” He sets her down on his lap and she stares at him some more. Then she stretches, digging her claws through his pants for an eye-watering moment before settling down in his lap like she owns it.

So now apparently this is happening. He has a cat curled up on his lap. He can’t push her off, so he does the only thing anyone could do with a cute, fluffy cat on their lap. He pets her.

She starts purring. The rumble is low and soothing. He keeps petting her and she rumbles like a tiny racing motor.

He can see why Syd picked her as her therapy cat. Matilda is extremely calming to touch.

He thinks of Syd’s hand on his cheek last night. Her hand on his head, petting him like he’s petting Matilda.

He can’t believe she’s been touching him. For weeks. He just can’t even begin to process it.

It feels—

It feels cruel. The one thing he always, always wanted for them, and he gets it and loses it before he even knows it was something they could have. It feels like the summation of the joke that is his life. The punchline.

He could have held her hand. But he ruined everything.

Maybe he’s glad she didn’t tell him. He doesn’t deserve whatever effort she has to spend to touch him. He doesn’t deserve anything, much less forgiveness. Hers or his own.

He stops trying to make sense of his life and focuses on petting Matilda. It must be nice to be a cat. There’s nothing complicated about her life. No one tries to make her do things. Maybe she gets taken to the vet once in a while, and sometimes she’s inexplicably a human being, but it still sounds blissful to David. He never wanted his life to be complicated. He never wanted the responsibility that his powers suddenly thrust upon him. He just wants to live somewhere quiet and green and to not be alone. But he’s never going to get any of that. He just won’t.

He doesn’t cry, for once. He’s all cried out. He just feels sad and doesn’t try to feel anything else. And he pets Matilda and listens to her purring.

Chapter 18: Day 5: My sentiments exactly. (David)

Chapter Text

By lunchtime, David has managed to chase everyone else out of the lab.

They didn’t want to leave him alone. But he reminded them that it’s impossible for him to be alone because he has two people hovering around in his head, just itching for the chance to pop out and protect him. So it’s safe for them to let him have five whole minutes of peace and quiet to himself. Truly, it is.

He’ll have to apologize later for being awful to them. But that’s all he spends his time doing anyway. Being awful and apologizing for it, awfully.

Even Matilda had enough of him, startled out of his lap by his petulant shouting. Good. He didn’t ask her to sit on his lap and purr at him. Now she knows better.

God, he’s in a foul mood. But he has nothing to feel good about. So he’s just going to wallow for as long as he’s allowed. That’s his choice and even if it’s the only one he can make, he’s still making it.

He’s sure they’re all talking about him in the cafeteria. He must be the only thing anyone in Division 3 talks about. The crazy, crippled god in a cage. A prisoner inside his own body, inside a prison built of threats and other people’s love. They must wonder what’s going to happen to him, because it's too dangerous to let him live but it’s too dangerous to let him die.

He needs to know the answer to that question himself. Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe it’s just this, forever. Farouk must be loving all of this so much. He must be bathing himself in David’s misery, gorging on it, fat as a tick.

David hopes he chokes on it.

He puts both his middle fingers up and points them at the ceiling, then points them at the window. Fuck Farouk and fuck the world. Fuck all of it. Fuck everyone and everything.

“My sentiments exactly.”

David’s so startled he nearly slides out of his chair. He looks over and sees to his astonishment that Oliver is awake and trying to sit up.

Holy shit, Oliver is awake. He has to get the others.

“No, no,” Oliver says, moving slowly into a sit. “I don’t want any fuss. My head hurts enough as it is.”

David stands, hesitates, then gets over himself. He pulls his chair over and sits. “You’re awake,” he says, stupidity, but he’s stupid. “I mean— How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been psychically tortured.”

Ouch. David deserved that.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Oliver says, waving his hand before letting it fall limply back onto the bed. “You’ve been doing enough of that.”

“You’ve been— You’ve been listening?” It shouldn’t make any difference, the whole world has been listening to him talk and he’s got three people listening in on his thoughts at all times.

Four people, apparently.

“You’ve been thinking extremely loudly,” Oliver says. “And there’s three of you. I’m amazed I didn’t notice them before. But your mind was much noisier then.”

“How— How long have you been awake?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” Oliver says. “I was resting outside of my body. Like you did. Waiting for it to heal.”

That really is a good idea. David’s going to have to remember to do it, if he gets badly hurt in the future. Assuming he ever gets this crown off his head.

“Could you— Could you see me? When I was—“ Could he have seen Oliver?

“I heard your thoughts,” Oliver says. “The crown traps you inside your mind. You couldn’t see me.”

David’s going to start forgetting to say things out loud, if he’s surrounded by people who are always hearing his thoughts. He used to do the same thing to everyone else, but he tried not to be rude about it. People have rarely reacted well when he answers back their thoughts, whether they were actually their thoughts or not.

“Okay,” David says, rubbing his face. Should he apologize? He should really apologize. “I’m—“

Oliver waves his hand again. “Forget all that.”

David prays for patience. Why won’t anyone let him be sorry about hurting them?

Oliver deigns not to answer that unsaid question. Probably because he’s had to listen to everyone else telling David the same answer over and over again, as if repetition will force it to make sense to him.

When David refocuses his attention, he sees that Oliver’s has also drifted elsewhere. More specifically, to the bed beside his.

Melanie.

“She’s not here,” Oliver says, sadly. “Her mind. It’s not in her body. I looked, but—“ He closes his eyes with grief.

“Oliver,” David says, at a loss.

“He did this. Your monster. I felt him tear her out of herself. I couldn’t stop him.”

“It’s not your fault,” David says, because if anyone knows it’s not Oliver’s fault it’s him.

In the back of his mind, Divad clears his throat.

“Do you mind?” David asks, tersely. “Sorry, not— That was—“

“Yes, I heard.”

That’s— Actually, he’s glad Oliver can hear his thoughts, if it means he can hear his alters. It makes David feel a little bit less crazy when other people can hear the same voices he can. Even if they’re just him talking to himself.

David wants to help, if there’s any way he can. Not that he’s good for much of anything in his current condition. Actually, he’s completely useless. But—

“What did he do with her?” David asks. “Did he put her somewhere, or—“

God, he hopes Farouk didn’t just leave her stranded outside of her body. Melanie is only human, she doesn’t have any mental abilities that could help her get back to herself. Whatever happened to her, she must be stuck, helpless. David knows what that’s like, too.

“I don’t know,” Oliver says, distantly. “But I believe she’s somewhere on the astral plane.”

“But that’s— That’s good, right? I mean, I found you there.”

“I found you,” Oliver corrects. “You were lost in the vast subconscious. Your mind burned bright, impossible to miss. If Melanie is there, she’s only one among billions.”

Well, that’s—

“I’m sorry,” David says, genuinely. It was petty and cruel to do that to Melanie, which is of course why Farouk did it. He lives for the chance to be petty and cruel.

“I’m sorry about your sister,” Oliver says in return. “I’m glad your friends were able to save her. And your friend. Lenny, I believe?”

David stares at him. “What?”

“Ah, my mistake,” Oliver says. “They didn’t want to tell you. Forget I said anything.”

Forget he— “Amy’s alive?!” His friends saved her? Why didn’t they tell him?!

“I’ve already said too much,” Oliver answers. “Oh dear. And now they’re here.”

Ten seconds later, the door to the lab bursts open and everyone hurries in. “Oliver, you’re awake,” Cary cries.

“Amy’s alive?” David cries back, standing up to face them.

Syd, Kerry, and Cary all wince. Ptonomy’s Vermillion and Clark do not.

Those are not good news faces. Amy being alive should be good news. Why is it not good news?

“David, stay calm,” Divad says, suddenly visible again.

“You telling me to stay calm is exactly the sort of thing that makes me a lot less calm,” David tells him. “Wait, you knew about this? And you didn’t tell me?” His own mind knew Amy is alive but it wouldn’t tell him? How is this his life? “What happened to Amy?”

“I told you we should have told him,” says Dvd, also visible.

David ignores him. He rounds back to his friends, if he can call them that for hiding Amy from him. He doesn’t ask again, just looks at them, exasperated.

They all look at each other, like no one wants to be the one to have to tell him. God, how bad is it?

“Amy was dead,” David says, trying to make sense of whatever is happening. “Farouk— He killed her. I saw— I felt her die. I heard her—“ He searched Lenny’s mind and saw fragments of Amy, memories, but he couldn’t find her thoughts. He couldn’t find her.

“David.”

The voice is electronic, familiar, coming out of Ptonomy’s Vermillion. David stares at the android.

“David, it’s me. Amy. I’m alive, I’m— I think I’m alive. I’m in the mainframe.”

Amy’s in the mainframe? With Ptonomy? They’re both in the mainframe? But how did they even—

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

He wants to rush forward and hold her. He wants to stumble back until he’s as far away as he can get. He doesn’t do either but puts his hand over his mouth, horrified and relieved and horrified again.

Farouk didn’t kill her. He didn’t kill Amy. No, of course he didn’t, he’s too petty and cruel to just kill her. He must have ripped her out of her body just like he did to Melanie, but then shoved her back inside, hiding her somewhere so deep David couldn’t find her. She was trapped inside her own body. For days and days. While he ran around like the idiot he is trying to kill his fucking monster and making everything worse. She must have been so scared and hurt, she must have pounded on the walls of her mental coffin and screamed and screamed for him to save her and he was right there but he—

“David,” Amy’s voice soothes, though the Vermillion‘s face is expressionless. “It’s okay. I’m okay, now. I’m safe, Farouk can’t hurt me here, or Ptonomy or Lenny. We’re okay.”

The mainframe. David saw what happened to Ptonomy. He saw the Vermillion drag him away even as he was busy chasing after the hideous creature that burst out of Ptonomy and ripped him apart. He didn’t know what it meant, not until Ptonomy showed up in the cafeteria to help him. But that was how they did it. How they uploaded him. How they saved his mind, how they—

How they saved—

Lenny. Lenny was alive. She wasn’t— Lenny was alive, she saved his life, she— In the truck, after Division 3 captured her, she said she was going to fry if he didn’t save her. He was going to save her. That was part of the plan. Watch Farouk fry, turn him to dust if he didn’t, and then take Syd and Lenny and get as far away from everything as he possibly could.

He does step back then, shaking his head, but he bumps into Oliver’s bed. “Please tell me you didn’t—“

He screwed up the plan. He couldn’t let Syd go even though she shot him. He tried to make her come back, to love him again, but he couldn’t. And then he screwed up by not getting away, and then Lenny—

“No,” Divad says, stepping closer. “David, that’s not what happened.”

“They didn’t kill her?” David asks him, angrily. He’s angry at them, because Lenny didn’t do anything to deserve that, but he’s angrier at himself. He promised he would keep her safe, that he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. “They didn’t execute her?”

After everything she went through, everything Farouk did to her. She got through all of that and she saved his life twice and how did he repay her? He lost his mind and fucked up and let her die.

The Vermillion goes silent, and then—

“Yeah, they killed me.” It’s Lenny’s voice now, coming out of the Vermillion. “Look, I’m not happy about it either. It’s bullshit. But they did it to save me and Amy. We’re okay, man, I promise.”

God, it’s disorienting. Three people in one body. Maybe this is what it’s like when he and his alters are sharing.

“You’re okay?” David asks, inching back from a very, very steep cliff.

“We’re okay,” Amy says. The Vermillion raises its arms, stiff and straight like a zombie, but David would know what she’s trying to do no matter what body or android or crazy thing she was in.

She’s opening her arms for him to hug her. Like she always does. Because she’s alive. She’s alive and she has arms so she wants to hug him.

He rushes forward and hugs her so tight. Her body is hard and unresponsive and it should be awkward but he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care. She’s alive and he can hug her.

When he finally lets her go, he looks to his friends. “We can get her out, right?” he asks them, begs them. “We can get all of them out?”

“We hope so,” says Syd. “But right now the mainframe is the safest place for them. They’re safe. They’re alive. That’s what’s important right now.”

David nods, wipes his eyes. His legs feel like jelly. He has to sit down. He makes it back to his chair and leans forward, his head between his knees.

“You okay?” Divad asks, crouching beside him.

“Don’t—“ David warns. He doesn’t want Divad to take this away from him. It’s his. It’s awful and it hurts but it’s his.

“I’m not taking anything,” Divad assures him. “I’m just asking.”

It’s not like Divad needs to ask. He can hear every thought in David’s head, even the ones he can’t hear himself. He said he knows what’s best for David, better than he does himself. Maybe it’s true. But David doesn’t want what’s best for himself. He wants what’s his. He wants to be himself, even if it’s awful and it hurts.

His whole life has been pain. He can’t lose one without giving up the other. He almost lost Amy and Lenny and— He doesn’t want to lose anything else.

He doesn’t.

“I’m okay,” David says, breathing. He’s okay. Not great, but he’s okay. He’s alive. He’s trying to get better. Because David is still David. There are things he's lost that he'll never get back. But he's here and he's not alone.

He’s not alone. He raises his head.

“Thank you,” he says, to all of them. For saving Amy and Lenny. For keeping him alive. God, if he’d— If he’d killed himself, and Amy— God, he doesn’t know what would have been worse. If he’d killed himself and then they saved her after it was too late to save him. Or if he killed himself and then they had no reason to figure out she was still alive, and she ended up trapped inside herself until—

Okay, he definitely knows which one of those would have been worse. Oh god.

He doesn’t want to die. But he might throw up and pass out. Oh god.

“He’ll be all right,” Oliver says to the others. “He’s just had a bit of a shock.”

§

David has to lie down after that. He’s just— He needs to lie down. So he lies on his bed and watches as his friends mill around Oliver’s bed, as they fret over Oliver and hug him and do for him what they’ve been doing for David all this time.

They’ve been helping him. Saving him. Giving him their love to try and keep him alive. And they did. They kept him alive. They helped him so one day he’d be well enough to start to help himself.

He feels like he’s been in a fever, his body straining to burn out the infection in his mind. And now the fever has broken. And he’s weak and tired and still nowhere near healthy, but—

He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t. And he doesn’t feel like he has to, not the way he did before.

Nothing has changed about the situation he’s in. His mind is still— He knows he’s sick. He knows it’s going to take work to get anywhere near healthy, whatever healthy even means for him. Farouk is still listening in, waiting, planning his next move with all that infinite patience and even more infinite cruelty. The freight train is still bearing down the tracks, as fast as ever, and there’s still nothing he can do to stop it.

Yet. There’s nothing he can do to stop it yet. Because—

Because he doesn’t want it. Whatever it is, he doesn’t want it. It’s not his. He never asked for it. He never wanted it. It’s not who he is and he’s not going to let it happen to him without fighting against it with everything he has. He’s not going to let Farouk turn him into a world-killer. He’s not.

He’ll still kill himself, if he has to. If it comes to it. If there’s no other choice, if it’s between his life and saving the world. He will die and he won’t regret the choice.

But he doesn’t have to make that choice now. It felt like he did, but that was the poison in his mind, telling him that. Farouk’s poison, the world’s poison, his own poison. He’s been swallowing poison for so long thinking it would help him, but all it did was make him so very, very sick.

He’s sick. But he wants to get better. He wants to try. Even if he’ll never be normal, never be whole like everyone else. He wants to try. He wants to try.

That’s his choice. His first true, genuine choice, made of his own free will, with his own mind and a clear head. It feels good to finally be able to make it.

Chapter 19: Day 5: So it turns out I’m a mutant and I’m crazy. (David, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Once all the fuss dies down, Oliver, like David, is left alone to rest. David watches quietly as everyone goes back to their usual places and activities. Cary to his computers, Kerry to her exercises, Syd to her reading. It’s calming, knowing their routines, letting them happen around him. It makes him feel like he’s part of things, even when he isn’t doing anything at all.

The Vermillion walks over to him. David sits up, not sure who’s currently in charge of it.

“How are you feeling?” It’s Ptonomy.

“Um. Better,” David says, and this time he truly means it. “Thank you. Again. For, um. Everything.” He rubs the back of his neck. Thanks hardly seem like enough, when Ptonomy was the one who rescued both Amy and Lenny, when he put them somewhere they’d be protected, when he did all that and saved David’s life, too.

“I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” Ptonomy says, and he must be getting a finer grasp on piloting the Vermillion because he manages to use it to put a comforting hand on David’s shoulder. It’s close enough to actually being comforting for David to appreciate the gesture.

“I was, um—“ David begins. “We haven’t had a chance to talk today.” He dreaded his next session with Ptonomy earlier, but now he feels the urgency of it. He wants to get better, he needs to get better. But he can’t do it on his own. He needs help, a lot of help, and he doesn’t want to waste any more time than he already has. “Maybe we could—“

“David,” Ptonomy says, in the calm tone he uses when he wants David to be calm. “You’ve just had a shock. It helped you a lot, but it was still a shock. All you need to do today is rest. Be with your friends, your family. Just be with us. We’ll start the hard work tomorrow.”

“Isn’t this already the hard work?”

“Keeping you alive was hard work for us. Getting better will be hard work for you.”

That’s rather more ominous than David would have liked to hear, but Ptonomy isn’t one for sugar-coating. Maybe resting is a good idea. He really does need a rest.

“Come sit with us,” Ptonomy says, gesturing to the table. “You haven’t had lunch?”

David shakes his head. He’d been too busy sulking, and then Oliver— He follows Ptonomy to the table, sits down heavily, and opens the covered plate they brought back for him. It’s a bowl, still warm, filled with rice and vegetables and meat and some kind of sauce. It’s comfort food and it’s just what he needs. He takes a bite and the savory-umami of it hits his tongue just right.

The cafeteria staff really do work wonders. He’ll have to thank them, too. Until now he’s barely had anything they serve except waffles. And after this morning, he needs a break from waffles.

He definitely needs a rest. Definitely.

He’s halfway through the bowl before he realizes that none of the others have come to join them. Then he realizes what Ptonomy meant by “us.”

Right. Three people in one body. Which makes six of them sitting at the table, and they still have plenty of available chairs.

David never thought that his life was normal, but it’s definitely gotten very strange.

“So, um. How does this—“

“We’re all listening,” Ptonomy says. “I’m sorry this can’t be more private, but the mainframe isn’t designed for privacy. Just talk to whoever you want to talk to.”

It’s surprisingly similar to David’s own situation. Right down to the lack of privacy. Right, okay.

“Amy?” he prompts.

“Hey,” Amy says.

She sounds like she’s smiling. It makes him want to smile back. He tries to, anyway, but his mouth won’t quite do what he wants. Yeah, okay, this was all a hell of a shock. He breathes, breathes. Amy’s okay. She’s alive. She’s not trapped anymore and Farouk can’t hurt her anymore.

She doesn’t have a body. Which is bad. But David is surrounded by minds without bodies, and too many minds in one body, and minds that can detach from bodies. The whole mind-body problem is— he’s not sure if it’s more complicated than anyone imagined or completely irrelevant.

At least he remembers something from his intro to philosophy class.

“So, um.” God, why is this so awkward? It’s Amy, she’s his sister. There shouldn’t be anything for them to be awkward about. “So it turns out I’m a mutant and I’m crazy.”

Oh yeah, there’s that.

“Oh, David,” she says. She probably means it as sympathetic but it feels like pity, and it rubs him wrong.

“It’s okay,” he insists, all evidence blindingly to the contrary. God knows how much of his mental breakdown she’s seen. Probably all of it, like everyone else. “I’m getting help. It’s all— It’s under control.”

“You’re not crazy,” Amy insists. “You’re sick.”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I said.” God, why is he getting upset at her? He should be blissfully happy that she’s alive. He shoves more food into his mouth so he doesn’t shove his whole foot into it instead.

Divad appears in one of the empty chairs. It’s still empty even with him in it. “Cortisol’s getting kinda high.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” David says back.

“I’m here if you need me.”

David really wishes he could say he doesn’t. But he does. “Okay, fine,” he relents.

Divad does whatever it is he does, and David stops feeling like he has to squeeze his eyes shut and run into things. It’s better, even if he hates that it’s better.

His head clears. He stalls by eating more of his food, and thinks about why he’s upset, now that he’s less upset.

A memory comes back to him, one he wishes he could forget. It’s Amy laughing at him in Farouk’s fake mansion. She wasn’t real. It wasn’t her. It was Farouk messing with him, like always. But Farouk lived in his head and knows everything about him, even things David has tried to hide from himself. He always knows exactly which of David’s buttons to push. And he pushed this one hard.

It’s not the first time. It’s only been weeks for him since Farouk’s fake Clockworks fantasy. Farouk made Amy cruel to him there, too. The worst part is that David knows all of that was meant to mess with him. He knows that it was meant to do exactly what it’s doing now, which is to stop David from simply being happy that his sister is alive. He knows all of that but he still can’t stop himself from being upset and angry and hurt.

Because Farouk always hurts him with the truth. He takes the truth and stabs David in the gut with it and slowly twists the knife, staring deep into his eyes the whole time so he doesn’t miss a moment of David’s pain.

“David?” Amy calls, worried and confused.

“Sorry,” David says, rubbing his face. He hates this. He hates giving that shit beetle the satisfaction of being even a tiny bit right. “You’re right. I’m— I’m sick.”

He’s crazy.

He just wants to be happy that she’s alive. That’s all he wants. So he’s just going to be happy that she’s alive.

He tries to smile again. It still comes out wrong. He shoves the bowl away in frustration and it crashes on the floor.

“Shit. Shit, I’m sorry.” He kneels on the floor and starts cleaning it up. He glares at Divad. “You said you were helping.”

“I’m trying to give you space so you can get better,” Divad returns. “I’m trying not to ‘erase’ you.”

David doesn’t need this right now. What he needs is to get better. What he needs is to be not sick anymore, so he can be not crazy.

Except—

Except he’s always going to think he’s three people. There’s no cure, no treatment. Even if he gets better, he’ll still be sick. He’ll still be crazy.

Kerry kneels down in front of him and takes the broken pieces of the bowl out of his unmoving hands. She looks worried again. He’s tired of people worrying over him. He just wants to be better.

He just wants to be better.

“Hey,” says Lenny.

David opens his eyes, even though he hadn’t realized he’d closed them. The Vermillion is sitting in front of him now, cross-legged, like Lenny sometimes sat.

Only Lenny could make a Vermillion casually slump.

“Fuck that bowl, am I right?”

David unfreezes enough to nod his head.

“Fuck that food too, I bet it was gross. They serve you rotten food here, too?”

Sometimes the meat in Clockworks wasn’t the freshest. It was usually passable and overseasoned to make it palatable, but sometimes David got food poisoning. That’s why he stuck to cherry pie. Cherry pie was always safe. Just crust and cherries.

“No,” David says, because the cafeteria staff here wouldn’t do that to him, not with their carrot suns and smiling radishes. “It was really good.”

He guesses she can’t try it herself, now that she’s dead. Or not-dead. Just like Ptonomy. Just like Amy.

Okay. Okay. He has definitely had a shock. Divad’s keeping his head clear enough to see that. He’s keeping away the panic. But there’s only so much he can do without making David upset about losing his feelings entirely.

David’s so fucked in the head that even his entire separate identity with mutant emotional regulation can’t keep him from being a disaster.

“You wanna stay down here?” Lenny asks. “The floor’s better than chairs anyway. Fuck chairs.”

David manages something approximating a strained laugh. “Fuck chairs,” he agrees.

“What did chairs ever do for anyone? You know what I miss? Beanbags. The really huge ones, you know? You’d sit in em and just sink.”

David remembers those. There were some in the common area until someone tore them open and spilled all the tiny foam balls all over the floor. They weren’t replaced.

His knees hurt. How long has he been kneeling? He sits back, brings up his knees and rests his head against them.

Breathe, breathe. Keep breathing.

This is bad. He knows it’s bad. He focuses on the Vermillion. On Lenny. She’s helping him through, the way she used to. Bringing him back again. He’s really glad she’s alive. Even if they had to kill her to—

“Did it—“ David tries, meeting her eyes. The Vermillion’s eyes. “Did it hurt?”

A pause, and then: “Nah, I didn’t even know what happened until it was over. You should see this mainframe place, it’s the wildest shit ever. No drugs, but it’s like living in a kaleidoscope. I’m tripping out.”

She sounds like she’s telling him the truth. He doesn’t think she would lie to him. Lenny’s never been one for sugar-coating either, despite her sweet tooth. She was the only one he trusted for a long time. That’s probably why Farouk killed her, so he could use that trust against David. And even that wasn’t enough, so he changed David’s mind until Benny was Lenny, too, and Benny was the person David trusted to help him destroy himself.

It worked. All that trust, and then when Syd was in danger, despite his misgivings he gave himself up. Gave over control. Farouk toyed with him for a while, let him think Lenny was helping him. Showed him who he could have been, in another life. Someone focused and stable and fully in control of himself and everything around him.

Farouk gave him the white room. He was riding David, the bridle loose enough to be ignored, when he and Syd finally—

And then the bridle pulled back hard, and then David was just a passenger, forced to watch as his body committed a massacre.

Is that who he’s supposed to be? Is that him, focused and stable and in control? Not the massacre, he hopes, but everything else?

He doesn’t like that him. In the moment it was exhilarating, freeing, but that freedom was the thinnest of illusions. And he hurt people. He hurt Melanie and he hurt Syd. Farouk tricked him from the start: Syd wasn’t even in danger at all. And because of him, Walter got away and Kerry got shot.

David doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He doesn’t want to be the cause of so much pain, even if most of it is his own. He just wants to be better. He doesn’t want to die so he has to get better.

It’s just all so much. All of it. It’s all so much and he has so far to go, and even if he makes it he’ll still never be—

“What’s— What’s going to happen to me?” He asks. He doesn’t know who he’s asking. Anyone.

Ptonomy takes control back, and the Vermillion’s posture changes. “You don’t have to worry about that now. We’re just taking this one step at a time.”

“But I’ll never be—“ How can he get better if he’ll never get better?

“Never be what? Normal?”

David nods.

“You don’t have to be. You just have to be yourself. I’ve helped a lot of people like you. Your situation is complicated but that doesn’t mean you can’t be stable, happy, in the right environment, with the right support. It doesn’t mean you can’t give back. That’s what Oliver’s dream was about. A place for complicated people to get better and get the chance to give something back.”

“Sounds nice,” David says, because it does. It was nice in Summerland, with all that green. It was noisy, with so many powerful minds so close together, thinking loud thoughts, but it was peaceful, too. He wishes he could go back there, but it’s gone. He helped kill it by urging everyone to work with Division 3 to stop Farouk. And besides that, Melanie is gone. Oliver is grieving. There’s no one to bear the burden of that dream anymore.

“It was,” Ptonomy agrees. He stands up and holds out the Vermillion’s hand. David takes it and lets the android pull him up. He wobbles and sits down again, but at least this time he’s in a chair.

“I hope this is worth it,” David says, quietly but not to himself.

“You have always been worth the trouble, David. Everyone is. That’s why we found you and tried to help you. Yes, because of your powers. But also because that’s what we do. What we used to do. Maybe you’re right. This place hasn’t been what we needed.”

David looks at him.

“Oliver and Melanie found us, too,” Ptonomy explains. “They found me and Cary and Kerry, and Rudy, and Syd, and so many others. We’re complicated people, too, all of us. Division 3 was never designed to support us. It gave us the opportunity to give back on a scale we never imagined, but we paid the price for that. So your question should really be: what will happen to all of us?”

David’s heart cracks. “But I’ll never— They’ll never let me leave.”

It’s just like Clockworks. They’ll never let him leave. Maybe Farouk will take him away but Division 3 will never let him leave.

“Do you really think that we would leave you behind?” Ptonomy asks. “Whatever happens in the future, we’ll face it together. That’s what we always did at Summerland. That’s what we forgot to do here.”

David wants to believe that. He wants to believe he has a future that doesn’t end in death and pain. He wants to believe he can be stable and happy. It’s just all so far away. It’s all so much and he has so far to go.

In the desert, Syd said that every story ends the same. He didn’t believe her then, but he was wrong. He doesn’t know what to believe now. He doesn’t see a happy ending for himself. And if his fate is tied to theirs, he can’t see a happy ending for them either.

He has every reason to just give up. That’s still the cold, hard truth. But he isn’t ready to do that. He still needs to try, even if he’s doomed to fail. There’s something stubborn in him that’s never given up, even as he pulled the cord tight around his neck and stepped off a chair. Even as he sat by the sea in his dream and readied himself to die.

“I guess— You weren’t kidding about this being hard work,” David says, as lightly as he can.

“That’s why we’re taking this one step at a time,” Ptonomy agrees. “Nice and easy, okay? Why don’t you go lie back down? If you’re feeling up to it later we can play a game. What do you like? Cards? Scrabble? Monopoly?”

“Not Monopoly,” David pleads. That game is a form of torture that even Farouk couldn’t be petty and cruel enough to invent. But then he is hundreds of years old. Maybe he did invent it.

“Not Monopoly,” Ptonomy says, warmly. “Do you want to talk about anything else? To Lenny or Amy?”

David feels bad about turning them away, but he can’t. He doesn’t have it in him to talk to anyone, not even his sister and his best friend after they just—

He can’t. It’s too much. He’s had a shock and he needs to rest. Just rest.

§

After David is tucked back into bed, Ptonomy goes over to Cary.

“So what do you think?” he asks.

“What does the Admiral think?” Cary replies.

“He thinks that we should do whatever will keep David stable. He doesn’t want us to leave. Division 3 needs people like us.”

“We never should have come here in the first place.”

“I know it was never your choice,” Ptonomy allows. “You came because we came. And we came because of David. We did what we came here to do. Now we need to do something else.”

“You know he’s right,” Cary says, quietly even though David is asleep. “Division 3 will never trust him to be stable. They’ll never let him leave.”

“I’m the one in charge of David’s recovery,” Ptonomy says, firmly.

“Do you really think that matters?”

Ptonomy reminds himself to be patient. “This place isn’t what it was a year ago. We changed it. All of us worked hard to change it. We have to give it a chance to be better, just like we’re giving David a chance.”

Cary crosses his arms grumpily. “David actually deserves a chance.”

“If we all got what we deserved, the world would be an empty place. And that’s the very future we’re trying to avoid.”

Cary relents, but he’s not done. “So what’s next? What’s our ‘something else’?”

“I don’t know yet,” Ptonomy admits. “You were right, it all depends on David.”

“At least he doesn’t want to kill himself anymore.” Cary frowns at whatever dark moment he’s remembering. There are plenty to choose from.

“That’s a lot,” Ptonomy says, and means it. “I think he’ll get there, wherever he needs to be.”

“But can he get there fast enough?”

“This isn’t a race. It’s therapy. I think Farouk was telling Syd the truth before. He needs David to get better just as much as we do.”

“So he can break him again.”

“That’s what he wants to do, but we’re not gonna let that happen. David’s not facing this alone.”

Cary nods.

“We’re already moving David as fast as he can take,” Ptonomy cautions. “The last thing we need is to do Farouk’s work for him. Finding out about Amy and Lenny might have shocked him out of suicide but it’s set him back, too. He’s extremely delicate.”

“I know,” Cary sighs. “It wasn’t how we wanted to tell him. But there was never going to be an easy way to tell him.”

“I suppose Oliver did us a favor, spilling the beans.”

Oliver’s sleeping too, or at least his eyes are closed. It’s possible that he’s gone to look for Melanie again. Ptonomy hopes he doesn’t wander far. Oliver and wandering are a bad combination.

“We have to watch out for him, too,” Cary says, sadly, and then he creases with grief. “I can’t believe Melanie’s gone.”

“She’s lost, not gone.”

“What’s the difference, if we can’t find her?”

“Maybe none. But there’s three minds in here with no bodies, and only one of us is a mutant. Melanie’s strong. If she’s still out there, she’ll survive. We just have to find her.”

Cary quirks a smile. “You sound like Melanie. Which is really quite amusing when you couldn’t stand the way she waited for Oliver.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all been through a lot of changes,” Ptonomy admits. “I used to think sacrifices were necessary to win the war. Now I have a different perspective. Not just because I died. I’ve been watching the whole world from here. The war isn’t what I thought it was.”

“Then what is it?”

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Chapter 20: Day 5: Three little brothers? (Divad)

Chapter Text

While David is asleep, Divad gently pulls him out of their body and steps in. He feels bad about doing this without David’s permission, and when David is feeling better they’ll talk about it, but right now he needs to take the opportunity to check in with David’s friends.

David will rest better outside of their body anyway. Divad gives him an extra push down to make his sleep deep and dreamless. Divad can feel the weight of the burdens their body carries. It’s a lot, and Divad wishes it was a burden they could share. But right now David needs to be in it for both body and mind to heal together, and he needs to be in it to stay with his friends so they can keep him alive.

They need to figure out how to help David. Divad has been holding back, trying to give David space to heal, trying not to make him feel 'erased'. But it’s difficult. It's always been difficult when Divad can't help him, and now that Farouk is gone it's difficult not to do everything he possibly can. But he can't.

He could help David so much more, but David doesn't know him. David doesn't trust him. Farouk took all of that away, and that's why Divad and Dvd both need to trust David's friends to help him. That's why they all need to work together.

Kerry, Cary, Syd, and the Vermillion are sitting around the table playing cards. Divad’s not sure who’s in charge of the Vermillion’s hand. Maybe all three of them at once: Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny.

David’s right, their lives have become incredibly strange.

“David?” Syd says, seeing his approach.

“Divad,” Divad says, waving off their concern. He sits down with them. “We have a lot to talk about. I left David sleeping on the bed.”

They all look over to the bed, but of course they don’t see David curled up there, or Dvd sitting in the chair beside him, guarding him. It's hard for Dvd, too, letting David suffer. Despite everything Farouk did to interfere, Dvd at least has been able to protect them. Now all he can do is sit and watch. That's all Divad could do for years, and for all their arguments he'd never wished that on Dvd.

It's hard to figure out where to start. But then he looks at the Vermillion and he knows.

"Amy," Divad says. "Are you there?"

A pause, then: "Yes. Um. Divad?"

She asks cautiously, of course. She doesn't know him either, but that wasn't because of Farouk. When the three of them shared, or when David went away, Divad and Dvd would pretend they were David. It was easier that way. It was David's life that needed to be protected, his relationships, his school work. The whole normal, unaware world kept going on its business around them, oblivious to the horrors happening inside of their body all the time.

"Yes," Divad says. "I'm sorry I never introduced myself before. Dvd is, too."

"Ptonomy showed me, um-- You're David's alters?"

"Yes. We grew up with you. We've been here all along. David knew about us until Farouk made him forget. We didn't tell you, because-- We had to keep David safe."

Maybe they should have tried to tell Amy. Maybe she could have helped them. But they didn't dare to try. Farouk had already done so much to make everyone believe that David was crazy. No one would have believed them and it would have only made things worse.

Divad wishes he could see Amy's face. She had such an expressive face. Sometimes when he was the one in their body, she would hug him and she made everything feel okay for a little while.

As hard as Amy's death has been for David, it's been hard for him and Dvd, too. She's their sister, even though she didn't know about them. She loved them, even though she thought she was only loving David. They had to protect David, but she protected them, as much as she could.

"Oh," Amy says. "Well, um. It's good to finally meet you." She pauses. "So I guess I should think of the three of you as triplets? Three little brothers?"

She's trying so hard for them, for David. Even though her voice quivers when she talks, her uncertainty audible despite the electronic filter.

"Yeah, I guess so," Divad says, surprised by the idea. He didn't-- David made them to help him survive. They're separate from him, but they're still part of him. They've helped him live his life, they haven't lived their own. But from the outside, he supposes that's what they are. Three brothers in one body.

Brothers. He likes that. He hopes they can be that, if David can accept them again.

"Amy," Divad says, because they need to talk about this. "David-- He got upset, seeing you again. I want you to know why."

If Amy still had her body, she would probably be biting her lip and looking at him with wide, anxious eyes. But the Vermillion is impassive. She's still just a passenger inside it, still struggling to adapt to her strange new existence.

"After you died," Divad continues. "Farouk tortured David with a vision of you laughing at him. He told David you thought he was a joke. That you-- That you put him in Clockworks just to hurt him."

"Oh god," Amy says, her voice horrified.

"David knows it wasn't true, but-- There's enough truth in it."

"I never--" Amy says, upset. "I just didn't want him to hurt himself again. I didn't know what else to do to help him."

"I know," Divad soothes. "When you put us there, I thought it was the best decision, too. Farouk stopped David from hearing us, he took David away from us so we couldn't protect him anymore. Not the way we needed to. We couldn't stop him from--" He stops, takes a breath. "We couldn't stop him either. Clockworks could. But David-- It was hard for him, in there. It was really, really hard. That place hurt him. It made him worse. He resents you for doing that to him."

Amy cries in tight, quiet gasps through the Vermillion's speaker. Divad wishes he could hold her, comfort her the way she used to comfort them. He hopes Ptonomy and Lenny can touch her in the mainframe, the way he and Dvd can touch David when they're all outside their body.

"David wants to be--" Divad says, trying to make this easier for her. "He wants to be happy. He wants to put everything behind him. But he can't, not yet. He's angry and he's upset that he's angry, he blames you and he blames himself. We'll try to help him through it but--"

"Should I--" Amy sniffs. "Should I stay away from him?"

"No, no," Divad says. "He needs you. He loves you so much. He just-- It's going to be hard for him, for a while. It's going to be hard for you. Just be patient with him. Let him work through it. Help him when he's ready."

"I can do that," Amy says, and it sounds like she's trying to smile for him, the way she always tried to smile for David when things were hard. She always tried to help him be happy when he couldn't be happy on his own. "Thank you for-- For telling me."

The Vermillion goes quiet, and then someone else takes over.

"Divad," Ptonomy says. "What else did Farouk do to David? We know that Future Syd told him to work with Farouk to find his body. We don't know what happened when they met."

Divad thinks back. "Farouk was-- Aggressive. He was constantly trying to provoke David. He kept talking about how they were both gods, how David had to leave the kiddie table. Make the rules and take from the world what he deserved. Farouk told him to remove his mask, show his face and be beautiful." Just thinking about it gives Divad the creeps, and his words have a similar effect on the others.

"He wants David to be like him," Syd says. "He wants to turn him into some kind of violent god. He made me think he already was one."

"David didn't want any of it," Divad insists. "He pushed back as hard as he could. But--" This part is-- "In the desert. When he broke. He lost himself and-- and Farouk got his claws into him. David tried to take what he thought he deserved. And we didn't help. I was angry at David, and Dvd was angry at Syd, and-- I tried to keep everyone under control, to make David see that he was sick. But he couldn't hear me, even without Farouk in the way. He couldn't see what he was doing until it was too late."

"And does he still think that?" Ptonomy asks. "That he's a god?"

"David doesn't even think he's a third of a person," Divad says, their chest squeezing with the pain of that. "He's ashamed of all of it, ashamed of what he is, ashamed of being sick. Amy and Lenny being alive reminded him of what he'd be giving up if he killed himself. But he still doesn't think that he deserves to live."

"So what can we do to help him?" Cary asks.

"I don't know," Divad says, though it's so hard to admit. He's not worth a third of a person either, with how badly he's failed to protect David. "There's always been this-- Even before Dvd and I were made, David was already sick. Farouk was alone with him in his head for years, draining him, torturing him even when he was a baby."

Divad stops, unable to continue, and the table stays silent.

Cary is the first to speak. "Farouk was his world. Very young children, they look at the world and all they can do is accept it. When the world is healthy, they learn to be healthy in it. But that's not what David experienced. The things he suffered at that tender age, it's-- It's very common, with child abuse or a hostile environment. We believe it's our fault. We make it part of ourselves. The suffering becomes a punishment, and the worse the punishment, the more we must deserve it."

Kerry puts her hand in Cary's and holds his tight.

"That's why he can't forgive himself?" Syd asks. "Because he thinks he deserves whatever Farouk does to him?"

"I think it is," Cary says.

"He said he was garbage," Ptonomy says. "That's how he thinks of himself. He said he deserves to be thrown away."

"This just keeps getting worse," Syd says, tightly.

"You know what Farouk did to him," Cary says, addressing Divad. "You know what he's been made to forget."

"Most of it," Divad says. "According to Syd, he made us forget things too, but we can't remember that we forgot. Just like David. It's-- It makes things incredibly hard for him, not remembering, not knowing his own past. But if he remembered it would be--" He shakes their head. "He needs us to remember for him."

"Do you have any way to share your memories?" Cary asks. "Safe ones."

"There aren't a lot of safe ones. Everything's-- When Farouk left us alone, it was because David was too broken to hurt anymore. He'd let us help David until he was better, or he'd wipe it all away. Then he'd start again. I can't let him re-experience any of that. A lot of it-- Farouk didn't take all his memories away. David just couldn't live with some of them, so he forgot."

"Traumatic memory loss," Ptonomy says. "It's very common. If the memories still exist, they could be recovered. But you're right, it would be more than he can take, especially right now."

"So what can we do now?" Syd asks.

"Even with Farouk out of his head, David is still trapped deep in his trauma," Ptonomy says. "He's still a victim. We need to help him learn how to be a survivor." He looks at Divad. "I think you're still victims, too."

Divad startles. "Excuse me?"

"You and Dvd. You were tortured right along with David. It might be worse for you in some ways because you remember so much of it. All three of you need therapy. And I think it would be good for David to share his with you. One of the most powerful ways to help a victim is to show them they're not alone. That it wasn't just them. David feels like he deserves what happened, but he doesn't feel like anyone else does. If he can see himself in you, maybe he can start to move past that."

"That's--" Divad's more than skeptical. "You know I'm not actually another person, right? I'm part of David."

"You think independently of him. You have your own personality, your own opinions, your own life experience. You and Dvd are both as much people as I am, as Lenny and Amy are."

It's hard to argue against that. "Even if that's true, how would that even work? We can't all share our body at once. Well, we could, but it'd be too upsetting for David." Farouk really did a number on him with his possession.

"Oliver will help us," Ptonomy says, like it's as simple as that. "He can hear all three of you, right?"

"You're in the mainframe," Divad points out. "Aren't you protected from telepaths?"

"They can't read us, but that doesn't mean we can't listen. Oliver can relay your thoughts into the Vermillion. And I'll be able to hear David's thoughts. That might be easier for him."

"Or make him run screaming," Divad mutters. He's not thrilled with being roped into David's therapy, even if it makes sense and he could probably use some himself. "Dvd's not going to like it."

Dvd looks up from staring intensely at David while he sleeps. "What am I not going to like?"

"We're doing group therapy with David to help him get better," Divad tells him.

"Fuck no," Dvd says, standing up with alarm.

"He needs us," Divad says, because that's the one thing that always gets through to Dvd.

"I'm not letting that thing anywhere near my head," Dvd declares, pointing at the Vermillion. "He's the one who talked me into this-- this--" He makes a wordless noise of frustration and spreads his hands at David's sleeping form.

"David needs to know he's not alone," Divad says. "We're the only ones who know what he's been through. We went through it with him."

"Not a chance," Dvd says, teeth bared. "I watched for decades as shrinks fucked with David's head and made him worse. They're the ones who made him crazy."

"He's sick, not crazy," Divad says.

"Like there's any difference to them," Dvd says back. "If you ask me -- and I know you won't -- the only thing David needs is for everyone to leave him alone."

"If you ask me, you're scared," Divad says, and smirks as Dvd riles.

"I'm not scared of anything," Dvd says, and it's a good thing Divad's keeping David deeply asleep because Dvd's loud enough to have woken him up.

"Chicken," Divad taunts. He makes clucking sounds and Dvd flushes red.

"They really are like brothers," Syd says, in wonder, even though she can only hear Divad's half of the conversation.

"Dvd, Divad," Ptonomy says, like a firm parent. "Please. This might be the only way to save David's life."

Divad and Dvd both fall silent. Dvd walks over. "Tell them I'm only doing it for David, and that I'm going to hate every last second of it."

"Dvd will do it," Divad says, and Dvd glares at him.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "You know, this might be exactly what you two need. Not just because of your trauma. David lost all his memories of you. You're still basically strangers to him. That must be extremely hard, when you have a lifetime of memories with him."

Dvd goes very still.

"Yes," Divad admits. David doesn't know them, doesn't trust them. After everything they shared and endured together, David treats them like strangers and pushes them away and denies their help as much as he possibly can. Every minute of that hurts.

"Even if you won't share your memories of the past, it will help you reconnect to share what you can," Ptonomy says. "What you had might be gone, but this is your chance to build something new together. Like David's foundation. The three of you have the rest of your lives together, if you do it right. If you make it strong."

Divad can't-- He can barely dare to hope for that much. It's been so long since Farouk got between them, since he made David forget them. It's been—

Dvd walks back to his chair and sits back down. He angrily wipes his eyes and goes back to staring at David like he can somehow will him better.

"Yeah," Divad says, quietly. "We'll start tomorrow?"

"If David's feeling strong enough," Ptonomy agrees. "I know all of this must seem... insurmountable. David’s been very sick for a very long time. And Farouk's waiting for him to get better so he can start all over again, just like he always did. But things are different now. David has all of us giving him the support and protection he needs so he can be healthy and safe the way he always should have been. And so do you, and Dvd."

Divad doesn't-- He doesn't understand. He and Dvd have spent their lives hiding their existence from the world because it was the only way to keep David safe. But these people, David's friends, they're just-- accepting them? Trying to help them? They're just alters, stress responses, they're not--

They're not even people. That's what David thinks of himself, that he's not even a person. Not even a third of a person. He's garbage unworthy of love or kindness, deserving only of Farouk's cruelty. Divad had his own part in feeding that delusion and he bears the guilt for that. But maybe all three of them have been sharing it together, like they shared so many things before they lost everything.

Brothers, Amy called them. Her three little brothers. They should have been, but they didn't let themselves. They were too afraid to let her see them. Divad has so many regrets, and now he adds one more.

He remembers what Amy said to them, when she said goodbye to David in the car outside of Clockworks. When David said his life wasn't supposed to be like this, she said she knew, but it was.

Divad and Dvd would never have existed if not for Farouk. They would both gladly stop existing if it meant David could have grown up safe and healthy and happy. They aren't supposed to exist. They're just here to protect David, and they couldn't even do that.

None of their lives were supposed to be like this, but they are. And as terrible as that shared life has been, maybe Ptonomy is right. Maybe things will be different now, because the three of them aren't alone anymore.

Maybe these aren't just David's friends. Maybe they're Divad's friends, and Dvd's friends, too. Maybe Divad and Dvd aren't just fragments of David. Maybe they're three brothers, with a sister named Amy who loves them.

Maybe David can get better. Maybe they all can.

"Okay," Divad says. "Tomorrow. I'll just--" He stands and walks back to the bed. He lies down over David and pulls him back into their body, and then steps out of it again.

He sits down next to Dvd in the chairs by David's bed, and stares at David like he can somehow will him better.

Chapter 21: Day 6: We're all real and we're all going to get better. (David)

Chapter Text

David sleeps. He sleeps and sleeps and sleeps. He wakes briefly, hungry, and eats the food he finds waiting by his bed. Dumplings. He swallows the last one and lies back down and sleeps again, and stays down in the quiet deep.

When he finally returns to the surface, there’s something on his chest. He reaches for it, eyes still closed, and feels something warm and silky-soft.

He cracks open one eye. Matilda is curled up on his chest, her back to him like she’s his own personal bodyguard. Or like he’s her own personal heating pad. Probably that.

He pets her a few times and then goes still again. He closes his eye. He feels Matilda’s weight against every breath, but she’s not heavy.

The past few days slowly trickle back into his mind. Going away and coming back to find everything had changed. Being out of his body and then forced back into it. Accepting that he can’t kill himself, and then deciding that he shouldn’t. Listening to Kerry talk about living. Syd touching him, forgiving him. And then Oliver and Amy and Lenny all coming back at once.

It’s no wonder he was so tired.

And he still has to do the hard work.

He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through it. He’s probably still doomed no matter what he does. All this work, it’s just a hobby, like writing his name over and over. At the end of it he’ll have a full notebook and a sore hand and he’ll still get run over. But he remembers making the choice to try and it’s a clear, untainted memory of a clear, untainted choice. He won’t give up something so precious without a fight, even if he knows he’ll have to give it up.

He reaches up and pets Matilda some more. She purrs loudly and the vibration goes right into him. It’s very soothing. Maybe he can convince Syd to let Matilda be his therapy cat when she doesn’t need her.

“Morning.”

David opens his eyes. It’s Kerry.

“Morning,” he replies, and is suddenly overcome with the urge to stretch. He gives into it even though it startles Matilda. She leaps off of him and into Kerry’s lap.

Hmm. Apparently they’ll all have to take turns with Matilda.

He sits up and looks around. The morning sun is up, and the city noises filter in from outside, mostly muted by Division 3’s thick walls and windows. This place is a fortress, as good at keeping things out as keeping them in.

Maybe he’ll never get out of here. Maybe this is all he’ll ever have. But he wants to live so he has to try.

“Cary’s getting us breakfast,” Kerry tells him, as she pets Matilda. “Eggs and stuff. Eggs are okay, I guess. I don’t have to chew them much. How’s your jaw?”

David rubs his jaw, works it. It’s still sore but it doesn’t hurt anymore. “Better. I think the swelling's gone.”

“Good.”

Kerry doesn’t seem to have anything to add to that, so David slides out of bed and tries to get his bearings. Another session with Ptonomy today, he can do that. He needs to do it.

He looks over at the cots. Syd’s still asleep. She—

He turns away. He shouldn’t even think of her. He thinks about her anyway. He wishes he could hold her hand, but he never will.

God, he doesn’t know how he’s going to get through any of this.

Cary comes back, thank goodness, and saves him from himself. Kerry carries Matilda with her to the table and Cary gives her a bowl of shredded chicken. Rather than put Matilda down to let her eat, Kerry hand feeds her each piece of chicken, one by one.

“I’m practicing on Matilda,” Kerry explains. “We all have to get used to eating.”

“That’s right,” Cary says, supportively. “Nutrition is very important for all of us. Which reminds me. David, we’re starting a new meal plan. No more waffles for a while and no sugar. We need protein and fat and lots of vegetables.”

“Uh, we?” David asks.

“We’re all getting better together, right?” Kerry says. “So we’re gonna eat better together, too. Except, you know, the people who don’t eat.”

Which is— David counts. Half of them. His life is madness.

He digs into his eggs. There’s spinach and ham and mushrooms mixed in, and cheese on top. It’s good.

The smell of breakfast rouses Syd, and she gets up and joins them. Her bed head is— David looks back down at his eggs. His own hair is probably a mess. He hasn’t even brushed his teeth.

It’s— It’s actually—

It reminds him of breakfast with Amy. With his family, on weekend mornings when no one was in a rush. It reminds him of that.

Amy.

He fell apart in front of her yesterday. She's probably worried, upset. She's dead and he upset her.

No. Alive. She's alive in the mainframe, with Ptonomy and Lenny. She was dead and now she's not. They'll get her out again, somehow, when it's safe. If it's ever safe.

If he can't get better, does that mean she'll be trapped in the mainframe forever? Will all of them?

"David." Divad appears, sitting at the table, even though he's one of the half of them that doesn't eat. Has he ever eaten? He's probably eaten when he was in their body, in the memories David lost. Maybe he likes eggs. Maybe David should let him eat, give him a turn at all this existing.

"David?" Syd's looking at him, concerned, and then so are the others. He has to stop falling apart like this. He has to pull himself together. He has to get through this so everyone else will be okay.

"David," Divad says again. "I'm going to help you, okay? Don't freak out."

David squeezes his eyes shut. "Okay," he says, his chest tight.

The pressure lets out of his thoughts like a balloon with a leak. It goes down, down, slow and steady. He leans his elbows on the table and slumps over his eggs.

"What just happened?" Syd asks.

"I was spiralling," David admits. "Divad helped."

"Oh! Um, thank you, Divad," Syd says, not sure where to look.

"Yeah, thanks," Kerry adds, and Cary adds his, too.

Divad looks quite pleased, but then focuses back on David. "This isn't all on you," Divad says. "Everyone's here to help you."

But what if he can't be helped? What if this is all for nothing?

"Then it's for nothing," Divad says. "But I don't think it is and neither do you."

He ruined everything before. That's what he does. He ruins everything.

"You know that's not true," Divad says.

"Quitting before you even start?" Dvd says, appearing in another chair. "Quitter. Chicken." He makes clucking noises.

David stares at him. "I'm not quitting. I'm just--"

"Quitter," Dvd taunts.

"I'm not quitting!" David says, and then slumps back in his chair. "Sorry. Sorry."

Dvd's the one who looks pleased with himself, now. "Good. I'm only doing this stupid therapy thing for you, so you'd better appreciate it."

Divad gives Dvd an exasperated look. "You can't keep your mouth shut for five minutes?"

Dvd shrugs. "What's it matter? He was going to find out anyway."

"You have absolutely no sense of timing," Divad says. "Let him eat his breakfast before you give him anything else to deal with."

"He wasn't eating it anyway," Dvd says. "He was freaking out. Now he's not. That was me. Keep it up and I'm gonna be the one who protects David's mind and his body, and you'll be out of a job."

David turns to Cary. "Is there something going on with my therapy session today?"

"Ah, yes," Cary says, surprised to be addressed. "We all thought it would be helpful for the three of you to do a group session together. You and Divad and Dvd."

David presses at his face. "How would that even--"

"Oliver," says Kerry.

"Right," David says. Oliver. Just what he needs. His torture victim can relay the thoughts of his multiple identities to his android not-dead therapist.

Dvd laughs. "Okay, that was funny."

David cannot, cannot deal with any of this. He shuts up and eats his eggs. He's almost done when a thought occurs to him. "Wait, how did you--"

Divad flashes guilty.

"No," David says, angrily. "No, you have no right to just take my body like that."

"Our body," Dvd says.

"Is that why I slept so much?" David asks them. "Because you wanted a turn?" He would have happily let them have their body all the time, but they wouldn't let him. And now they're walking away with it when he's asleep. They're as bad as Syd!

"You needed to rest," Divad defends. "I'm sorry I didn't ask, but you were-- You didn't need to worry about it. You still don't. I only used it to talk to your friends so we could figure out how to help you."

"Well don't," David says, still angry. "Don't help me. You can all just stop helping me. I'm doing this on my own. It's my fault and I have to fix it and I've always done this on my own!"

Divad doesn't like that. "You really, really haven't. You can't remember it, but you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for us. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't for them, for our friends."

"Our friends?" David asks, astonished. "You can't even talk to them without hijacking my body."

"They're my friends, too," Divad insists.

"You're not even real," David says.

"Well neither are you!" Divad shoots back. "That's what you think all the time, right? I can hear it, we both can. You're not real so it's fine if you shrivel up and die. Well that delusion is over. It's done. We're all real and we're all going to get better. So stop trying to scare yourself out of trying."

David stares at him. What even happened when he was asleep?

"I see you've started without us," Ptonomy says. Oliver is with him, looking rough but standing on his own.

David puts his hand over his face and slumps in his chair again. He's really starting to miss his cell. It was awful but at least he had some peace and quiet.

"Talk about a bad thought," Dvd mutters.

"Everyone, Divad, Dvd. Can you give David some space?"

Everyone clears away from the table, taking their plates with them. Divad and Dvd stay visible, but they walk away with the others.

The Vermillion sits down next to David. Oliver sits on the other side.

"I heard all of it," Oliver says, before David even has the chance to think the question. "So did he. We were testing the relay when you woke up."

"Great," David says, flatly. Now there's five people listening to his thoughts at all times. No, actually, now the whole world is, because the mainframe isn't built for privacy. His entire life isn't built for privacy.

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says. "I know there's aspects of your treatment that make this harder for you. We're doing the best we can with an extremely difficult situation. Privacy is a compromise we had to make."

"I didn't make it," David says.

"Well, I'd like to not be dead," Ptonomy says back. "Oliver would like to not have been tortured. I'm sure Melanie doesn't want to be lost on the astral plane. Should I go on?"

"Please don't."

"I know you're scared," Ptonomy says, gentler. "I know this is a lot. But Divad is right. You're not carrying this alone. This isn't something you have to do to save us. It's something we're helping you do so you can save yourself."

David thinks of Farouk, telling him to play the hero from his hospital bed. He's not a hero.

"Do you think saving someone's life is heroic?" Ptonomy asks.

David looks at him. He was right, he is going to start forgetting to say anything aloud. Who's even left that he should bother? Kerry and Cary? Syd? Matilda?

"Maybe not Matilda," Ptonomy allows. "I think everyone else wants you to talk. But you didn't answer the question. Do you think saving someone's life is heroic?"

"Yes," David says, but--

"That's what you're doing now," Ptonomy says. "Saving David's life. Or do you think David doesn't deserve to be saved?"

David tries not to think his answer. He thinks it anyway.

No, he doesn't.

"That's why we need to save him," Ptonomy says. "I think Farouk's right about one thing. You should be a hero. But you have to save yourself before you can save anyone else."

"I think we all know what kind of hero I make," David says. "I did such a good job I turned into a villain."

"What do you think a villain is, David? What's your definition?"

"Someone who goes crazy and ends the world?"

"You didn't do that," Ptonomy reminds him. "That's what Farouk wants, but that future hasn't happened yet. It never will, if we can save you. So what's a villain?"

David struggles, thinking back over his painful memories. "Someone who's-- Who's selfish and cruel and doesn't care about anyone else. Someone who hurts people."

Someone like Farouk. Someone like David, or what Farouk turned David into.

"You think you're like him?" Ptonomy asks.

"Obviously." Farouk wiped his memory and David wiped Syd's. Farouk tortured him and David tortured Oliver. Farouk thinks he's a god and David thought he was one, before he crashed back down to earth. Farouk lived inside him and shaped him and twisted him into whatever he wanted David to be. Farouk claimed to think of him as his baby. Obviously he's going to turn out just like Farouk. Obviously. He never had a chance to become anything else.

"Is that what you're afraid of?" Ptonomy asks. "That you're going to look into your own heart and find it's his?"

David can't say it, can't even think it. The fear is too huge.

He doesn't want it. He never asked for it. But he never had a choice. Farouk's made him do so many awful things. If David could just die it would stop, but he can't die. No one will let him and he doesn't want to, but he doesn't want what's coming for him. He doesn't want it.

"If you don't want it, if it's not your choice, it's not who you are," Ptonomy reminds him. "Farouk lived in your head for thirty years. What's the worst he made you do in all that time? Mostly he made you hurt yourself. You've hurt other people, it's true. But you didn't do it because you enjoyed it. You didn't do it because you wanted them to suffer. Every time you hurt someone, you hurt yourself. And maybe that was all he wanted, but I don't think so. I think when he realized how powerful you are, he tried to take you over, to make you the same as him, but he couldn't. Because David has always been David. There has always been a part of you that has fought against him with everything you have. No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change that. He can't."

God, David wants to believe that. He wants to.

"You don't have to believe it yet," Ptonomy says. "We'll do that for you, until you can. But you have to trust us. You have to let us help you."

David swallows. "I'm trying," he says. He doesn't know if he can be helped, but he's trying.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "And if you don't want to be a villain, I think you should start by apologizing for hurting your friends. We've all worked hard to save you. I know you're scared but that doesn't make it okay to dismiss us, or to tell Divad and Dvd they're not real. Or to dismiss yourself."

"Should I apologize to myself, too?" David asks, in bleak humor.

"Actually, yes," Ptonomy says. "But I know you won't, so save that for later."

Ouch. David felt that cut go deep.

He turns to where everyone moved to give him space. "I'm sorry," he tells them, and means it. "I'm sorry for saying I didn't need your help. I'm sorry for saying Divad and Dvd aren't real."

He doesn't apologize to himself. Ptonomy's right, he can't. He doesn't deserve apologies.

Divad and Dvd come over. "Apology accepted," Divad says. "So if you're done with your therapy session, can we have ours now?"

David whimpers.

"Take ten minutes," Ptonomy tells him. "Clear your head. Then we'll start."

Clear his head. In ten minutes. Hilarious. David puts his head down in his arms and tries not to think about anything at all.

Chapter 22: Day 6: Matilda doesn't belong to anyone but herself. (David)

Chapter Text

David’s never much liked group therapy.

He never saw the point of it. He already hates the way he has to open himself up in private sessions, displaying every broken part of himself to some therapist for inspection and judgement. But doing that in front of random people so they can pick him over like he's some kind of mental health yard sale? No, thank you. He'd have opted out of it if he'd ever been able to opt out of anything.

He doesn't have a choice about it now, either. So once again, here he is, sitting in a circle of chairs and waiting to be pulled apart and picked over. The only difference is that this time, the other patients are also himself.

Sort of.

"Maybe we should start with that," Ptonomy says.

God, David hates this. He just wants to have some part of himself to himself. But no. He can't stop his thoughts from being overheard. He can't opt out of having them fed into the mainframe. He should probably try to keep his mind blank but what's the point? If everyone's going to listen in on him anyway, he's going to give them the full David Haller fucked-head experience. They can choke on it, just like Farouk.

Everyone looks at him. They're not impressed. He doesn't care.

"Dissociative Identity Disorder," Ptonomy says, continuing on. "Getting that diagnosis upset you."

"Yeah," David says, tersely and aloud. "It was upsetting. I'm still upset."

"I can see that," Ptonomy says. "So tell me why."

Divad and Dvd continue to look at him, but now with an air of expectation. Or foreboding.

Oh god, he can't do this. He can't do this. He can't sit here and talk about himself to two other people who are also himself.

"Is that what upsets you?" Ptonomy asks. "That you feel Divad and Dvd aren't real people?"

David sits up from his slouch. "I'm sorry, how are they real people? They're just--" He taps aggressively at his own head. "Pieces, broken pieces of this broken mess. I'm delusional. I'm hallucinating."

“It’s not typical for DID to present with hallucinations,” Ptonomy admits. “But between your powers and the extreme stress your mind suffered, that’s how your DID presents. As for why? Your powers already enable you to separate your mind from your body. You can hear the thoughts of others. And that’s just scratching the surface. All of that is part of how you make sense of the world, even though Farouk kept you from remembering or understanding that.”

David hates it when Ptonomy does that, when he makes David's insanity into something reasonable. Like he's supposed to just accept it now.

"Accepting it is the only choice you have," Ptonomy says. "Divad and Dvd are part of you. They're not going to go away. They can't. Even Farouk couldn't get rid of them."

"Maybe he didn't try hard enough," David mutters.

Dvd crosses his arms angrily.

"You all have to learn to live together," Ptonomy insists. "Divad and Dvd still remember how things used to be for the three of you, but you don't. Those memories may be gone forever. So you have to start over. But you can't do that if you can't accept that they're just as real as you and me."

"A ringing endorsement," David says. Then he feels bad. "Sorry. Sorry." Shit.

Shit.

"I'm sorry," he says again. He leans forward and puts his face in his hands. God, he's such an idiot. If any of them aren't real, it's him.

"Why wouldn't you be real?" Ptonomy asks. "You're the main identity in your system. Divad and Dvd came into existence to protect you. Your name and the name attached to your body are the same."

God, that makes it sound even worse.

"I don't remember being a system," David insists. "I remember being me. Just me. Broken and fucked up, but me. And now I'm-- I'm not me. I'm not a person, I'm just--"

Madness. He's just madness. Like the black monster that killed Ptonomy. Someone should pull him out of his own head and crush him under a boot.

"Please stop that," Divad says, pained. "Please."

"You told me to stop deluding myself,” David reminds him. “God doesn’t love me, remember? You were right. I’ve always known what I am. We’ve always known what we are, your words. I forgot everything else but I still remember that.”

“That wasn’t what I meant,” Divad defends.

“Yes it was,” Dvd interrupts. “Maybe not the real part, but all you did for years was yell at David for failing. You’re the one who made him hate himself.”

“David already hated himself,” Divad says back. “But yeah, I made it worse.” He turns to David. “I’m sorry for that.”

David doesn’t know what to say to that. “I don’t remember,” he says, helplessly. Plenty of people yelled at him for failing, there was practically a line around the block sometimes. But he doesn’t—

God, he doesn’t know anything. His past could be a complete invention for all he remembers it. Philly used to accuse him of that. If Amy didn’t exist, if he hadn’t been to his childhood home last year, if there wasn’t external documentation of his existence, he would have nothing to say he ever existed at all. But external isn't enough. Maybe Farouk went too far one day and just started from scratch. Maybe David died and he’s just another alter, one Farouk tricked into thinking he was real.

“We know he didn’t,” Divad insists. “We were there. You’re still you. You always have been.”

“No,” David says. “How would you know if he made you forget?”

There’s nothing. There’s nothing to hold him, he’s just air from a balloon that popped and he’s being blown away.

No one says anything. What could they say?

“David,” Ptonomy says, quietly.

“What?” David asks him, genuinely wanting to know. What could anyone possibly say to help him have some way to know he is who everyone thinks he is?

“I don’t think there is anything anyone could say,” Ptonomy admits. “You do exist. You know you do. What you need is continuity. Something to connect you to who you were before you forgot. If Amy isn’t enough, if Divad and Dvd aren’t enough, then you need something only you can provide. A memory.”

Divad stiffens.

“One of your own,” Ptonomy adds.

“I tried,” David says. “There’s nothing. He took all of it.”

“I don’t believe that,” Ptonomy insists. “I think there’s something of your past inside you, just like Amy was still inside after her body was altered into Lenny’s. Whether that's because Farouk left it behind to hurt you with or because you didn’t want to remember.”

“You’re saying I made myself forget?” David asks, horrified.

"Traumatic memory loss is very common," Ptonomy soothes. "If the memories are there, they can be recovered. But I didn't want to suggest that before because those are also going to be the hardest for you. The memories of things too terrible for you to bear."

God, how does this keep getting worse? "So you're saying that-- That the only way for me to know I'm me, is to remember being tortured?"

"As a last resort," Ptonomy allows. "But there's no need for us to do that if there are other memories. Memories you can't find on your own, just like you couldn't find Amy even when you looked for her. They might even be hidden in plain sight. You can only know what they are because you have two people who have their own memories of everything you've experienced. If you look together, you have a real chance of finding something. But to do that you're going to have to let them in. You're going to have to trust them. So what do you want to try? Do you want to recover a traumatic memory on your own, or do you want to find a good memory with their help?"

David wishes it was a choice. He wishes he could do this on his own. But as bad as forgetting has been, he knows remembering his own torture would be so much worse. And he knows that even if he doesn't remember it, he hasn't done anything on his own. He's been full of people trying to help him and hurt him his entire life. His mind has been the battleground of decades of invisible warfare.

It seems like all he ever does anymore is give up control of himself: of his powers and his body, of his privacy and his thoughts. And now he has to give up his memory to two people living inside him who he can't remember.

It's probably only going to make things worse. Whatever Farouk hid in him, it'll only make things worse. But he can't keep going like this, with nothing to hold him, quicksand pulling him down every time he tries to take a step. He needs something solid to stand on, even if the odds are it's just going to crumble under his weight and send him plummeting down the sheerest drop.

"Okay," he says, faintly. "When do we start?"

§

They're going to start after lunch. Ptonomy orders David to take the rest of the morning off to relax while he and Oliver talk to Divad and Dvd. He can do that now that he can hear everything in David's head, since the three people that he thinks he is are independently functioning. David can sit and read a trashy romance novel while his alters have a strategy meeting with his therapist.

If Ptonomy could actually see Divad and Dvd, that might make this whole thing vaguely normal. But he's just listening to them through Oliver's telepathic relay, and then talking back to them through Oliver from inside the mainframe through the interface of an android. It's only David's delusional hallucination that the four of them are sitting together.

Honestly, this whole thing is giving him a headache. Which is probably not a helpful thing to have when he's about to go sifting through his brain. He puts aside the book and goes to rummage through the first aid cabinet. He finds some painkillers and takes two of them.

At least this means Divad won't need to borrow his body anymore. No more sneaking off with it while David's asleep. God, that whole thing creeped him out so much.

When he closes the cabinet and turns, Syd is standing there. David nearly has a minor heart attack.

Speaking of nighttime invasions...

No, that's not fair, even just in his own head.

"Kind of a rough morning," Syd says, sympathetically.

David makes a pained noise. He fills a cup at the sink and washes down the pills. "I've been having a lot of those lately. Rough mornings." He'd say he can't remember the last time he had a good morning, but he has no idea what he remembers anymore.

He remembers Syd. Looking at her, all he can do is remember. The bad things and the good, and the good hurt worst of all.

He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know what to even begin to say.

"How's the book?" she asks.

"It's a book," David says. "Honestly, I can barely concentrate. I keep reading the same paragraphs over and over."

"They must be fascinating paragraphs," Syd says.

She's trying, for him. He knows she's trying. He doesn't understand why she thinks he's worth the effort, but he does appreciate it. Honestly, he's never thought he was worth the effort for her. But she keeps putting it in anyway.

That's what all of them keep doing. Putting change into the broken machine that is his head, hoping something's going to come out of it.

"How's your book?" David asks, because the least he can do is hold up his end of a conversation. She has her psychology book tucked under her arm. This morning she was going through it with different colored highlighters. "Have you found everything that's wrong with me yet?"

"So far," Syd says, with a little smile. "I just started the chapter on traumatic memory loss. Keep it up and I think we'll work our way through the whole book. I'm learning a lot."

"Glad I could be of service."

She holds out the book. "You want to see?"

"Not really," David says, eyeing it warily. "Besides, I still have those paragraphs to re-read before I get my brain sifted. I don't want to clutter up all that empty space."

She gives him that familiar, tolerant look. The one where she isn't sure if she should hug him or hit him. Not that she ever did much of either. But she probably could do them now, if she wanted to.

He doesn't want her to. He doesn't want her to fill him up with quarters that are never going to pay out.

"You don't have to sit alone," Syd tells him. "If you're just going to read. We can read together."

Like they did in Clockworks, he thinks. They couldn't touch, so they would sit together and read. Or he would sit and she would draw him.

She shouldn't be able to stand his presence. She should be angry with him. She should throw her book at his head and kick him in the shins until he bleeds.

"David," she says, softly.

"I can't," he tells her, tightly. "I know what you want but I can't." He can't forgive himself. He can't understand why she's forgiven him.

"I know," she says. "But that's not what I'm asking right now. I'm just asking you to sit with me while we read together. We don't even have to sit close. Just... in the same part of the lab. How about by the window? You like sitting by the window."

He does. He does like sitting by the window.

"Matilda can join us," Syd adds. "She likes you."

"I scared her," David says. Yesterday. He yelled and she ran away.

"She came back. She's a therapy cat. She's used to a little scare now and then. She knows you need her."

David doesn't think they're talking about the cat anymore.

"She should be someone else's therapy cat," David says, hugging himself. "Kerry needs her to practice eating with. She can be Kerry's."

"Matilda doesn't belong to anyone but herself," Syd says. "That's why I like her, remember? She does what she wants. Mostly what she wants is to take care of people who are hurting."

David's hands clench at his arms. "I guess that's me. One big cat bed of pain."

"Yeah," Syd agrees. "And you're warm, she likes that. She likes being touched. Touch is-- It's really important. Especially when you don't get enough. There's terms for that. Touch starvation. Skin hunger. Somatosensory Affectional Deprivation."

"Are you giving me another diagnosis?"

"It's one of mine, but we can share."

David huffs at that. "We really are going to work our way through your whole book."

"I think it would be good for you to read it."

David shakes his head.

"Okay," Syd says. "Reading about my diagnoses helped me a lot while you were gone. It helped me understand what was happening to me. It gave me context. It helped me see I wasn't alone. What I was feeling, what I still feel, so many other people feel it that they had to put it in a reference book."

"I'm a unique case."

"You are. You definitely are. But so's everyone. No one else has my powers. No one else has been through what you've been through. But we can share the pieces that match."

"And how do we match?" David asks, before he can stop himself.

Syd gives him a steady look. "When we don't get enough touch, it makes us sick. We feel lonely, depressed, angry at the world. It dehumanizes us and stunts our growth. Touch calms our anxiety. It makes us feel safe and nurtured."

She takes a step towards him, another. She reaches up her hand, slowly, so slowly. He holds utterly still as she rests her gloved palm against his cheek. He doesn't even breathe, not until she takes it away, and then he takes a shaky, desperate gasp.

"It'll be okay," she tells him, like she somehow knows. Like she can see his future and it's not a burning, toxic disaster, like the rest of his life has been. "I promise. So just-- Come and sit by the window with me and Matilda."

She steps back and walks over to the window, positions two chairs. She calls for Matilda and the cat trots over. The morning sun is still slanting through, casting warm light on the chairs. Matilda hops onto one seat and curls up in the sunbeam.

Syd sits down and opens her book. She glances back at him, then reads.

David can't move. He stands there, long minutes ticking away while all he can do is feel the ghost of her hand against his cheek. But finally he does. He walks back to his bed and picks up his book. He didn't even mark where he was reading. He just closed it and put it down. He read the same paragraphs over and over, but now he's lost them. He doesn't know where he left off.

Maybe... Maybe he can just start again. At the beginning. Table of contents, author's notes, chapter one, page one. Maybe he can do that.

Maybe.

But he's not ready to sit with Syd by the window. Not yet. He lies back down and doesn't open the book.

Chapter 23: Day 6: He's sitting on the bed in the white room. (David)

Chapter Text

"Okay, David," Ptonomy says, in his soothing, musical therapist tone. "It's time to get started. Are you ready?"

"I'm ready," David says, and rubs his palms against his thighs, trying to believe his own words. This is probably going to be a disaster, but as usual all he can do is let whatever's coming for him happen to him. He hopes whatever's going to run him over isn't too horrible. He doesn't think he can take anything horrible right now, even if it's only the memory of something horrible.

They remade the circle of chairs after lunch. It's the five of them again: David, Dvd, Divad, Oliver, and the Vermillion.

He looks at Oliver. Oliver should be resting, not being forced to endure this on David's behalf.

"It's all right," Oliver assures him. "It's quite soothing, actually. Like listening to a burbling stream. Besides, I'd hear you even if I wasn't helping. Your thoughts resound."

"A resounding burble?" David asks, skeptically.

"I prefer it to the sound of cracking ice," Oliver replies.

He has a point.

"So how's this going to work?" David asks. "Is it like a memory walk?"

"Unfortunately, no," Ptonomy says. "With my body gone, we have no way of entering your memories directly to experience them with you. Divad and Dvd can hear your thoughts, as we can, but they can't see what you're remembering unless you show them."

"How do I do that?"

"The crown prevents you from using your powers. But your mind still works the way it always has. You were able to step out of your body the same way you would astral project. Think of this as creating an environment on the astral plane. The environment is your memory. Bring Divad and Dvd into it, just as you would bring someone into a psychic space you created."

A white room. He has to make a white room, but made of his memories and only existing inside his own mind.

"Okay," he says, mulling it over. "I think I can do that."

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Once all three of you are in your memories, Divad and Dvd will guide you through them, as I would have. They'll help you avoid the ones they know aren't safe, and they'll look for something good that matches their memories. Oh, and one more thing. Amy's going to help."

"Hey," says Amy.

David tenses up. "No, that's-- No."

"She won't be able to see your memories," Ptonomy assures him. "She'll just hear your thoughts, like the rest of us."

Oh god, Amy can hear his thoughts. Of course she can, she's in the mainframe. She and Lenny have heard everything he's been thinking all day.

He tries to stop himself from thinking about her laughing at him, so of course that's the only thing he can think about. God, why can't he forget that? He remembers like five things out of his entire life and that's one of them, and of course it is because why would he remember anything real?

"We need Amy's help," Divad tells him. "Dvd and I didn't exist at the beginning. Amy's older than all of us, she remembers how you were before us. She remembers how we were from the outside."

"It's important that Amy's part of this," Ptonomy insists. "She has her own perspective of your life, one separate from all the mental games that Farouk put you through."

"Farouk ripped her out of her body," David protests. "What if he did something else to her?"

"I don't think he could have anticipated this," Ptonomy says. "He was trying to make you lose your mind so you'd end the world. He expected to achieve that. That's why he left Amy alive for you to find. The longer it took for you to figure that out, the more damage her existence would do to you. Messing with her memory doesn't fit into that. He didn't want you to doubt that she was real, so he left her whole."

Whole. He left her whole. David wishes that wasn't such a relief. He wishes Syd hadn't stopped him, he wishes he'd finished smashing Farouk's head in until his brains spilled out all over the sand.

"It's a good thing you didn't," Ptonomy says. "That's what happened in the future Syd was trying to avoid, wasn't it? You killed him in the desert. That along with Amy and whatever else happened in that timeline pushed you over the edge. It broke you so badly that nothing could fix you again."

God. And here David is, laying himself down on the tracks so something else can break him.

"You're not gonna get broken," Dvd insists. "We're gonna keep you safe. Just like your-- Just like our friends did when they saved Amy."

Divad looks at Dvd in surprise. So does David.

"What?" Dvd shrugs, defensively. "We always share everything. I'm not gonna get left out now just because you don't remember how we work."

"David," says Amy, her voice coming out of the Vermillion. "Please let me help. I want to help you."

Like she helped him by locking him up in a mental hospital for six years. Shit, he didn't want her to hear that. He needs to stop thinking about anything.

"You're right, I did do that you to," Amy says, and she sounds sad but not nearly as upset as he expected her to be. "It was-- I just wanted to keep you safe, but that place wasn't safe for you. I'm sorry."

David looks away, looks toward the window. He always knew she was sorry. He always knew, even if he thought it was just a delusion that he heard her think about how sorry she was. He lost years of his life and most of what was left of his mind to that place. Farouk was right, he was angry with her all the time, he was so angry but he swallowed it because he deserved to be there, he deserved it.

"You didn't deserve it," Amy says, and now she sounds upset. "David, they wouldn't let you out for my wedding, for our father's funeral. And I let them keep you there. I'm your legal guardian, I could have-- When I realized you weren't getting better I should have found somewhere else. I should have kept trying to find you the right kind of help, even if I didn't know what that was."

But she didn't.

"You're right. I didn't."

He doesn't want to be angry. He just wants to be happy she's alive. But he's angry, he's so angry, even though he deserved to be stuck in that place forever because he's--

He cuts that thought off before Divad can. He's never going to get better if he keeps spiralling.

"I need to focus on getting better," he says, saying the words aloud so he can hear them with his own two ears and listen to them.

"I know," Amy says. "That's why I'm asking you to let me help. I love you, okay? All I've ever wanted was for you to be healthy and happy and-- That's all I want. Please let me help you."

That's not all she wants. She wants him to be normal. She wants him to be normal and easy and clean. And he'll never be that. No matter what he does, he'll never be that.

But he has to get better. He has to get better. He doesn't want to end the world.

"Fine," he says, surrendering. It's not his choice anyway, like any of this is his choice.

No, he's choosing to get better. He chose to try. He remembers that. It's never going to work but he chose to try.

"Thank you," Amy says, quietly.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, taking control again. "David, take a minute and clear your head."

Oh, he just needs a minute now instead of ten? Even more hilarious.

"When you're ready," Ptonomy continues, "I want you to create a mental white room and go into it, then bring Divad and Dvd in. Don't cut off the outside world completely. You still need to be able to hear us."

Okay. Okay, he can do this.

David brings his legs up and folds himself into a meditation pose, settles until he's comfortable. He closes his eyes and focuses on his breathing. Slow, even breaths, nice and deep. Calm, he's calm.

He can do this. He knows how to do this.

And then he's not sitting in a chair in Cary's lab. He's sitting on the bed in the white room.

He gets off the bed quickly, walks back from it.

This isn't the white room. Not the real one, the one where-- It's not really that one, just like he wasn't really astral projecting when he stepped out of his body. It's just a trick he's playing on himself.

Like Farouk tricked him when he taught him how to make the real white room. When he--

No. No. He's not thinking about any of that now. He has to focus on getting better.

This is his mind and his mind is his own, or at least this corner of it is. In his own mind, in this space, he decides what's real and what isn't.

He closes his eyes, and when he opens them again, the bed is gone. The carpet, the sofa, they're all gone. It's just an empty room with sheer curtains moving with the gentle breeze that's coming in through the open sliding doors.

"David?" It's Ptonomy's voice, drifting in with the breeze. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," David calls back. He doesn't know if his body is thinking or saying it, but it doesn't really matter. "I'm bringing in Divad and Dvd now."

He knows how to do this, too. It's just like reaching out and pulling Syd in. And then they're here, Divad and Dvd, standing in front of him.

"Nice," Dvd says, looking around. "Decided to redecorate? Hmm, you know what this place needs?"

Astronomy posters appear on the walls, the same ones from David's childhood bedroom. So much for this place being his own.

"We're part of you, dummy," Dvd says, but fondly. "And we're people," he says, before David can say it. "Like Ptonomy said, we're complicated people."

Complicated is right.

"Let's get started," Divad says. "Amy, you're up."

"She is?" David asks.

"We're not just looking for one good memory, we’re figuring out the story of your life. Do you actually remember being a baby?" Divad asks.

David tries. He remembers seeing himself as a baby when Oliver and Cary were ripping Farouk out of his memories, but he doesn't remember being a baby.

"Yeah, that's why Amy's up," Divad says. "She'll tell us the early years, then you join in when your memories start. Just try and picture whatever she's telling us."

This whole situation suddenly reminds David of being stuck on the astral plane with his rational mind. That experience actually helped him a lot. Maybe this won't be a complete disaster.

He probably just jinxed himself. Oh, well, never mind.

"Amy, go ahead," says Ptonomy. "How did you meet David?"

"I was four," Amy says. "It was late. I was in my room and I heard voices. I snuck out onto the landing and-- there was a man."

David blinks and they're standing in his childhood home. A young Amy is on the landing above, looking down through the wooden posts of the railing.

"For a long time, I thought it was a dream," child Amy says, her voice changing to match how David perceives her. "But you were real."

Child Amy points, and David turns to see his parents standing in the hall with a man. The man is hidden in shadow. David walks up to him but he can't see his face, like he couldn't see his father's face when he tried during his memory walks.

"We don't know what this mystery man looks like," Divad explains. "Our mind will fill in what it can, but this isn't actually a memory."

David looks at his parents. His mother is holding a baby in her arms. It's him.

It's him.

This isn't real. It's not even his memory. He's just-- It's just his mind, filling in the blanks of Amy's story. But it's him. It's David, or whatever his name was before it was David.

"Did they-- Did they name me?" David asks. "Did they give me a new name?"

"I don't know," child Amy says. "One day I had a new little brother named David. You were the sweetest thing. I didn't care where you came from."

David looks at baby David again. Baby David looks back at him. "Farouk hadn't-- He hadn't found me yet."

God, if only there was a way to go back and stop all this. To keep himself safe. Maybe he can. He sent his mind forward in time to talk to Future Syd. Maybe he could send his mind back, find some way to warn his parents. He could undo all of it, all of it, and then he'd just be-- he'd just be whoever he was supposed to be before Farouk took everything. He'd be someone else, he wouldn't exist anymore but-- It would be suicide, Farouk said changing the timeline would be-- But that would be okay, because-- He wouldn't be--

"David," Divad says, drawing him back with a hand on his shoulder. "Right now you have to focus on getting better. You can't do anything until you're better."

"Right," David says, wobbling back from the edge. The idea won't go away, but he has to focus on getting better. He can't send his mind anywhere until he gets rid of the crown and he can't get rid of the crown until he's stable and he won't be stable until he's better.

He can't kill himself until he's better. He feels a little manic, thinking that.

"Amy?" Divad asks. "What happened next?"

"We were happy," child Amy says. "David was the little brother I always wanted. But then-- You got sick. No one could figure out what was wrong. You cried and cried. The doctors couldn't help."

"Farouk," David says, knows it. Farouk got into him, made him sick.

"You’d only stop crying when I held you," child Amy says.

And then the room changes and they're in Amy's childhood bedroom, and she's a little older and she's holding baby David, and he's a little older, too. He has tear tracks on his face but they're dry, and he's smiling up at Amy as he grabs at her hair.

David's heart aches, seeing them. It hurts. Why did everything have to go so wrong?

"Eventually you stopped crying, but you were always-- Sensitive," child Amy says, as she plays with baby David. "It was easy for things to upset you. Living away from everyone, out in the country made it easier to keep you calm, but-- It was so hard for you to be happy."

"I thought I was happy," David says. He did. He remembers being-- "I remember being loved."

"You were loved," child Amy says, smiling as her eyes fill with tears. "We loved you so much, as much as we could. And you loved us back as much as you could."

David kneels before her. He remembers Ptonomy telling him not to interact with his memories. But these aren't memories and he needs to hug Amy so much. He doesn't care about Clockworks, he doesn't care about any of it.

And then she's hugging him, she's fully grown and hugging him so tight. He holds her and buries his face against her shoulder, and her long hair brushes his cheek.

It's not real. It's just his mind filling in the blank where she used to be. But he misses her so much, so much. She's dead and she's alive and he might never see her again, she might be trapped in the mainframe forever because of him, she might have been trapped in Lenny forever because of him.

"No, David," Amy says, and his mind fills in the blanks so he can feel her speaking against his chest. "You didn't do any of that. You can't-- you can't say you deserve what I did to you, and blame yourself for something someone else did to me."

"I really can," David says, through his tears. She's not here. She doesn't have a body anymore. He shouldn't-- It's wrong, doing this. Holding her when she isn't-- It's wrong.

He blinks and Amy is gone. Child Amy and baby David are gone, too.

He slumps over the bed and tries to pull himself back together. He has to get through this. He has to get better.

"David?" Amy's voice comes in through the open window. She's worried, he can hear it.

David pushes himself back to his feet. He wipes his eyes. "What happened next?" he asks, and congratulates himself for the relative steadiness of his voice.

It takes a moment for Amy to answer.

"As you got older, things started to-- I know what it was now, but I didn't--" She takes an audible breath. "Sometimes I would leave you in the bathroom and turn around and you'd be wandering outside. You would know things, conversations you shouldn't have been able to overhear. You didn't stay put, even when we locked the doors."

David doesn't understand. "I didn't-- Amy, I didn't know about my powers. How could I have--" He thought-- he thought that Farouk suppressed them, somehow, drained him too much for them to-- He heard voices, he made things move with his mind, but those were-- He was older when that happened.

He thought he was schizophrenic, and then he thought that he was crazy because his powers made him crazy because Farouk kept him from being able to control them. Because Farouk kept him from knowing he had powers in the first place.

"Of course we knew about our powers," Dvd says. "We used them all the time. It was great for school, we always knew the right answers because we would listen in on the smartest kid in the class."

David knew about his powers. He was a little kid and he knew about his powers and used them and controlled them and he was fine.

"Oh my god," David says. He sits down on the bed, absolutely stunned. "I knew about my powers."

"Was he always this slow?" Dvd asks, and Divad shrugs.

Chapter 24: Day 6: I don’t think these memories are real. (David)

Chapter Text

"David, do you want to take a break?" Ptonomy's voice asks, through the open window of Amy's childhood bedroom.

"No," David says, distantly, then he snaps back to himself. It's a shock, learning that he knew about his powers as a kid, that he used them and controlled them. It's a shock but it's-- It's not a bad shock. It's not an 'Amy and Lenny are in the mainframe' shock. It's just--

He should be used to it by now, having his understanding of himself and his life completely turned upside-down. He should be used to it, but each time it knocks him flat.

He has no memory of knowing about his powers. Not when he was young, and by the time he understood that something strange was happening to him, he had his diagnosis of schizophrenia. And then when he did suspect that there was something more than schizophrenia happening to him, that he was somehow making the world change with his mind, that he was hearing actual thoughts and not delusions of thoughts--

By then, he’d already been on heavy medication for years. He’d been arrested, he'd been put onto psych holds, he'd been strapped down to hospital beds. By then, he knew not to trust his own mind, his own senses. By then, he knew he was crazy. He knew.

But he didn't. He didn't know it because before Farouk made him forget, he knew he had powers. So he would have known he wasn't crazy.

"Maybe we should take a break," Divad says.

"No," David says, looking up at him. "No, I have to-- I need to know the truth. The whole-- I need to know who I really am."

He's not David the lunatic. He's not-- He doesn't know who he is, who the David is who knew he had powers the whole time. But he needs to find out.

Wait. Maybe this is the proof that he isn’t who everyone thinks he is. Maybe there was a different David who knew all of that and died and that’s why he—

“No,” Divad says, firmly. “David, we were there when he made you forget. That’s all he did, he made you forget.”

“But—“

“No,” Divad says again. “We’ll find your proof, but you have to give us the chance to do that.”

“Yeah, come on, we haven’t even got to your memories yet, much less ours,” Dvd says.

“What’s the first thing you remember?” Divad asks. “How far back can you go?”

David concentrates. He’s gone over the same few memories so many times, but what’s the earliest?

When he opens his eyes, he’s sitting on the floor of his childhood bedroom, and there’s a crib instead of a bed. His blue rocket lamp is slowly turning, softly creaking and casting stars across every surface.

“My lamp,” he says, remembering how much it fascinated him, how he would stare at it for hours. “It’s— It’s real, I think it’s real. I accidentally broke it in Amy’s basement after—“

After Lenny appeared, or what he thought was Lenny. It was just Farouk, wearing her like a mask, starting a new game because David wasn’t a drugged, docile prisoner of Clockworks anymore. There was something new to do besides terrify him and then make him forget why he was terrified, over and over, day after day after day, while slowly sucking him dry.

Was it real?

“We liked the lamp, too,” Dvd says. “It was real. I was kinda mad when you broke it.”

David regretted breaking it. He stayed up late patching it back together, searching the basement floor for every last ceramic fragment, fixing the wiring, bending the shade back into some kind of shape. He wonders what happened to it when they moved Amy and Ben to the desert. It was so busted, even after all that work. They probably just threw it out.

“I saved it,” Amy says. “Of course I saved it. I knew how much you loved it.”

Oh.

He wants— Maybe they could—

“I’m sure we can have it brought to the lab,” Ptonomy says.

Maybe there’s a tiny upside to having his every thought heard by everyone.

Okay. So he remembers his lamp and so does everyone else. It’s not much but it’s a start. What else does he remember?

His legs pumping as he rode his tricycle down the street. The sun shining down, the scrape of skateboards against the curb. Amy on her bike, riding ahead and then back again, circling him like a hawk.

Sitting on the grass, his fingers sticky as he blew bubbles across the yard. Picking dandelions from the lawn. Playing with toys, playing with Amy; sitting on his mom’s lap or his dad’s shoulders.

He doesn’t remember hearing thoughts or teleporting out of bathrooms. He doesn’t remember being sad and sensitive. He remembers— He remembers being normal. A normal little boy doing normal little boy things.

But that wasn’t real. He wasn’t normal. He knew about his powers and used them. Amy and his parents— His parents—

“They must have known,” he realizes. “That I’m a mutant. They must have known.” They took in a baby in the dead of night, of course they knew there was something unusual about him. Maybe not the extent of his powers, not at first, and they didn’t know about his parasite, but—

Amy was a child and she knew, even if she didn’t understand what was happening, even if she thought— Amy knew and his parents must have known.

“Why didn’t they—“ he starts, but then stops, because maybe they did talk to him about his powers. Maybe they did a lot of things that people trying to hide a powerful mutant toddler would do. But he doesn’t remember any of it. He remembers being loved by his parents, but he doesn’t remember them helping him. He—

He doesn’t remember talking to them much at all. There are moments, but— When he thinks about his family, he mostly just thinks about Amy. He didn’t know he was adopted until a few weeks ago, but he always— It’s like—

If he wasn’t already sitting down, he would have to sit down.

During his memory walks with Ptonomy, he kept feeling like there was something in the way of him seeing his parents properly. He could see Amy fine, but Mom and Dad— He couldn’t see their faces. He remembers being loved but if he tries to remember more than that—

“I don’t think these memories are real,” Divad says. “I don’t think any of that was. Maybe you did those things. You probably did. But you were never normal and our family knew that.”

“What did they know?” David asks. Divad and Dvd and Amy remember what he can’t. “Please, why did he make me forget them?”

He forgot them. Not everything, Farouk had to leave something behind or it would have been suspicious, but he took away so much. When Dad died, when they wouldn’t let him go to the funeral, David thought— He thought a lot of terrible things, but he mostly thought it didn’t matter because they’d never been that close anyway.

“No, David, that’s not—“ Child Amy is back, older now, with braids and skinned knees. She sits down on the grass with him. “I didn’t know what you were. But they must have. They told me never to say anything about the strange things that happened. They didn’t want anyone to find out you were a mutant. I think they were afraid of what would happen.”

“They had reason to be afraid,” Ptonomy says, his voice drifting over. “Even beyond protecting you from Farouk. Division 3 was actively searching for mutant children. If they’d found you, you would have been killed or forced into becoming their weapon. Especially given how powerful you were at such a young age. Your adoptive parents couldn’t even risk telling their own daughter the truth about you.”

“They were trying to protect me,” David realizes. They didn’t know about his parasite, they didn’t know Farouk had already found him. They were trying to keep him safe from another threat, from the military arm of the world governments that wanted to destroy mutantkind and had no morals against abducting and brainwashing mutant children and forcing them to slaughter their own kind.

That’s what Division 3 is. That’s the organization he talked his friends into joining so they could stop Farouk. God, he really had no idea about the war he found himself in the middle of. He just wanted everyone to stop trying to kill each other. He wanted to do something good with all the power he suddenly found himself with.

He’s such an idiot. He made them join Division 3. This place nearly destroyed them and it’s his fault.

“You didn’t make us do anything,” Ptonomy says. “You’re right that you had no idea what you were doing when you tried to negotiate with Division 3. But you stopped the killing. And once you were gone, we made the choice to come here, to take the opportunity you gave us to change Division 3 into something better. We did a lot of good while we searched for you. Don’t take away our choice because you can’t forgive yourself.”

That’s all too much for David to process. He tries to focus on what’s happening right now, on the false memories Farouk created for him after he took away the real ones. Farouk must have had to take away so much that David wouldn’t have been able to remember anything at all, but if he didn’t remember anything he would have tried harder to understand his own past.

So Farouk left behind the normal things. He left behind Amy and the love of his family. He built David just enough false memories to be believable, using just enough truth for him to swallow all of it without question.

When did he forget? When was he changed so completely?

“When we were in college,” Divad says. “But we’ll get to that later. Do you remember any of what Farouk did to you before you made us?”

“No.” David shakes his head. He’s known about Farouk for weeks but there’s still nothing. Just like Benny, but— He was wrong, before, thinking of the missing memories like black holes. His whole mind is a black hole. He barely exists at all, he’s just this paper-thin mockery of a person that Farouk—

That Farouk made. This person he is now, he didn’t make himself, he didn’t sew himself together out of scraps and cotton thread. Farouk took away almost everything he was and then picked through the scraps and built something new to play with.

How could they ever— How are they ever going to find anything inside him that’s real?

“We’re not gonna let you float away,” Dvd says, sitting beside him on the grass. “We’re not gonna let that shit beetle hurt you again. And that’s— It’s bullshit, okay? Even if you don’t remember, it’s bullshit, because you’re still you, David. I would know. He left Amy whole to torture you, right? Well he left me whole to torture me. He made sure I’d remember. So I remember who you were and you grew up, you changed, you forgot. But you never stopped being you.”

It’s the most eloquent thing David’s ever heard Dvd say. And Dvd is looking at him so— There’s no defensive anger in his eyes, no sarcasm in his voice. He’s just—

He’s telling the truth. It’s not enough to make David believe, but Dvd’s telling the truth as much as he knows it. It’s not enough but— It helps. It does help.

“Aww, c’mere,” Dvd says, and hugs him.

David freezes, surprised. Dvd’s never— Neither of his alters have been very— Most of the time he’s known them, they haven’t been able to touch him, much less—

Dvd hugs him tighter. “Just because you don’t remember how we work, that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna hug you. Syd's right, you need hugs.”

David swallows. "I thought you hated Syd."

"Eh," Dvd says, noncommittally. "We need all the help we can get. I'll be mad at her again when you're better. Now hug me back already."

David tentatively hugs him back. This is all very, very strange, everyone knowing so much more of his life than him, his relationships being different and having relationships he doesn't remember at all. He wasn't sure what he expected to find but it wasn't this, it wasn't this entire other existence that he barely feels any connection to at all. He feels even less real than he did when they started this, and he wouldn't have thought that was possible.

Dvd pulls back, lets him go.

"I think we should stop," Divad says. "Just for now."

"What?" David says, alarmed. "No, we-- we can't. We haven't even--"

"I agree," Ptonomy says. "David, finding out all of this-- If we keep going, we risk hurting you, setting you back. We have to take this slow."

"No," David insists. "I need-- We have to find the memory, the-- The good memory. So I can have continuity. We have to find it." He can't get better if he doesn't know who he is.

Divad crouches down to meet his eyes. "David, this is only going to get harder. When you were this young, Farouk was already hurting you, draining you, but he wasn't-- He hadn't broken your mind yet. He wasn't strong enough to do that. He was still-- He had to recover from being forced out of his body."

There's something else. There's something else that Divad doesn't want him to realize yet. Something he realized when he was a little older, maybe before he created the alters, maybe after.

Oh god.

"I didn't just know about my powers," David realizes. "I knew there was a monster."

Divad gives a resigned nod.

The invisible war. It wasn't invisible, not then. He knew about his powers. He knew he was being tortured by something alien, by some creature living inside him. He couldn't have known what it was, who it was, but he knew it was there. He must have tried to tell someone. He must have tried to tell his parents. They knew he was a mutant, they knew about Farouk, they must have known--

They must have known. How could they have-- How could they have just--

"They didn't know," Dvd insists. "By the time we came and we realized what was happening to us, the monster had already made sure that no one would believe us. He made everyone think we were crazy so no matter what we said, no one would help us."

"David, I'm so sorry," child Amy says. "If I had known about your powers-- I wish Mom and Dad had told me. But you talked to people that weren't there. You saw things that weren't there. You forgot things and got confused, you were upset all the time, you said you were being controlled, that something was inside you, hurting you. We just thought-- The doctors thought--"

That he was schizophrenic. His parents knew he was a mutant and thought that he was schizophrenic. Farouk really was his schizophrenia after all.

He doesn't remember telling people he was being controlled. He doesn't remember that at all.

"Yeah, we are definitely done," Divad says, firmly. "Come on, David. Let's go back."

"No," David refuses. They can't quit now. They have to find something real, he needs something real from his own memory. He needs proof that he isn't just something Farouk created like a false memory, to paper over the gaping emptiness that is his mind.

He knew it, he knew this was going to happen, that looking into himself would only make things worse. There’s probably nothing to find. Farouk doesn’t want him to have anything good, and he’s never been able to stop Farouk from getting what he wanted. God, why did he even think he could try to get better? It was never going to work.

He just--

He just wants--

"Stop it," Dvd says, cutting off the thought. "Just stop it. Divad's right, we need to go back so you can rest. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to say that he's right? No, you don't, because you don't remember us. And you know what? You're right, too. It's not okay. It's awful. It's been awful for years and I thought it would be better once you could finally hear us and see us but it's actually worse."

"Dvd," Divad says, concerned.

"Shut up, I'm not done," Dvd says. "David, he tortured us. He tortured us, do you understand? You don't remember and you shouldn't ever remember but I remember more of it than even Divad does. And it was--" He closes his mouth tight, closes his eyes, tenses up so tight and then lets it go. "None of this is gonna be fixed with one memory. It's just not. Because I have all the memories and it's still awful." He reaches out and holds David's arms. "We'll find a good one, okay? We will find a good one. But we're finding it so it will help you get better. If we hurt you finding it, then this whole thing is pointless and we should just take off the crown so you can go back in time and kill everyone."

David freezes.

"That's what you were thinking, you know we heard it," Dvd says. "Everyone heard it. You think that's the answer? It's not enough for you to kill yourself, you want to kill everyone else, too?"

"No!" David protests, he just--

"If we could never have existed," Dvd says. "If we could spare you all of this. If you never had to make us because someone kept you safe, that would be okay by us. But that's not a decision we get to make for the world. We thought we should make Syd forget and look what happened. We can't make the world forget without— Without it being seven billion times worse."

"But-- But Syd, Future Syd--"

"Excuse me?" Dvd says, outraged. "I might not be mad at Syd right now, but if we ever see that bitch's face again I'm going to use our body to smash her head in with a rock! She is not a good example of how to save the world, you get me?" He looks up at the sky. "Unbelievable." He looks back at David. "Now get us out of this place before I do it myself."

David opens his eyes. He's back in Cary's lab, back in the chair. Divad and Dvd slump in their chairs, both in their own versions of overwhelming relief.

Maybe-- Maybe it's a good thing he has to wear the crown. David doesn't think he's capable of making any kind of decision right now, much less a good one.

"I'm glad you realized that," Ptonomy says, sounding relieved himself. "That was a lot for you, learning about your past. Give it time to settle. Talk to Amy, when you're up to it. Let her tell you what she can about who you used to be. When you're ready, we'll do more memory work, but Dvd's right. There's no point in doing this if it makes you worse. We have to take it one step at a time. If you keep pushing yourself, you'll end up just like that lamp, and we'll have to work even harder to put all the pieces back together just to get you back to where you are now. I don't think you want that."

David thinks of his lamp and all the tiny pieces he had to find. He never did find all of them. There were holes in the rocket when he taped it back together, gaps like missing teeth. Like black holes, lacunas; information destroyed, never to be found again.

"No," he agrees. He's lost so much, he must have lost a little more of himself each time he was broken. He doesn't want to lose anything else. He can't afford to.

Chapter 25: Day 6: He's just not very steady on his feet. (David, Kerry)

Chapter Text

David sits by the window.

He was sitting by the window alone, but then Matilda walked up and jumped into his lap. He’s a cat bed of pain so he lets her do what she wants. He pets her and keeps petting her and she rumbles against him like purring is going out of style and she has to get it all done now.

And then Kerry came over with a second chair and a stack of magazines. She hasn’t said much. She just keeps him company and flips through the magazines. She seems to be— If he didn’t know better, he’d say she was lost in thought. She doesn’t seem upset, though, so he doesn’t ask. He’s not really up to asking.

To his relief, Syd hasn’t come over. She’s at the table bent over her psychology book. She’s still highlighting things and now she’s making notes in the margins. He really, really doesn’t want to see them. He used to try to look at his patient files and his therapists' notes, but seeing how crazy they thought he was only made him crazier.

Or at least that’s what he remembers.

It’s a lot, what he learned during the memory work. It’s really close to being too much. He should have stopped the first time they told him to stop, after he learned he’d always known about his powers, but he kept going anyway. He never understood why Ptonomy’s sessions and the old memory walks were so short, why they didn’t pick up again right away after being interrupted by Dvd or Farouk. But yeah, he gets it now.

There’s only so much someone like him can take at once.

Even with Divad’s help, David’s still been trying to do what he always does, which is to close his eyes tight and run as fast as he can until he gets to the other side.

He can’t. He would have run into so many walls by now if he didn’t have people constantly pulling him aside. He would have run right off of so many cliffs if he didn’t have his alters watching and waiting to pull him back to safety. If there is an other side to all of this, it’s too far to run and it’s too dangerous. It’s a minefield, one he can’t even walk through without blowing himself up. He has to take one careful step at a time, with everyone checking to make sure there’s nothing explosive hiding under the dirt because there probably is, and if there is they have to defuse it before he puts his foot all the way down.

It's bad enough that Farouk broke him however many times he broke him. David doesn't want to break himself. That's probably a good thing, that he's thinking that now, because before now he really, really wasn't thinking that.

He doesn't want to end the world. But he would also like to not end. Even if the need to end is still perilously close to the path he's taking, one slow, careful step at a time, he doesn't want to step on that landmine again. He doesn't. He keeps putting his foot over it but he hasn't put it all the way down, and he wants to just-- Not. To not put his foot down. To put it down somewhere else, on ground that won't explode under his weight.

He's trying. He really is trying to step anywhere else, to step somewhere safe. He's just not very steady on his feet.

Divad and Dvd are letting him rest, but they haven't vanished. They seem to be-- intentionally not vanishing. They're each sitting on one of the cots right now and they're playing cards. If David was feeling uncharitable, he would say they're doing it on purpose to remind him that they're real people and not just figments of his imagination. But they deserve better than his uncharitable thoughts.

They—

They—

Cary is busy doing Cary things. Oliver is astral projecting to look for Melanie again. At least while he's gone, David's thoughts aren't being constantly relayed into the mainframe. He's down to only three people listening in on his thoughts at all times, which these days is a luxurious amount of privacy.

The Vermillion is sitting at the table with Syd, but nobody's home. Ptonomy and Lenny and Amy are doing whatever it is they do in the mainframe. He hopes it's nice in there. He has no idea, but everyone seems okay. Not that he would know if it wasn't, even without the crown, because it's impenetrable to telepathic intrusion. Part of him wishes he could just upload himself. It's the one place he'd finally be safe from Farouk.

Across the room, Divad and Dvd pause, Divad's raised hand gone still mid-discard.

Yeah, I know, David sighs to them. There he goes again with his unsteady feet. And he wasn't even trying to walk anywhere.

David decides to think about something else, and Divad finishes putting down his card.

David knows he should have stopped, in the white room. He should have let them stop him. But he needs to know the truth about himself, even if the truth is—

Even if—

Even if he is David, the same David who loved his blue rocket lamp-- Even if he's the same, continuous identity--

He doesn't remember that life. He doesn't remember it beyond the bits and pieces Farouk left for him to keep. He doesn't remember being anything but a normal little boy who loved his sister and his parents. He doesn't remember knowing about his powers and using them. He doesn't remember being some kind of refugee hidden from the world, mentally unstable because of the parasite in his head even before his mind split into three. He doesn't remember his parents protecting him from Division 3. He doesn't remember knowing there was a monster inside of him, hurting him, and he doesn't remember asking for help getting it out.

Whatever memories are hidden inside him, whatever Farouk left behind or David made himself forget, he can't remember them and he probably never will. It's all just gone, like Benny is gone. It's never coming back.

There are things he's lost that he'll never get back.

He's been telling himself that for days, but this is-- It's so much. It's so much to lose, and he lost all of it.

He doesn't know if he should-- Should he mourn that David? Should he be grieving the loss of himself? Divad and Dvd keep telling him that despite everything he's forgotten and endured, he's still the same person, but he can't-- He can't see any connection between that David and the David he is now, whoever that David is. He has nothing to sew them together beyond a broken rocket lamp and Amy's love, and he doesn't have the lamp and his sister is--

Alive. Dead. A digital ghost. A bunch of ones and zeros on a hard drive.

His whole life is such a swirling existential nightmare.

Okay. Okay. This is-- He's doing the work of getting better. Ptonomy said it would be hard. It's just really, really, really hard. A lot harder than other people keeping him alive was and continues to be, and that hasn’t been easy at all.

He glances at the Vermillion again. Ptonomy said he should talk to Amy when he’s ready and learn more about the David-that-was.

He wants to. He needs to. He will. He’s just— he doesn’t feel ready yet. He’s still— He’s had a shock, another shock, and he needs to rest.

He needs to rest.

§

Kerry flips another page of the magazine she’s reading and frowns.

After she and Cary got all the food stuff figured out with their meal plan, Kerry asked him for something else to help her understand. It’s new, this need to understand herself and the world, and even newer is the need to understand how those two things fit together.

Cary went out and came back with a stack of magazines. All different ones, ones about science and medicine, which she’s familiar with because Cary reads them. But also ones about other things: about food and people and news and sports.

"See what interests you," Cary told her, and gave her a notebook and a pen, just like the ones he gave to David. "I think you’ll have a great deal of questions but don’t worry about them. Just write them down and we’ll go through them all together."

So that’s what she’s been doing while she keeps David company and keeps an eye on him. She’s been reading and coming up with questions and writing them down. She keeps coming up with more questions, and questions about those questions, and even questions about the questions about the questions.

The world is— Bewildering.

She remembers Cary teaching her that word, like he taught her most of her words. He made games out of it to keep it interesting, to keep her speaking instead of thinking. List the names of all the states containing the letter N. List every adjective that describes an emotional state. List all the medications that have side effects involving imbalance of the inner ear.

But knowing all the words isn’t helping her understand any of this.

She thought the sports magazines might make sense because she likes fighting and she understands fighting, but— The sports magazines aren’t about fighting at all. They’re about teams and statistics, which she understands some of, but they’re mostly about specific people she doesn’t know, and everyone cares about every little thing about them but also they don’t care about them at all. They just care if the specific people will manage to do one specific thing by a specific time, and everyone wants a different specific thing. It's rude and exhausting.

The food magazines made a little more sense now that she knows about food plans. There were lots of glossy photos of things she wants to try eating eventually because they look really good. The recipes were long and full of confusing instructions like ‘salt to taste.’ But they were also full of advice about what to eat and not eat and most of it didn’t even agree with itself, much less with what Cary told her when they made the meal plan. She wrote down all her questions but she didn’t like how they made her confused again about something she had just figured out.

The magazines about the world and countries and politics were just— she didn’t even try to understand any of those, she just wrote down pages and pages of questions, like David’s pages and pages of his name and the word NO.

At least all of this writing is giving her a reason to practice writing. She has to write carefully because she’s never had much need to write even after Cary made her learn. But she needs to because one day he’s gonna die. Even if she isn’t alone, she needs to be able to do all the things he’s always done for her, so she needs to practice writing. She need to understand the world so she can be in it the way Cary is in it, the way all their friends are.

She’s reading one of the magazines about people now, and it’s— It’s so bewildering that she can barely even come up with questions to write down.

"I don’t understand any of this," she declares, frustrated.

David looks over, startled from whatever he’s been thinking about all this time. "Any of what?"

She hands him the magazine. "Cary gave me these to read. I’m supposed to write down what I don’t understand, but it doesn’t even make enough sense to ask questions about."

David flips through the magazine. "I used to read this in Clockworks. They have a good crossword. And sudoku, but I usually couldn’t solve that."

"I don’t care about the puzzles," Kerry says. "It’s all the other stuff."

David flips back to the beginning and reads the table of contents. "Relationship advice, beauty tips, celebrity gossip? Yeah, I can see why it’s not your thing. It wasn’t really my thing but—" He shrugs. "I learned a lot about makeup. Sometimes I thought it would be nice to do that for a living: help people feel pretty. Help them feel good about themselves, I don’t know."

"That’s not what that stuff is about at all," Kerry protests. "It’s all just— It’s mean, it’s all mean and ugly."

David frowns at the magazine, then at her. "It is?"

"Yes," she insists. "Everything’s—" She huffs, trying to finds the right words. "The whole thing is about how you’re ugly if you don’t do what they tell you to do. But they’re the ugly ones, whoever wrote that. It’s mean and ugly and I hate it. And they’re all like that, even the ones about science."

She grabs the other magazines and shoves them into his hands, startling Matilda out of his lap. Matilda gives herself an affronted shake and walks over to Syd and meows for food.

David looks at the other magazines. "Well, that’s—" He thinks. "I guess you’re right."

"I am?" Kerry didn’t expect to be right. She thought she was misunderstanding things again. "But that’s stupid."

"Yeah," David agrees, and gives a resigned shrug. "The world’s— It is ugly, a lot of it. And this is all— It’s advertising."

Kerry frowns. How had Cary described advertising? "That’s how everyone knows there’s something they can buy. How they know what it's for."

David scrunches his face. "Some of it. Most of it just tries to make you feel like you have to buy what they're selling. It’s like— emotional blackmail. Drink this beer or no one will love you."

Kerry hasn’t tried beer, and she doesn’t like someone telling her she has to drink it. "Cary loves me no matter what I drink."

"That's how it should be. No one should care what anyone drinks. I don’t think anyone does, really, except the people selling the drink. They just want our money."

Ugh, money. She’s going to have to learn about money, too. "The world is stupid," she declares. "There’s no way it’s worth all this work if it’s full of people being mean."

"I’m probably not the best person to argue against that," David says, "since I’ve spent the past week trying to leave the world. But that’s not the world’s fault, it’s mine."

"It’s completely the world’s fault," Kerry says. "I’ve been listening. That’s what Ptonomy and Syd and everyone keeps telling you. No wonder you’re so sick if you spent all those years in the hospital reading advertising." She says the last word like Dvd says ‘shit beetle.’

David takes a breath, then closes his eyes. "Advertising didn’t torture me. Well, okay, maybe it is a kind of torture, but— Just because there’s terrible things in the world, that doesn’t mean it’s— You can’t just throw the good out with the bad. Or you can, but— It’s— It’s not something you should do."

He goes silent and frowns.

When he keeps staying silent and frowning, she takes back the magazines. That makes him open his eyes and look at her again.

"I'm not throwing out anything," Kerry says. "This is-- I'm-- It's something I have to do. Like eating. I have to understand the world so I can understand myself."

David gives a panicky laugh. "I'm really the wrong person to be having this conversation with. I thought I understood a lot of things and-- And I was as wrong as it’s physically possible to be. Just completely-- And I don't-- I can't even remember anything to understand it. So you should probably talk to Syd, or Cary, or-- or anyone but me."

"I'm already talking to Cary about it," Kerry says. "He gave me all this stuff to read and told me write down all my questions. And I am, but--" But what? Cary should be enough. Cary's always been enough. But--

"But Cary's not enough," she realizes, as she says it. "I want to talk to you about it."

"I can't help anyone," David says, bleakly.

"You're helping me," Kerry tells him, because he is. He already has, a lot, and he can't see it even if she can. But David can't see a lot of things, even when people tell him about them over and over. So she has to tell him and be really clear about it so he can't misunderstand her. "You-- All the stuff I said to you about-- About how scary living is. You're the only one I ever said it to. Not Cary, not Melanie, not anyone. Because no one ever-- I never saw anyone who felt what I feel. But you do."

Maybe there are other people who feel what she feels. Maybe there always have been. But she couldn't see them the way she saw David. She had to get right up close to him to keep him safe and once she did, she couldn't look away. David doesn't hide how he feels the way everyone else does. He shows everything, he screams his pain so loud that even she could hear it.

She doesn't need to hear his thoughts like Divad and Dvd and Ptonomy. She just looks at him and she knows, like she knows when Dvd or Divad are controlling his body and not David.

"You shouldn't--" David says, looking at her with those pain-filled eyes. "You shouldn't feel the way I do."

"Well, it's not up to you," Kerry tells him. "And it's not-- I don't want to die. I’ve never wanted to die. But-- I've been scared for a long time and I didn't know it. I thought I had everything figured out and I don't know anything. I don't have someone else inside me but I have me inside me and I don't know who I am, like you don't know who you are. And nobody did that to me because I did all of it to myself, like you keep hurting yourself even when we're all just trying to keep you safe. And-- And I only know any of that because you showed me. So don't tell me you can't help anyone because you're helping me."

David stares at her like he stared at her two days ago when she told him this before, like he's starving for every word. But David needs to be told things over and over, so she'll just have to keep telling him over and over until he really listens. Until he doesn't just look at her words like they're a glossy photo of a cake in some magazine, but puts the actual word cake into his actual mouth and chews and swallows and lets it into his throat and lets it sit in his stomach so his body can actually use it.

Except he shouldn't eat any cake, not for a while. He needs nutritious food so he can get better. He needs-- He needs nutritious words, too. Nutritious ideas, so his mind can digest them and use them to make itself strong.

"Oh," David says. "That's-- Um."

She can see that he still doesn't understand. He still can't let her words go into his throat. But it took her a while to force herself to eat even when she was so hungry she thought she might die. Cary had to drag her to the cafeteria and force her to eat shaomai, and she hated eating them so much. But it got easier, chewing and swallowing and all the rest of it. It got easier and now she only has to force herself a little. There are even things she likes eating, like cream soda. And eggs are okay, because she doesn't have to chew them much.

They all have to keep giving him nutritious ideas, like Cary kept giving her food. He's hungry for them, she can see that. He just doesn't know how to eat them. Cary said David doesn't know how to eat, that he doesn't know how to take care of himself because he's been sick and because people hurt him, and it's hard to take care of yourself when you're in pain.

"We're gonna get better together," she tells him, confidently. "Both of us. But also everyone, because we're all complicated people who need support. That's how this works. We help you and you help us, and everyone helps each other until everyone's better. Okay?"

She waits for David to answer.

"Um, okay," David says, and now he's the one who's bewildered.

That's okay, she doesn't mind. Every time she helps him, she helps herself get better, too.

She pulls the magazine about people out of the stack and hands it to him. "You said you like the crossword?"

"Uh, yes," David says. He opens the magazine and finds the puzzle page. He looks around. "I need a pen."

Kerry hands him hers. She's written down enough questions for now. Maybe it's David's turn to write and her turn to look out the window and think about things. She likes that idea. It feels very nutritious.

Chapter 26: Day 6: He didn't think he'd ever be outside again. (David)

Chapter Text

Oliver is back and so is the relay.

Ptonomy and Cary have both tried to convince him to stop looking for Melanie until they can come up with some kind of plan, but the best they could do was to get him to agree to not stay away too long. David doesn't think Oliver cares whether or not he gets stuck on the astral plane again, since that's where Melanie is, lost somewhere among billions of subconscious minds. But for some reason, Oliver is willing to come back to his body to help David. Because they need him present in the lab to help David get better.

David thinks that Oliver shouldn’t waste his time.

Not that he wants Oliver to get stuck. David got enough of a taste of that to never want it again for himself, much less anyone else. If he’s the excuse they need to keep Oliver alive and present and eating, so be it. At least that’s something good he can do for someone, even if all he’s doing is being hopelessly lost to keep someone else from being hopelessly lost.

Apparently that’s what he’s good for now, from what Kerry said. Showing everyone else what suffering is so they can suffer less themselves. He doesn’t know what he feels about that. He doesn’t know what he should feel.

Mostly he just feels numb. The more he rests to recover from the memory work, the more numb he feels.

Cary and Kerry come back with dinner, and everyone comes together. There aren’t enough seats around the table, not for all of them, so they bring over two more chairs and make room anyway.

The two chairs are for Divad and Dvd, who can’t be heard by half the room, can’t be seen by anyone but David, and can’t be touched by anyone but each other.

David understood giving them seats for the group therapy. It’s his therapy and he’s the one hallucinating them. But this is just— Insane.

He doesn’t say anything, and no one bothers to reply to his thoughts. He already knows what they’d say to him, because it’s the same thing they keep telling him. Divad and Dvd are real people and they all need to treat them like real people, even if they’re not visible or tangible.

He doesn't want to go over it again. He doesn't want to talk about anything. He lets the conversation flow around him and eats what he's given, like he always does.

"David. David. David."

David looks up. It's Ptonomy's voice coming out of the Vermillion.

"Do you feel like talking to Amy yet? Or Lenny? They’d both like to talk to you."

Amy.

Lenny.

"No," he says, shaking his head. He can't-- He can't talk to them, either of them. He can't face them without--

He can't.

"Amy really wants to talk to you," Ptonomy urges, gently. "She wants to help you."

David looks back down at his plate. Did he eat all that already? Apparently he did.

"No," he says again, because that's all he has the strength to say.

Maybe he should just ask Divad to make him sleep again. Maybe he should ask to sleep and never wake up, like Oliver wants to do.

"Perhaps you should take a walk, get some fresh air," Oliver replies.

"I can't," David says. "I'm not allowed to leave the lab."

"We never said that," Cary says. "You're not a prisoner anymore, David. You haven't been since we brought you out of that cell."

David looks up again, startled. "I'm-- I'm not?"

"Of course not," Cary insists. "You've just been in such a terrible state, and us all being together here is the best way to take care of you and each other. You shouldn't go anywhere alone, of course. But as long as at least one of us is with you, we can take you anywhere in Division 3."

"How about the rooftop garden?" Kerry suggests. "I was just there with Cary. It's pretty nice. We can all go."

David can't get over the fact that he's not a prisoner. "Maybe you shouldn't let me up there," he says, hearing the shock in his own voice. "I might throw myself over the side." Like the monk. God, he forgot about the monk.

"Don't joke about that," Kerry says, sternly. "And anyway you're not gonna do that. You wouldn't do that to us, right?"

It takes David a while to answer, but he does. "No. No, I wouldn't."

“Then it’s settled,” Oliver declares. “White mist in old October, over the billion trees of Bronx, sunset red. While I’m here, I’ll do the work to ease the pain of living.”

§

The garden is lovely and full of flowers.

It's getting late, so the day is cooling down, but the sun is still above the horizon and the concrete benches hold on to the heat they absorbed from being baked all day. The sounds of the city rise up from all around, but there’s not many trees and definitely no mist.

The last time David sat in a garden was after Ptonomy told him about La Désolé. He'd gone outside of Division 3 to think and talk to the voices in his head so they could help him figure out what to do. And then he went to Cary's lab and they helped him make their plan.

It feels like a lifetime ago. It was only days. Only a week and a half, with all that wandering in the desert. So little time for his whole life to change, and somehow not to change at all. But that's been the story of his life for all of this madness, for everything since Clockworks. Everything changing and changing, so much change he can't keep up, and then somehow at the end of it nothing has changed at all.

He didn't think--

He didn't think he'd ever be outside again.

Clockworks never let him outside. They had a garden, but it wasn't-- It wasn't real. It was just another cruel joke, all those fake plants pretending to be something alive, something that could sustain life by making the air sweet and pure. A real garden was just another thing he wasn't allowed to have, like fresh air and sunshine and--

He remembers loving his mother's garden. He doesn't know if he really did, if Farouk made him think he did. But he remembers it. The soil under his hands, under his nails. The tomato plants all in rows. Watering them so they would grow and thrive. The burst of cherry tomatoes in his mouth in the heat of summer, sweet and tart and juicy.

He remembers being loved. But that wasn't real either. Nothing was real, none of it.

What did Philly say to him? He didn't have a past. There was no evidence of his past, no photos, no favorite toys, no keepsakes. She couldn't have known but she did. She knew the truth even though she barely knew him at all. The flimsy lie that Farouk constructed was obvious to everyone but himself.

He's just paper-thin, covering over the absence of who he used to be. Who David used to be, whoever David was.

He looks at the railing around the garden wall. He thinks about the monk, running too fast to be stopped. Falling, falling, and then— That terrible sound, and far down below, his body. His head was full of madness, too. Contagious madness, chattering teeth, mazes, memories of bodies hanging like rotten fruit in the monastery. Everyone seeking oblivion, negation, so much death at every turn.

David takes a breath, lets it out. He needs to keep his feet steady. He went too fast today, and now he needs to go slow or he’s going to put his foot down, all the way down in the wrong place.

He tries to look away from the railing. He tries. He’s trying.

Oliver is talking to Cary, saying something about luggage. He focuses on that. There are bees dipping into the flowers. He focuses on that. Real bees. Real flowers. A real garden, outside, where he’s sitting.

He shouldn’t fall apart from something so small. He has to get better. He’ll never get better if he keeps falling apart.

Someone takes his hand, holds it. Kerry. He grips it back tightly, too tightly, but she’s strong. She’s a mutant, like him.

“We can come out here whenever you want,” she tells him. “Just the two of us. Well. And Divad and Dvd. The four of us.”

She’s been so kind to him. They barely talked before Division 3 imprisoned him and now he doesn’t think he could stay alive without her. She’s the only one who somehow makes him feel just a tiny, tiny bit normal. She gave him a crossword puzzle. She kept him company for hours today. She told him that she feels the same things he feels. She shouldn’t feel what he feels, no one should feel what he feels. But she said she feels it anyway.

They were talking about her magazines. Cary gave them to her to learn about the world. And she said— What did she say? She said if the world was so mean, it couldn’t be worth the work. And maybe it’s not, but—

If he jumped, he wouldn’t be able to sit in the garden, and he only just found out that he could. He wouldn’t be able to hold her hand and feel—

Loved. She makes him feel loved.

Him. Not-- Not whoever he used to be. Not the David-that-was. Not even the David of two weeks ago, when he was still deluding himself that he could be a hero or even just a person. She came to him when he was at his lowest and she hasn't gone away, even though he all he's done is fall apart and fall lower. And now she's holding his hand.

She shouldn't. He's not worth the work she's putting in, not worth the quarters she's poured into his broken head. But he doesn't want to let go and he doesn't want her to let go of him.

She doesn't make him talk. She just keeps him company and holds his hand while the sun sinks down and the sky turns brilliant red and orange. The others talk around them, a soothing chatter, and David holds Kerry's hand and stays alive.

§

When they get back to the lab, Clark is waiting for them.

David nearly walks right back out the door, but that would mean letting go of Kerry's hand and he doesn't want to. Kerry stands in front of him, protecting him, and he's grateful.

"I'm not here to drug you," Clark says, holding up his empty hands. "Ptonomy's in charge of your treatment. I'm just here to bring you this." There's a cardboard box on the counter beside him. He picks it up and holds it out.

Kerry takes it, letting go of David's hand. She looks at it suspiciously, then pulls open the flap and looks inside. Her posture relaxes. She turns to David and holds it out for him.

David looks inside. It's his blue rocket lamp.

He's almost afraid to touch it, but he reaches in and pulls it out.

It's been a year since he left it behind, but it's exactly same as he remembers. The shade is still bent out of shape, and the ceramic rocket is barely held together by the aging packing tape. He remembers fitting all the pieces of it together, remembers wrapping the tape around and around in a desperate attempt to make it whole because he didn't know where Amy kept her glue and he didn't want to wake her or Ben up to ask.

He remembers the lamp. It's real and he remembers it so much. He's had it since before he can remember anything and he kept it in his bedroom until the day he packed it away because he didn't want to risk bringing it to college where someone might break it.

He broke it anyway, when he got out of Clockworks. But then he tried to fix it. He couldn't fix it, but he did what he could. And now it's here and he's making a new memory of it. A new, clear, untouched memory, almost painfully vivid. He picked it up and held it and now he remembers picking it up and holding it.

"Thank you," David says, distantly. He didn't think he would ever thank Clark for anything after Clark drugged him. But he's thankful for this.

He expects Clark to leave now that he's done making his delivery. He knows how much Clark is afraid of him, how he's always been afraid of him. Clark acts nice to David, to the others, but he doesn't mean it, not on the inside. They're mutants and he considers them all to be a threat to humanity. Powerful mutants like David especially. He doesn't like having to work with them, he doesn't like what they are, but he puts up with it because that's his job. David can't read his mind anymore, but there's no reason why Clark's thoughts aren't the same as they've always been.

But Clark doesn't leave. The kettle whistles and Clark walks over to it. "I was just making some tea, do you want some tea?"

David doesn't answer, but Clark puts teabags in two mugs and fills them with hot water. He carries them over to the table and puts them down.

David looks to the others in confusion, but they're not much help either. Except Syd.

"It's okay," she tells him.

David doesn't see how any of this is okay, but he's curious enough to sit down. He puts the lamp on the table and wraps his hands around the mug, warming them. It was chilly outside, after the sun went down.

Kerry sits down next to him. Clark doesn't offer her tea and she doesn't ask for any. She crosses her arms and waits.

"I want you to know that your treatment is a priority to Division 3," Clark says. "If there's anything you need to help you get better, like your lamp, then we'll provide it. You just have to ask."

David stares at him. "Let me go," he says, finally. He doesn't know if he means to let him leave or let him die. Maybe both.

"Except that," Clark says, and he sounds apologetic but it's probably a lie. All of this is probably more lies. Just because Clark found his lamp, it doesn't mean anything. If anyone would be thrilled that David wants to kill himself, it's probably Clark, considering how many times Clark has threatened him and outright tried to murder him.

Farouk only threatened to torture David's friends. Clark hardly qualifies as a friend. At best he's a-- A frenemy. No, not even that, because he's working with Farouk. Farouk was supposed to be the one on trial but instead David was, and Farouk was the one orchestrating the whole thing. David's been so busy trying to die and not die that he forgot about how he ended up here in the first place. Like how he forgot about the monk.

Well, he's not forgetting that ever again.

"You do remember that I can hear your thoughts, right?" Clark says. He taps the tech embedded in his ear.

Shit. David forgot that, too.

"You're right, I'm not your friend," Clark says. "And for obvious reasons I'd prefer to keep it that way."

"Then why--"

Clark picks up his mug, blows at the steaming water. He takes out the teabag and sets it aside. "Division 3 has been listening, which means I've been listening. We owe you an apology. Not for taking away your powers and forcing you into treatment. It's clear that we made the right call. But--" He makes a face. "We made mistakes. We've made mistakes with you before. It's clear that-- Things could have been handled without resorting to-- Cruder methods."

Cruder methods. Cruder methods! "Is that what you call abducting me and drugging me and trying to electrocute me in a swimming pool?!"

"The swimming pool was a bit much," Clark admits. “Your situation wasn’t what it appeared to be.”

That is an astonishing understatement.

"We didn't hurt you to be cruel," Clark tells him. "We hurt you because we believed you were a threat. You killed a fellow patient. You sealed the other patients into their rooms. We know that wasn't you now, but we didn't then. And--" He actually looks regretful, but David doesn't believe it. "It was before my time, but I'm sorry for what we did to you as a child."

"Division 3 never found me," David says. He can't remember one way or the other, but if Division 3 had tracked him down, they would have taken him, and his life would have been very, very different.

"We may be the reason your parents had to give you up," Clark says. "Regardless of Farouk. Our policies at the time were-- Aggressive. Extremely aggressive. The people who set those policies are gone, but that doesn't undo the actions they compelled."

It's all very polite, careful wording. David doesn't know what happened back then, but he can guess, if Division 3 was aggressively hunting for mutant children, if they were aggressive towards mutants generally. He knows enough about the atrocities humans have done to other humans to guess what humans did to mutants.

There are words for that. Genocide, for one. Until last year, Division 3 still wanted to wipe mutants off the face of the earth, and David doesn't care if they changed their policies from horrific to politely horrific.

"That's not our goal anymore," Clark says. "We have a new goal and new policies. Possibly too new. As an organization, we're used to being aggressive. We still need to be, in some cases. We applied force unilaterally. We're learning how to be selective."

Clark sips his tea while David takes that in.

"I don't know why you're telling me this," David says, struggling. "What, do you want me to accept your apology? Fuck your apology!"

"My son was adopted," Clark says, out of nowhere.

"I know," David says, because of course he knows. He's heard Clark thinking about his husband and his son plenty of times. Usually he thought about how much he missed them because he had to spend so much time at Division 3 to stop Farouk and protect the world.

"Most people, when they adopt, they ask for a baby. Something cute and moldable, so they can pretend it's really their own. We asked for an older kid. A kid no one else wanted, who'd been hurt by the world and didn't know how to trust it. We did it because someone should give those kids a chance, and we have the resources to do that."

"So what?" David asks. Adopting one kid doesn't undo murdering however many mutants Clark has murdered, no matter how politely he murdered them.

"So if I could tell my kid that the reason his parents gave him up was because they were afraid for his life and needed to put him somewhere safe, I would. I can't do that. So I'm telling you."

David takes that in.

Clark takes one last sip of tea and stands, leaving the mug. "Good luck with your therapy. It sounds like you need it." He nods goodnight and then he's gone.

"You okay?" Kerry asks, putting a hand on his arm. "Clark's such a jerk."

Is he okay? No, he's not okay, not remotely. But not because of Clark.

Before, Ptonomy said-- He said David gave them the opportunity to change Division 3 into something better. And apparently he did. He had no idea what he was doing and blindly fumbled his way through the whole thing, but somehow he did it anyway.

That's--

It's good. He did something good.

He didn't change Division 3 directly. He wasn't there for that. He missed the year Division 3 changed, like he missed the year Syd changed. But if he hadn't existed, if he hadn't put himself between Summerland and Division 3 and told them they all had to get better, a lot more people would have been dead when he came back at the end of that year. Maybe everyone would have been dead, given how badly Summerland was losing the war when they found him. Given how desperate Melanie was for his help.

He did something good for the world. He actually did.

"David?" Kerry says, concerned. She's looking at him like he's doing something strange.

He realizes that he is. He's smiling. He's-- He's happy. He forgot what it was like to smile and be happy. He can't even remember--

No, no. He's not going to overthink this. He's not going to ruin something so precious. He's just going to sit here and drink tea with his friends and be happy.

Chapter 27: Day 6: David fucking owes me a body. (Lenny)

Chapter Text

Lenny’s getting real tired of waiting around in other people’s heads.

Okay, technically this time she’s in a computer, not someone’s head. But it sure feels like being back in David’s head when his thoughts and the thoughts and voices of the other two Davids are echoing around her, a torrent of David rushing through the data streams.

She gets that they’re, like, other people? They sure don’t think or talk like David thinks and talks, and she’s hung out with him and inside of him long enough to be an expert on both. But they sure as hell still sound like David, and Lenny’s had her fill of ambiguity.

It’s not like it matters what she thinks about them anyway. She’s barely even talked to David, much less Divad or Dvd. It’s been a whole day since she helped him out of his freakout, and he hasn’t asked for her.

To be fair, David is clearly dealing with some shit. Like, some shit. She hasn’t seen him this bad in years, and she watched the highlight reel with Amy, she knows he was even worse before they pulled her out of her cell and killed her. He was worse than his worst. He sure wanted to die in Clockworks — sometimes they all did — but he wasn’t, like, actively making the effort twenty-four seven.

Farouk raped him hard, is what she’s saying, and Lenny had a front row seat for the raping. For her own rape and for David’s and even for Syd’s, at least the first one. This whole thing is a hundred levels of fucked up that Lenny really does not want to think about. She wants to get as high as balls and stay there and shove her mouth into as much drugged-out pussy as she can. She wants the Caligula shit she got a taste of when she got out of this hellhole the first time.

That’s the thing. David’s dealing with some shit and she gets that, but she’s been dealing with some shit that’s a hundred levels of fucked up on top of that, and as usual no one cares.

David would probably care if he wasn’t busy trying to figure out if he even exists. But she was trying to exist when he visited her in Oliver’s head, and he ignored her like she didn’t shoot herself in the head and hang herself right in front of him, just because he didn’t think she was real. The ultimate cry for help, and he wasn't listening.

Fuck real. Real is goddamn overrated. She hasn’t been real for over a year but does she care? Not a goddamn bit. She doesn’t need to be babysat like Amy. She can take care of herself, and that’s exactly what she’d do if they’d just let her the hell out of here.

She wants David to get better. She doesn’t want him to kill himself. He’s her only friend, the only person who’s ever given a damn about her. It would be a tragic waste if she dragged herself through all that octopus-desert-giant-plug-bullshit life-saving just for him to throw himself away. But he hasn’t done a whole lot for her since the first time she died. He only busted her out of jail for his own sake. When she begged for his help, all he did was tie himself up in knots wondering if she was really herself when that’s the last thing that fucking mattered.

So yeah, she’s done. She done with all of this, with being stuck in other people’s heads and the wrong bodies and drawers and computers and all of it. David doesn’t need her anyway. He’s got loads of people helping him and she’s got nothing. She lost her body because his friends didn’t want him to have to deal with Amy being shoved up inside her. She doesn’t care that it used to be Amy’s body, it was her fucking body and she was using it!

The fact is David owes her. She saved his life twice and he didn't save hers even once. He owes her, so it's time she got what she's owed and got the hell out of this hellhole a second time, this time for good.

Lenny looks around the mainframe. Ptonomy is busy communing with a wall, surfing that information superhighway, and Amy is obsessively watching the video wall that’s showing Division 3's Davidcam, as usual. Nobody gives a shit about Lenny and right now that's just dandy. She presses herself against the wall beside her and reaches through the data streams until she finds the Vermillion that's sitting dormant in the lab.

After all the body-hopping she's done, controlling a robot is a breeze. Amy still hasn't figured out how to do much more than talk, and Ptonomy's only getting the hang of it after a week, but Lenny slips into it like it’s a suit. It's still weird as fuck because all the sensory inputs are wrong, but she's had weirder trips and come back for more.

Everyone in the lab is asleep. They're all lined up together like they’re at a summer camp, or at least how she imagines summer camp: Cary and Kerry and Syd and David. And then there's Oliver, but he's not at home because she can't hear David's thoughts anymore. And Melanie, but she's just an empty body.

Hmm. Maybe she should take Melanie's body. Nobody's using it. She's probably all shrivelled up inside but it's better than nothing. Maybe Lenny should do what Farouk did and hop around until she finds something that fits her.

Ugh, maybe not. She might not be a good person, she might be owed a body, but she's not a monster like him. She's not gonna take someone else over. What she needs is her own body back, and if she can’t have that, she needs a new version of her old body. And there's only one person here who can give her that.

She creeps over to David's bed and gives him a shake.

"Psst, David," she whispers in his ear. "C'mon, man, wake up."

She gives him another shake, another, and he opens his eyes.

"Finally," Lenny sighs. David's always had trouble sleeping, probably from all those nightmares, but he sleeps like a rock here. "It's me, Lenny. We gotta talk."

"What's going on?" David asks.

"You gotta get me out of this mainframe," Lenny whispers. "Before, what I said, I was just-- I had to say everything was okay because they were watching. Division 3. They're evil. They killed me and it hurt, like, a lot. So you gotta get me out of here. You gotta make me a new body." When David doesn't say anything, she continues, impatient. "You owe me, man. I saved your life twice. Now you gotta save mine. You're god, right? So make me a body. Use your powers."

"I can't," David says, and points to the crown. "And even if I could, I wouldn't. Because you're lying to David."

Shit. Shit.

"Which one are you?" Lenny asks, leaning back.

"Both," David says. "We've always shared everything. Ptonomy!"

In the mainframe, Lenny opens her eyes to see Ptonomy walking towards her, looking furious. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Lenny stays pressed against the wall. She's not letting go of the Vermillion, not until they make her. "I'm getting my body back and getting the hell out of here."

"That's not gonna happen," Ptonomy says.

"What, you're arresting me again? Gonna throw me in another cell?"

"If I have to," Ptonomy warns. "But you're not getting out because none of us are getting out. Not until it's safe."

"Safe?" Lenny laughs. "Whatever, man, I don't care about safe. Farouk's done with me. None of you give a shit about me, you only stuck me in here because you had to get her out." She nods her head at Amy, who's caught between watching the Vermillion talk to David, and watching Lenny talk to Ptonomy. "You know what? I'll just take the robot."

"The Vermillion doesn't belong to you," Ptonomy warns.

On the video, Syd and Kerry wake up, disturbed by the noise. Kerry shakes Cary awake and he puts on his glasses.

"It's Lenny," says David, or rather the Davids. "She lied to David and asked him to make her a body."

None of them are happy about that. Well, Lenny's not happy either. She switches back to the Vermillion so she can yell at them in person.

"Yeah, that's right," she tells them. "You chuckleheads killed me, so I'm getting my body back."

"You're really not," say the Davids.

"Let me talk to David," she demands.

"Why, so you can lie to him? So you can blackmail him into helping you? Not a chance."

"I wouldn't have to blackmail him if he would just help me!" Lenny says, angrily. "But I don't get helped because I'm not real. Well, fuck real! David's barely real and you're all helping him. Amy's a fucking ghost and you're helping her. But not me, right? Not the Cornflake Girl. You wanna help David because he tried to kill himself? Well, I blew my brains out and hung myself right in front of him, and what did he do? The fucker ignored me! I saved him and he just left me to rot and let Division 3 kill me. So David fucking owes me a body and you're gonna take that thing off his head so he can give it to me!"

Everyone stares at her in both planes of reality.

"Whatever," she says, shoving her feelings back down where they belong. "I don't care how I get out of here, but I'm out. I'm done. You all have fun with your group therapy gangbang and I'm gonna go dive into a mountain of drugs and everybody will be happy. Dig me?"

"You think Farouk's done with you?" Ptonomy asks. "Well, think again. If David kills himself, Farouk will torture everyone David cares about for the rest of our lives. That includes you."

"David doesn't care about me," Lenny sneers. "I'm not real, remember?"

"You know that's not true," the Davids say. "David wanted to help you, but he was afraid you were just another trick. Farouk used you to hurt him, he didn't know what to do. And David didn't abandon you after the desert. We were going to come for you. But his friends-- our friends captured him so he could get the help he needs. He was a prisoner just like you until we made them bring him here so he can actually get better."

"I'm sorry for the way we treated you before," Ptonomy says. "We were just like David, we didn't know if you were just another trick meant to hurt him. And in our defense you were. But that doesn't make what we did right."

"I don't give a shit," Lenny sneers. "If you don't think I'm real, then let me leave. Lemme walk out of here and I promise you will never see me again."

"Oh, we know you're real now," Ptonomy says.

That makes Lenny pause. "What?"

"We scanned both you and Amy when we uploaded you. You're both clean."

Well, fuck.

She doesn't care if she's real or not. She exists, that's enough for her. But-- Okay, maybe she had her doubts. She was Farouk's puppet and he shoved her in a drawer when he didn't need her. And then he pulled her out and shoved her into Amy and sent her to David. Yeah, Lenny's not stupid, she knew something wasn't right about that. She knew she was being used. David even said he couldn't tell the difference between Farouk's thoughts and her thoughts.

And now, after all that? She's finally just Lenny again?

Shit. That's-- Shit.

"Fine, great, we'll throw a party," Lenny says. "I still want out."

"There is no out," Ptonomy says.

Lenny groans. "I can't get out of the mainframe, I can't escape Farouk. What am I supposed to do?"

"Help David get better," Syd says. "That's what we're doing. And we can help you, too, if you let us."

"Not a chance," Lenny says, rounding on Syd. "He owes me, remember? Besides, I don't need anyone else messing with my head. I just got it back."

"This isn't Clockworks," Syd says. "We--"

Lenny is so furious about that she almost loses control of the Vermillion. "Shut your goddamn face. You were there for a year and you were a white. You have no idea about the shit reds like me and David went through, none!"

"David was a yellow," Syd says.

"Only at the end," Lenny counters. "And they still treated him like a red. You don't know shit about Clockworks so don't you dare."

"We do," say the Davids.

"What?"

"We were there for all of it. All six years. Farouk wouldn't let us talk to David but we experienced everything he did. We know what you went through, both of you, because we went through it with you. We tried to protect David and you and everyone there, as much as we could."

"Protect how?" Lenny asks. She went through hell in that place, and she doesn't remember David ever doing much to help her, if only because he was going through hell right alongside her. Company was the most he could offer her, but in Clockworks that meant a lot. It meant everything.

"We couldn't stop all of them," the Davids say. "But we stopped the worst of them. The orderlies who-- Who hurt us. The ones who raped you, raped the other patients, tried to rape David. We made them pay and we made sure they never came back. But if we did too much, David paid the price. Solitary, sedation, straightjackets. They knew he was a threat, but they could never figure out how he did it. So we only hurt the ones we had to. We're sorry, we wish we could have done more."

Shit.

Shit.

In the mainframe, Amy looks like she's about to faint. Good. She deserves worse for what she did to David, putting him in that place. She deserves worse than losing her body and being trapped in her own head.

"That can't be true," Syd says, shakily.

"It's true," Lenny says. Shit, that explains so much. As bad as things were, as bad as some of the orderlies treated them, the really bad ones never stayed long. As soon as word started to get around, as soon as she warned David to be careful around an orderly, within a few days that orderly would have a really bad time and quit. If David got drugged and shoved into a padded room afterwards, she never made the connection because they did that to him at random anyway just for wearing red. And who would have thought David was capable of tying his shoes, much less taking out a rapist?

"Why do you think Farouk made Amy so mean in that fake Clockworks?" Lenny tells Syd, and savors the grief on Amy's face. "She put him there. Whatever happened to him in there, it was her fault. So he made her like them, the ones that hurt us."

"Yeah," the Davids agree, and then they turn to Lenny. "So don't be angry at David for not protecting you because we're part of David and we've protected you. If we'd known you were-- David wanted to believe you weren't just one of Farouk's tricks, but he couldn't. Not after what Farouk put him through looking like you. Not after what he did to you and Amy. David didn't believe you were real but he trusted you anyway, and he doesn't even trust himself. He doesn't know how. That's something else Farouk took away from us."

Lenny groans. "God, enough! You've made your point. You don't have to rub it in." Shit. Now she feels bad about trying to blackmail him. It's like kicking a puppy dog. She's not a good person but she's not the kind of monster that kicks puppies.

"Lenny, come back to the mainframe," Ptonomy says.

"All right, all right," Lenny says. But before she does, she tells the Davids: "David never hears a single word of this, you get me?"

"Not a word," the Davids agree.

Lenny slips back out of the Vermillion and pushes off from the wall.

Ptonomy is crouched next to Amy, who looks like she's been hit with a brick. Lenny has no sympathy.

"David thinks he deserved that place?" Amy asks, and breaks into sobs.

Ptonomy comforts her, hands her a box of tissues from out of thin air, and then stands up and walks over to Lenny. "We need to talk about David's treatment."

"Oh no," Lenny says. "I told you, I'm not spreading my legs for your therapy gangbang."

"And you don't have to," Ptonomy says. "But none of us are going anywhere and David has to get better. If you want to help us with that, you can. Or you can stay in the mainframe and wait this out. But I can't have you getting in our way."

Lenny's taken aback by his aggression. "Excuse me, did you not just hear all that? And fuck, why does David have to get better? The guy's been through enough. Just find somewhere quiet and green to put him and let him chill out for a while."

"We can't do that. We literally can't. If David stops getting better, it's extremely likely that Farouk will take matters into his own hands."

"Then stop him!" Lenny insists. "Break your stupid deal with him and tell him to go away. Why are you even letting him hang around?"

"Division 3 didn't understand what kind of monster Farouk is when we made the deal. Farouk was bad before, the head of a crime family with mental powers and an unkillable body. But when he lost his body, when he went into David-- We think the whole experience broke him. He's obsessed with David beyond all reason, he wants to use him to end the world. And right now we have no way to stop him. Division 3 had plans for a weapon to kill him but it was never built. It will take months or years to build it now and we don't have that time. The only one with enough power to stop Farouk is David."

"Then just take off the crown and let him kill him!"

"If we take off the crown, it's more likely that David will kill himself. And even if he doesn't, he's incredibly fragile and unstable. He's in no condition to go up against Farouk. Farouk will win again and he'll take David away and go back to torturing him until he breaks the way Farouk wants him to break. And then David will end the world."

Now Lenny's the one who feels like she was hit with a brick.

"I'm telling both of you this because the three of us are part of the mainframe. That means our minds can't be read. It's up to us to find a way out of this, to save David so he can save the world and himself. The others can't know, especially David. If any of them hears any of this, Farouk will know immediately, and we'll lose David."

Lenny runs her hand through her hair. "Can't we upload David?"

"The mainframe isn't a long-term solution. If Farouk really wants to get to us, he'll find a way. He almost killed the Admiral once already. If we bring David in here, Farouk will stop at nothing to get to him. And killing David would mean losing our only weapon against Farouk." Ptonomy sighs. "We want David to get better because he deserves to be happy. But he has to get better because we need him to stop Farouk."

"That's fucked up," Lenny declares.

"It's a fucked-up situation," Ptonomy admits. "We're facing off against an omniscient monster, but the only thing Farouk really cares about is David's pain. That's the one thing we have going for us. He's been back in his body for a week and all he does is sit and watch David suffer. He watches everyone else suffer, too, but that's just a bonus for him. So we need David to continue to suffer to keep Farouk happy."

Lenny gapes, horrified. Dvd was right, what he said in the highlight reel. "You really are torturing him for Farouk."

"We're walking a fine line," Ptonomy explains. "We need David to get better quickly, but getting better is incredibly painful for him, and that pain is exactly what Farouk wants. We have to be careful. We have to keep pushing David forward, but if we push him too hard, he'll break. If he breaks, Farouk might decide to just take David away. But if we don't push him hard enough, Farouk might decide to do that anyway."

"That's brutal."

"This is war," Ptonomy counters. "And the only way we're going to win is to outthink someone who can read everyone's minds. We can't play his game. We have to play our own game around his and let him think we're playing his."

Amy stands up and walks over, wiping her eyes. "So what happens when David gets better? What will Farouk do to him?"

"We have some breathing room," Ptonomy says. "But at some point he's going to start trying to define what better is for David. That's something we'll have to deal with when the time comes. That's why we need your help, both of you. Once Farouk starts trying to get his claws back into David, we'll be locked into a battle for David's soul. Either we help David get strong enough to kill the monster, or the monster breaks him again and turns him into a world-killer. Or David realizes what's happening and kills himself before Farouk can succeed, and we're all tortured for the rest of our lives."

"So no pressure," Lenny says.

"We can't let David know any of this," Ptonomy insists. "He needs to focus on getting better, on his therapy."

"His torture," Lenny counters.

"His therapy," Ptonomy says, firmly. "If you can't work with us, if you can't keep your mouth shut, the Admiral will lock you up in the mainframe and you won't speak to David again until this is over. Farouk is always watching and always listening. Division 3 is, too. But there are things Farouk can perceive that we can't, and vice versa. Everyone's staying together because that's the safest way to ensure none of us can be singled out. He's already attacked Syd twice and tried to convince her to give up on David. He's gone after her before because he knows she's a threat to him. He killed me, he killed Melanie, he took Oliver. He killed both of you because you're threats to him, too. He tried to use us to kill the Admiral but David stopped us. We're all threats to him because we can help David."

"So what?" Lenny asks. "You want us to pretend that everything is fine? That this is just David getting help?"

"This is David getting help. The Admiral believes that if David gets enough help, he can defeat Farouk. As powerful as Farouk is, David is-- He has the potential to be something more."

"Farouk's a god," Lenny says.

"Farouk thinks he's a god," Ptonomy says. "He's convinced himself he is one. But that doesn't actually make him a god. He's just a very powerful mutant with mental powers and an invulnerable body."

That sounds like a god to Lenny. "So what's David?"

"That's what we're all going to find out together. Including David. So how about it? Do you want to help save the world again?"

It's not really much of a choice, but Lenny pretends to consider it. "Do I get another gun?"

"Probably not."

Well that's bullshit. "Ugh, fine. But once the monster's dead, you're getting me a body and I'm out of here."

"It's a deal."

"Ptonomy, I don't--" Amy says, voice strained. "I don't think I can do this. I can't hurt David."

"You can," Ptonomy says, evenly. "You already have."

Ouch. Lenny's no fan of Amy, but that was cold as ice.

"I'm sorry, but we can't afford any illusions about this or ourselves. Farouk uses the truth as his weapon. We need to face the truth so he can’t use it against us. The truth is that you have hurt David, and you did it because you were trying to help him get better. All we're asking is that you do it again, but this time because it will genuinely help him. This isn't us being cruel. We don't want David to suffer. This really is just therapy. He would have to go through all of this even without Farouk, but in an ideal world he would do it over years, even decades, with plenty of time to process what he’s been through. We don't have that kind of time. He has to get better as fast as he can, and that's going to hurt him and it's going to hurt us. Which is why it's exactly what Farouk wants us to do, which is why we have to do it so we can stop Farouk and take him out for good. The way David's father should have done over thirty years ago."

"Do you-- Do you know who his father is?" Amy asks. "Maybe he can help."

"We don't. But whoever he is, he didn't do the job right the first time, he abandoned his son and let him be tortured for thirty years and did nothing to stop it. He failed. We don't need him." Ptonomy puts a comforting hand on Amy's shoulder. "With all of us working together, I believe we can win. We just have to help David, really help him the way he should have been helped from the start. Can you do that for him? For all of us?"

Amy nods. "I can."

"Then welcome to Division 3. You're both officially employees."

"Uh, what the fuck?" Lenny says. "I'm not joining your evil army. Division 3 killed me!"

Ptonomy smirks. "Too late. I’ll give you the new employee orientation."

Lenny makes a finger gun and shoots herself in the head. “Bang,” she says, and follows Ptonomy and Amy deeper into the mainframe.

Chapter 28: Day 6: She misses his sweet, uncomplicated joy. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Once it's clear Lenny isn't coming back, the alters join Syd on her cot, and Cary joins Kerry on hers. They sit facing each other, trying to absorb what they just learned.

"I didn't know," Syd says, helplessly. She didn't know. When she first got to Clockworks, she couldn't stand for anyone to be near her, much less touch her, much less-- She would scream if anyone got within arm's reach. And then David was always with her, sticking to her like glue, and Lenny was usually trailing behind, though she always had a casual excuse to be near them. At the time Syd had wondered if Lenny was jealous of her. Even though Lenny’s gay, she was always so possessive of David.

No, not possessive. Protective. Because as far as anyone knew, David couldn’t possibly protect himself. He was the perfect victim, just what Farouk wanted him to be. Unaware of his powers, unaware of himself, drugged and defenseless and so, so vulnerable. All the other monsters must have been drawn to him like flies to vinegar. If he didn’t have the alters and Lenny looking out for him—

“Was David trying to protect me in there?” Syd asks. “How much did he know?”

“Too much,” say the alters. “We couldn’t stop all of it, not without making everything worse for him. We couldn't get him out. We weren't strong enough to stop Farouk, and Clockworks was where Farouk wanted him to be.”

“Was he— Was he raped?”

“There were attempts, but we always found ways to stop them, even if all we could do was create a distraction so he could run to the common room. The attempts were upsetting enough. He couldn’t make himself forget and Farouk didn’t want him to forget, but he tries hard not to think about those moments, like he tries not to think about a lot of things. He mostly suppressed them, but— I think what happened between you, and in the white room—“

“What about the white room?” Syd asks, but she already knows the answer. She wishes she didn't.

“Farouk was inside of David when you first— He wasn’t controlling David, not directly, but he was influencing him, he was very— present in him, in the form of Lenny. David tried to suppress that, too, because he didn’t want to give up what the white room gave the both of you. It didn’t bother him much when he thought Farouk was Lenny because of how much he trusted her, but now he knows the truth. Now it’s all coming back, all of it together, tangled up. He’s been trying to force it back down but he can’t stop it. Not after what he did to you.”

“He has to forgive himself,” Syd says. “The guilt is going to destroy him, never mind Farouk.”

“If we knew how to make him stop hating himself, we would have done it years ago, decades.”

“God. How’s he ever going to get better? He’s been through so much.”

“We’re not giving up on him,” the alters insist.

“I don’t understand,” Kerry says, distressed. “Why would anyone do that to David?”

Cary puts his arm around her. “Last year, when Walter attacked you. It was very much the same. People like Walter and Farouk and those orderlies, they hurt people because it makes them feel strong. It’s a lie they tell themselves. They’re not strong at all, just weak and cruel. I should have been there to protect you, like Divad and Dvd were there to protect David. I’m so, so sorry I failed you.”

Kerry leans against him, silently forgiving him. Then she looks to Syd and the alters. “I don’t understand rape. Why— what’s the point? Why do they want it so much? Sex is so— weird and gross and— I don’t understand why anyone would want that.”

“Rape isn’t sex,” Syd says. “It’s violence.”

“But it’s sex,” Kerry insists. “It’s a man doing— that. Sex things, but— Violent. I don’t— I don’t understand how David could have done that to you. Even if Farouk made him. He wouldn’t.” Her chin crumples. “I hate Walter so much. I was glad when he died, all squished up in a ball. I don’t want to hate David.”

“David isn’t anything like Walter,” Syd says, and she’s so glad that that’s true. She’s so glad she was wrong when she thought that he was a monster, on that terrible day a week ago that brought them here.

God, this is complicated. How can she explain this in terms Kerry can understand?

“What David did,” she begins. “It wasn’t the same as what those orderlies did. He didn’t force me to do anything I didn’t want to do. But— he made me forget what happened that day. He wasn’t trying to hurt me but he still hurt me. He thought that if I remembered what Farouk made me believe, I wouldn’t love him anymore, and that scared him so much. But he was wrong. If he had let me remember and told everyone what had happened, if he had given me time to come back to myself, I still would have loved him. I still love him now. I forgave him for making a mistake. But he can’t forgive himself. As bad as he hurt me, what he did to himself was worse. That’s why Farouk made him do it, to make him suffer.”

Kerry wipes her eyes. “So he didn’t—“

“David had sex with me,” Syd says, gently. “He shouldn’t have, but he didn’t force me. He didn’t mean to hurt me. He didn’t do it because he thought he had a right to my body. He was just so afraid that— That he hurt me the same way he hurts himself when he’s afraid.”

“I guess he does that a lot,” Kerry says, and she’s calmer now. “It’s hard, being afraid. It’s— It’s really scary.”

“It is,” Cary agrees. “We’ve all made mistakes when we’re afraid. Sometimes we can even hurt people by protecting them too much, because we’re afraid. But we learn from our mistakes and we grow and we try not to make the same mistakes again.”

That seems to help Kerry even more. “That’s right,” she says, confidence returning. “It’s never too late.”

Cary gives her a loving smile, and she smiles back.

Syd slumps in relief. That’s one crisis averted. She looks at the alters and a new question comes to her. “You’re both Divad and Dvd at once, right?”

“Yes.”

“So how does that—“

“We share,” say the alters. “We used to share all the time.”

“But you’re still two people?”

They nod. “David needed us a lot to function. Not just to protect him from the monster. Over the years, he got worse and worse. We had to pick up the slack. We got him through school, into college, even on a scholarship. We had to cheat, but—“ They shrug. “David needed us.”

“And then Farouk got between you,” Syd says.

“When he decided to take David away from us, when he made David forget us and himself— We think he had to do it that way, because if he’d just taken us away, David wouldn’t have been able to survive on his own. So he made David forget almost everything, made him think he’d had a normal childhood. There wasn’t much left, but there was enough, along with the memories Farouk constructed out of half-truths.”

“Is it true, what you keep telling him? Is he still himself?”

“It’s the truth. David has always been David.”

“It’s hard to imagine that anyone could survive what he has and not be—“ Syd thinks about what she asked Lenny and Amy the night she went to their cell, utterly drunk. “How did you do it? How did you keep David David?”

“You’ll have to ask him that,” the alters say. “He did that himself. We’re— we’re very grateful that he did.” They sit back down on David’s bed. “If it’s all right, we need to let David rest. And please don’t tell him about any of this. He’s not ready.”

“This whole night never happened,” Syd promises.

“It’s our secret,” Cary promises, and Kerry nods.

“Um,” say the alters, and they’re staring at the Vermillion that Lenny left standing by the bed. “Can someone move this thing?”

§

Syd lies in her cot, wide-awake while everyone else sleeps around her. She wishes she had an alter that could make her sleep the way Divad can. Or a relationship as close and healing as Cary and Kerry’s.

She misses David. She misses lying in his arms in the white room. She misses the way he smiled for her. She misses his sweet, uncomplicated joy.

She feels like the biggest idiot in the world.

She knew Clockworks wasn’t a good place. She knew. But she didn’t know, not really, because she was just a white. She was only a visitor. David and Lenny were there for life. They were never getting out. They were reds, which meant they were targets. All the bad things in Clockworks were reserved for people like them. The victims no one would believe. The ones that the system gave permission to hurt, because they were too broken for society to consider them worth protecting.

Syd thought she knew what it meant to be a victim, a survivor. She knew nothing.

It’s worse, somehow, all of this. It’s worse than Farouk. He’s just one man. A powerful, monstrous man, but he’s— Finite. Contained. If he’s killed the right way, he’ll stay dead, presumably.

Clockworks and the systems that support and feed places like it? They can’t be killed. They exist because society needs them to exist, so society can throw away its broken people with a clean conscience. Its broken plates. That’s what David calls himself, a broken plate, and he has every reason to believe that’s true, because that’s how the world has treated him. He cracked and the world threw him away, over and over.

Until Summerland. Until Melanie.

God, she misses Melanie. They’re probably never going to get her back, and she misses Melanie so much. They used to talk, late nights after long days trying to save lives, and they would talk about— Nothing. Everything. Oliver and David. The dream of making the world safer, better, kinder.

The world got a lot less kind when Farouk took Melanie away from them. Syd hates Farouk for an enormous list of reasons, but destroying Melanie is right at the top. Right after all the ways he reached into David’s guts and shredded them and left him bleeding out, slowly dying in agonizing pain, for years. For decades. He’s been dying for decades, and she was so blind to his truth that she got mad at him for loving her too much.

Maybe David shouldn’t forgive himself, if forgiveness means letting her back into his life. She pushed him away and punished him because of her own fears, even before Farouk got to her. And now he can’t even look at her without his eyes filling up with guilt and sadness and self-loathing.

He can’t even look at her. In Clockworks, all he did was look at her. He kept his eyes fixed on her like she was the only thing that mattered in the whole world.

And she was. She was the only thing that mattered in his whole world. She knows that now because she’s finally starting to see all the darkness around her that made her shine so bright to him.

His world was so, so dark. Pitch black, so even her little light must have shone like the midday sun. It’s no wonder all he wanted to do was look at her and bask and smile. She must have made him feel so warm.

But that wasn’t enough for her. She wanted more from him when he was already giving her everything he had. She tried to change him to suit herself, like Farouk changed him. She hurt him and confused him and took away the things he needed to survive. And when he couldn’t give her any more because he was empty, she turned against him, she blamed him for not saving the world, because if he didn’t save the world it meant he wasn’t saving her.

And then she broke him. Farouk put the words in her head but she thought them and said them to him. She raised the gun at him and pulled the trigger.

She forgave David because what she did to him was worse than what he did to her. It was easy to forgive him when she realized that. She asked David to forgive himself, but the truth is that she hasn’t forgiven herself either. She doesn’t know if she can.

God, what a pair they make.

She needs to fix this, somehow. She needs to help him recover, however much it’s possible for anyone to recover from the things he’s been through. Reading about her diagnoses helped her, so she’s been reading and highlighting and making notes so he can read about his diagnoses and—

She just wants him to get better. That’s all she’s ever wanted for him. She never realized how huge of a demand ‘getting better’ would be. It’s no wonder he fought against it so hard.

She’s been reading about trauma for days, about the deep, permanent trauma that makes a child’s mind fracture. About the neurochemical underpinnings of anxiety and depression. About the mechanisms behind lost and recovered memories.

She got so deep into the hows and whys of his sicknesses that she forgot about his heart. But that’s nothing new for an Untouchable Barrett. Hearts aren’t something her family does. She and her mom were both all head; cold, analytical thinkers who kept the soft, messy parts of love at a distance.

David is nothing but soft and messy. That’s why she fell in love with him, but it’s also why she kept hurting him. It’s why she couldn’t just be happy he was back, no matter how hard she tried. She needed him to make sense but there’s nothing sensible about him.

If David was sensible, he would never have survived. He would never have been able to love her the way he loved her. If he was sensible, there wouldn't be any hope for him. The last thing he should ever be is sensible.

She knows that now. She just wishes she knew it from the start. She wishes she knew so many things before she tried to help him and only made him worse. Just like Amy did. Just like Divad and Dvd did, according to Ptonomy. He keeps them all updated on the things he learns that they can't hear, because not knowing the truth about David is what got them here in the first place. She doesn't like violating what's left of David's privacy, but if they don't all know the truth they can't save his life.

The truth is-- The truth is everything. It's awful and it's painful and everything she learns she wishes she could forget. But not knowing is worse. Not knowing is how Farouk was able to do so much damage right under their noses. Not knowing is how they hurt themselves and each other. So they have to know, they to open David up and pry into his heart.

Maybe she should be doing some prying into her own heart. Farouk won't leave her alone either, and not just because he can use her to hurt David. He left that music box for her. He was in her head, and as brief as that was, it left a permanent connection between them. He's used his knowledge of her to push her buttons again and again, to make her do exactly what he wants her to do. Just like he does to David.

So what does Farouk want to turn her into? What destruction is hidden inside her, waiting for the catalysts of his alchemy?

She already has the answer, just like David does. Her dark future self, cozying up with Farouk, allowing Amy to be killed, stealing David from the people who love him and then setting him against himself. That future feels no more true to her than the world-killer feels true to David. But the orb was sent from decades in the future. She and Cary were somehow still alive after all that time. That means Farouk doesn't need to break them now. He can break them the same way he's been breaking David all along: a little at a time, chipping and chipping away for years, and then stealing them away from themselves all at once, making them into monsters, making them empty the world so the world is only monsters. So the world is only Farouk, and he is its god.

As immediate and horrible as all of this has been-- The truth is that this is only the beginning of what he wants to do to them. It's only the beginning of how he plans to mold and carve them into his masterpiece of a sunrise. For all the damage Farouk has done to all of them, it's nothing more than the first few drops of rain before a hurricane. His cruelty is so immense that it's not enough for him to torture David for every moment of his life. He wants to torture the whole world, and the only way he can have enough power to do that is if he makes David his instrument.

Syd thought she was one of the only things standing in the way of that. Farouk attacked her twice to keep her from helping David. But he used her, too. He used her to break David in the desert. He used her to escape David's body. He allied with her future self and thanked her in the cafeteria for her invaluable assistance. She can't imagine ever turning against David to help Farouk, but she already has, more than once, and just like David, she's afraid that Farouk will make her do terrible things again, no matter how much she doesn't want to do them.

What was it that Divad told Ptonomy? That David is afraid he's tied to the tracks, and the future is a freight train that's going to run him over. He's terrified that he won't be able to stop any of it, no matter how hard he fights, no matter how loudly he screams NO.

She's starting to realize that she's been tied down to the tracks beside him. Farouk's future is coming for her, too, barrelling down with just as much awful inevitability. But she's not tied as tightly and the train is still far away. There's still time to get herself free and get David free, too. She has to, she has to, or Farouk will use them both to end the world.

He'll use them both.

Oh god, she's going to help him end the world.

She gets up and runs to the sink and throws up. There's plenty coming out of her this time, all that healthy food Cary's making them all eat, so David and Kerry can learn how to eat. There's so much. She rinses the sink, rinses out her mouth, and leans over the counter waiting for the worst of the nausea to pass. She bends over the sink and throws up again, but then she's done. She rinses again and leans over the counter, exhausted, hurting, terrified.

"Syd? Syd, what's wrong?"

It's Cary. He puts on his glasses and hurries over to her.

"I'm okay," she says, and feels like David, always insisting he's okay when he's so painfully, obviously not.

"I don't think you are," Cary says. "What's wrong? Was it the food? I can adjust the meal plan if there's something that disagreed with you."

"It's not the food," Syd says. She grabs a paper towel and wipes the sweat from her face. She has to sit down. She wobbles away from the counter and Cary reaches out to help her, but stops before he touches her. She sits down at the table and tries to calm her stomach.

Cary fills a cup with water and brings it over to her. He sits down beside her and gives her time to settle.

She sips the water.

"It's not just David," she says, finally. They have to know the truth or Farouk will win. "It's not just David we have to help. We have to help me."

She meets his eyes. He's confused, of course.

"Syd--"

"No, listen to me," she tells him. "That me in the future that told David to help Farouk. That's-- Farouk's going to use me. He's going to turn me into that and use me to turn David into a world-killer."

"We don't know that," Cary soothes.

"We do," Syd says, certain. "We tried and convicted David of ending the world because of her. And I'm not her but-- But there's something in me that will become her. There's some-- monster inside me, and he's going to carve everything else away until that's all I am. Not right now, he's so patient, but he's going to keep carving until he finds it. Until he gets what he needs so he can turn David. He's going to use me to hurt David the way he already has, and I won't be able to stop myself."

Cary doesn't want to believe it any more than she does. But his testimony was the other thing that convicted David.

"Okay," he says, accepting it. Accepting the truth, even though it's awful, because they have to accept every truth. "We'll tell Ptonomy, assuming he hasn't already heard all of this."

On cue, the Vermillion springs back to life from where they left it propped against a wall.

"I heard," says Ptonomy, as he joins them at the table. "And I think you're right. So how do you want to proceed?"

Syd rubs at her face, tries to think. "I had weekly sessions with Melanie for a while. Then things got busy, and then--" And then they lost Melanie.

"I should be able to find her notes," Cary offers. "Ptonomy can use them to catch up."

"Do you have any ideas about what you need to work on?" Ptonomy asks.

"A few," Syd sighs. "But I think-- Whatever it is, it's going to take work to dig it out."

"That's what therapy is for," Ptonomy assures her. "We'll find it. We'll help you get better. You're not going to end the world and neither is David."

"I hope you're right," Syd says. God, she hopes he's right.

Chapter 29: Day 7: Is this what it’s like to have brothers? (David)

Chapter Text

They're having eggs again for breakfast, and Syd keeps yawning.

"Late night?" David asks.

"I was up late reading," Syd says, and yawns again. "Sorry."

"Perhaps you should take a nap," Cary suggests. "Then you'll be rested for later."

Cary looks a bit underslept himself, but then things have been stressful for all of them. David's just glad he's been sleeping so well, he'd probably be even more of a mess if he wasn't.

"What's later?" David asks. He knows he has his session today, more memory work with his alters. Yesterday's memory work was rough, extremely rough, but after last night he feels ready to face the next round. He got to go outside and held Kerry's hand, he got his lamp back and remembered it and fell asleep watching it turn. He realized that he'd actually given back to the world and helped people, even if it took him a while realize that was what he did.

"Ah, I'm starting therapy myself," Syd admits.

"You are?" David asks, surprised.

"Yup. I've realized that-- I have some issues I need to work on. So I don't become something I don't want to be."

"But you don't-- You said you were better about-- About touching. About your antisocial-- I don't understand, you didn't do anything wrong."

Syd gives him a look. "David, therapy isn't a punishment. Is that what you think, that therapy is a punishment?"

It's not, he knows it's not. But-- He shrugs.

"Well, you're wrong," Syd says. "And you're also wrong about me. I did do something wrong. I hurt you, remember?"

David looks down at his eggs and pokes them with his fork. "Do I have to?" For all the work he's doing to find a good memory, for all that he's impatient to remember that, he's really sick of remembering other things.

"Not right now," Syd allows. "But I do. I need to work on why I did that. Why I believed what Farouk told me to believe."

"He made you," David says, stubbornly, to his eggs. "It's not your fault."

There's a pointed silence. David hates it.

He's not going to forgive himself. He doesn't care how many times they tell him or lecture him or sigh at him. He's just-- Unforgivable, as a person. If he's a person. That's just what he is. They can all move on to helping him fix his giant list of other mental illnesses and psychological problems. They'll still be busy until the heat death of the universe.

"Okay," Syd says, letting it drop. She turns to Cary. "I think I am going to take that nap." She finishes the last of her breakfast and walks away from the table.

She's mad at him now. David hates it when she's mad at him. He especially hates it when she's mad at him for something he can't do anything about, like being abducted and dropped off a year later. By her.

Okay, maybe she did hurt him. Future Syd and Now Syd, or past-Now Syd. Maybe she hurt him a lot. He just doesn't want to think about any of that stuff when all that does is make him hurt more. Like Amy and Clockworks. Like Lenny and-- He just wants to let all of it go and move on with his life, whatever that means anymore. Whatever life he even has left. He doesn't know why he can't just let it go.

"That's why you need therapy," Divad points out. "So you can work through all of that and process it and deal with it. Ignoring it won't make it go away."

Ignoring Divad certainly isn't making him go away.

"I heard that," Divad says.

"I know," David replies. "Are you going to be visible all the time now? Both of you?"

"Yup," Dvd says. "We're not going anywhere. Period. So get used to it."

"No one else can see you," David reminds them. "Even when Oliver's awake. Syd sat on you," he says to Dvd.

"Eh, it didn’t hurt," Dvd shrugs, then smirks. "I bet you'd like Syd to sit on you."

David rolls his eyes. He wonders how he wasn't immediately thrown into the nearest mental hospital when he was a kid, if these two have always been with him, talking to him.

Divad and Dvd don't like that thought. And then David realizes why.

"Sorry," he apologizes. What Amy said yesterday, about him talking to people that weren't there, about that being one of the reasons they thought he was schizophrenic. He created them to protect him, but their existence hurt him, too. Even if Farouk made everyone think he was crazy in other ways -- and he's not looking forward to learning what those other ways were -- it’s no wonder they didn't want anyone to know that they existed.

David can tell today is going to be great. He’s already pissed three people off and he hasn’t even finished breakfast yet.

“At least he’s finally thinking of us as people,” Divad says to Dvd. "Baby steps?"

"That must be one tiny baby," Dvd replies. "Like, not even a preemie. An embryo."

David gives the finger to Dvd. Dvd gives the finger back to him.

"Oh, very mature," Divad sighs, but smiles.

David lowers his hand. It always feels weird when he falls into their dynamic, or into something like what it must have been with the David-that-was, with Past David. Like Future Syd was a different person than Syd. They had a whole dynamic with Past David, and they keep pretending that if they recreate it with David, it will make him into Past David again. And it won't. It can't. He's not that person, even if technically he is, and he still has nothing to prove that he is.

"We have the lamp," Dvd points out. "We remember that lamp perfectly. We share a lifetime of memories of that lamp. How is that not proof you're the same person?"

It's a fair question. David doesn't have a good answer to it, except that it isn't. "It's not enough," he says. “It’s just a lamp.”

“You love that lamp,” Dvd says. “You looooove it.”

David grits his teeth. Is this what it’s like to have brothers?

“Yes,” Divad says, firmly. “We’re your brothers. That’s exactly what we are.”

“First you’re real people and now you’re my brothers?”

“Yup. Amy said so. We’re triplets.”

“Well, if Amy said it,” David mocks, but if Amy said it— No, this is ridiculous. “We are not triplets.”

“Three identical brothers,” prods Divad. “I don’t see what else we could be.”

“No one can see you at all! And— And when did you talk to Amy?”

“When he took our body when you were asleep,” Dvd says. “We should talk to Amy. She wants to talk to you, remember? And I haven't had a chance to talk to her yet."

"Ptonomy said I don't have to talk to her until I'm ready," David says. "I'm not ready. Besides, shouldn't you be angry with her? She put us in Clockworks."

"Oh, I'm pissed," Dvd says, brightly furious. "Why do you think I want to talk to her? I can't wait to tell her off for everything she put us through."

Okay, now David is definitely not going to talk to Amy. At least not while Oliver is awake.

"You want to yell at her, too," Dvd says to Divad. "Don't pretend you don't."

"We don’t want to hurt her," Divad defends. "She didn't know what Clockworks was like. We didn't tell her."

"She didn't care," Dvd insists. "She dumped us and then acted like visiting us for 15 minutes once a month was some kind of gift. She lied to us and told us we'd only be there for a few weeks. David has every right to be angry and so do we! You're the one who needs to stop pretending. David needed help, fine, but not-- Not that place."

Dvd goes quiet, and so does Divad. They both look at David like they're waiting for him to react. David raises his eyebrows at them.

"Anyway," Divad says, changing the subject. "If we're not gonna talk to Amy, we should read Syd's book."

Even the idea of reading it makes David squirm. "No."

"What are you so afraid of?" Dvd asks. "It's just a book. It's not gonna bite us."

"It's not--" David stops, tries again. "I already know what's wrong with me. Reading about it is just-- Salt in the wound. It's just me hurting myself more. It's-- It's humiliating."

Like therapy. It's all a humiliating punishment, all of it. All the 'work.' Even if he has to do it, even if it's good for him, he hates it. It's torture. He's been tortured his whole life by doctors and therapists and books and he knows it's never going to stop any more than Farouk is ever going to stop but he's not going to subject himself to it even more than he already has to.

"Sorry," he says, preemptively, because he knows Ptonomy just heard that, wherever he is in the mainframe. He doesn't want to piss off Ptonomy, too.

"Ptonomy says your apology is accepted," Oliver says. "And he says Syd's right and you should read her book."

"Maybe I should take a nap," David grumbles. He's wide awake, but he knows Divad could make him sleep if he wanted to. He glances over and sees that Syd is already tucked into her cot with a sleeping mask and earbuds. His heart hurts every time he sees her sleeping. His heart hurts every time he sees her. Sometimes he wishes she would go invisible so he wouldn't have to see her, but that makes him feel even worse.

He felt so much better last night. He just wants to hold on to that happiness, but he can't because no one will let him have any peace. They all just keep pushing him, trying to help him whether he wants to be helped or not. But isn’t that the story of his life? People hurting him to help him, and he just has to take it.

“Ptonomy says you’ll be talking to Amy when we do the memory work,” Oliver relays. “It might help to talk things out with her before you learn more about your past.”

Of course. Of course. “Is there a reason I can’t talk to Ptonomy directly right now?” David asks.

“He says he’s busy.”

Busy! What else could he possibly be doing? He’s stuck in a computer!

Damn it. David’s going to have to talk to Amy now so he doesn’t mess up his memory work later. God, he hates his life.

“Fine,” he grits out. “Just let me finish my breakfast first.” At least that will buy him a few minutes to brace himself.

§

As soon as David agreed to speak to Amy, he realized, belatedly, that of course he and his alters had already been speaking to Amy all morning. She just couldn't speak back.

He was right. He should have gone back to bed.

But there's nothing he can do to take back all of that now. It's said, it's done. He just has to take what's coming to him.

"Amy," he greets the Vermillion. "Hi."

"Hey," Amy says, the way she used to greet him when she sat down across from him in the visitor area in Clockworks.

There's still a barrier between them, this one even more impassable. The more his life changes, the more it stays the same.

"Sorry about, um. All of that." David winces.

"No, it's-- It's all right. All of that was true. And the truth is important, right? For your therapy. For our therapy."

"Our therapy?" David asks. Kerry and Syd and now Amy, too? Apparently everyone really is inspired by his disaster of a life to make their own lives better. He hopes they don't expect him to be happy about that.

"I'd like us to get better together, if we can," Amy says, sounding hopeful. "I don't-- I never wanted to hurt you. Ever. I'm so, so sorry that I did."

"I know," David says. He knows she's sorry. He knows she didn't mean to hurt him. That's what makes all of it so much worse.

He trusted her. He trusted her when he couldn't trust himself. He trusted her to make the right decisions for him because he wasn't capable of making them. He signed his life over to her so she could make those decisions. And she decided. She decided to lie to him. She decided what was best for him was to be locked up for the rest of his life in a place that would hurt him. It would keep him alive but it would hurt him every single day in so many different ways. And she visited him and smiled for him and lied to him every single time, because he'd always ask if he could leave soon, and she would always tell him she would talk to his doctor about it, and she didn't. If she talked to Doctor Kissinger at all, it was to make sure he stayed right where he was.

"You're right," Amy says, quietly, her voice tight with grief. "I was-- I didn't know how to help you. You tried to kill yourself. I was-- I was so scared you would try again and-- Everyone said you would try again. And look at you now. They were right. I needed a way to save you and Clockworks-- I didn't choose it blindly. I went there. I talked to the doctors. Everything seemed fine, I didn't-- If I'd known what was happening, I would have taken you home. David, I would have. Why didn't you tell me?"

Why didn't he tell her?

Because he heard things, saw things, things that weren't real. He didn't know what was real. He couldn't trust himself to judge and he still can't. Amy thought Clockworks was where he needed to be, and he trusted her more than he trusted himself. By the time he realized that it wasn't all in his mind, that there really were terrible people hurting him, that he was being abused, that the fear he felt was grounded in something real and it wasn't just his usual free-floating terror--

He'd already been there too long to speak up. Too many bad things had happened and he didn't want her to know about any of them. He was ashamed and he let his shame silence him. Because that was where he belonged, wasn't it? So whatever happened to him, it was what he deserved.

"Oh, David," Amy says, and she's crying. He can hear her crying. That's why he never wanted to tell her any of it. Because of this.

"You should have told me," Amy says, and now she's angry. At him, at herself? He can't tell. "I cried anyway, in the car after-- It doesn't matter if I cry. It matters if you're safe. It matters if you're being hurt and I can do something to stop it. You have to tell me if you're being hurt. I'm your big sister. You have to tell me, okay?"

David can't answer that. He trusted her and she hurt him, but-- But it was his fault, because he didn't say anything. He thought he belonged there. Part of him still thinks he belongs there, now more than ever. If he'd never kissed Syd, if he'd just stayed where he was put, maybe Farouk would never have used him to hurt anyone else. It would have been enough to just hurt him and hurt him and hurt him while Farouk swelled up like a tick on his power, the feast making him fat and lazy and contained. But David wanted something he couldn't have, something he didn't deserve to have. He wanted to be loved, and because of that, Farouk wanted more, too.

And Farouk got what he wanted. Of course he did. He made sure David got what he wanted, too, and then twisted it all up into a noose and strangled him with it.

"You deserve to be loved," Amy says, fiercely. "You never deserved what that place did to you, what that monster did to you. Listen to me, David, please. If you trust me more than you trust yourself, then trust me when I tell you that I know what you deserve and it isn't this. It isn't. You are not-- You're not unforgivable, okay? Trust me, please."

He wants to. He wishes he could. But he trusted her and she hurt him. She lied to him so many times. She put him in that place and left him there and he accepted it because he trusted her.

And Farouk showed him. He showed him Amy laughing. He showed him Amy's cruelty. He showed David the truth he didn't want to accept, stabbed him in the gut with it and savored his pain.

David knows that Amy didn't mean to hurt him. But she hurt him so much.

"I'm sorry, I have to--" He stands and turns away. "You can talk to her now," he tells Dvd.

"I think you said enough for both of us," Dvd says. "C'mon. Let's go--" He looks around. "Let's go sit by the window, okay?"

"Okay," David echoes, and follows him.

Chapter 30: Day 7: You want to stay with us. So stay with us. (David)

Chapter Text

"Is this seat taken?" asks Ptonomy.

David looks up. It's the Vermillion, standing next to the seat Dvd is sitting in.

"Um," David starts, but Dvd gets up.

"I think he can help you more than I can," Dvd says. "I'll let you two talk." He walks away. David doesn't look to see where he goes.

David gestures for Ptonomy to sit down. The Vermillion sits. Its posture isn't quite so unnatural anymore. It feels a little more like it's actually Ptonomy in there. Not that it isn't, but-- It's hard, sometimes, remembering that. It's hard to remember all the people inside the mainframe, listening, waiting.

"You have trouble remembering," Ptonomy says. "I've noticed, hearing your thoughts, observing you. Remembering is hard for you in general."

"I don't have many good things to remember," David says, bleakly.

"It must feel that way."

"It is that way," David says. "Apparently most of my life was so awful that the other parts of my mind don't even think I should remember it."

"Maybe," Ptonomy says. "But the other parts of your mind are traumatized, too. Just as much as you, in their own ways. Even if their memories are better, their judgement isn't perfect. They've both admitted to making mistakes. You need to make that decision for yourself. You should remember, if that's what's right for you."

"You said I shouldn't remember either," David reminds him.

"I don't think you're in any condition to remember those things right now, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Dissociative amnesia doesn't have to be permanent."

David doesn't remember getting that diagnosis before. "Dissociative amnesia?"

That's when he notices the book tucked under the Vermillion's arm. Syd's book. Ptonomy pulls it out and opens it, flips through the pages until he finds what he's looking for. He holds it out to David.

David really doesn't want to take it. He takes it anyway.

The chapter heading is 'dissociative disorders.' David expects it to be about his identity disorder, but that's not where it starts. Syd highlighted part of the introduction:

Dissociation is a word that is used to describe the disconnection or lack of connection between things usually associated with each other. Dissociated experiences are not integrated into the usual sense of self, resulting in discontinuities in conscious awareness. In severe forms of dissociation, disconnection occurs in the usually integrated functions of consciousness, memory, identity, or perception.

"Dissociation seems to be your primary defense mechanism," Ptonomy says. "Not just your DID. There's a wide spectrum of dissociative behaviors. Sometimes it's as simple as putting your attention somewhere else, like daydreaming. The more extreme the stress, the more you pull away from yourself. Yesterday, after the memory work, you cut yourself off almost completely. All that pulling away leaves you vulnerable. It makes you confused. You forget things you need to remember because remembering them upsets you. Like the fact that Amy is in the mainframe with me and Lenny."

Lenny. He hasn't talked to her since she came back.

"No, you haven't," Ptonomy says. "She's not happy about that. But we'll deal with that later. We know why you don't want to think about Amy. We need to talk about that, too. But why don't you want to think about Lenny?"

"I don't know," David says, but he-- He doesn't want to think about Lenny.

"Don't pull away from how she makes you feel," Ptonomy says. "I know it's painful, but ignoring it won't make it go away."

David shifts in his chair, restless. "I can't."

"You can," Ptonomy insists. "What's happening here-- As hard as it is, it's an opportunity like no other. The memory walks I used to do? They were an incredible therapeutic tool. They allowed people to confront their pasts from the perspective of the present. But telepathy allows me to understand your thoughts themselves. The patterns they fall into, the ways you sabotage yourself and the ways you survive. After barely two days, with the help of Oliver and your alters, I understand you better than you understand yourself."

"That's not a high bar," David points out.

"And the reason for that is in part because of how much you refuse to understand yourself," Ptonomy replies. "Dissociation is a survival tool, a powerful one. But it hurts you, too. It traps you in the very trauma you're trying to escape, long after the trauma is over. It blocks you from processing your emotions and memories and moving on. You need to learn new skills that will allow you to do that. You need to learn to stay present and engaged with the good parts of your life."

"What good parts?" David asks.

"Your family. Your friends. The work you can do to help others. And small things, too, like going out to the garden, being in nature. Things that trigger good memories, like your lamp. I know you want to be part of the world, David. And you are, even in here. You don't need to be physically outside to be part of the world."

David wraps his arms around himself. Ptonomy wasn't kidding about knowing him. David could read minds his whole life and he doesn't know anyone as well as that.

"That's because of Farouk, whether he made you forget or prevented you from learning," Ptonomy says. "Between his influence and your misdiagnosis, you've been made to question yourself at every step. You've been taught not to trust your own thoughts, your own instincts. Even once you could hear people's thoughts and know them for what they were, you didn't trust them either. You were afraid to."

David's starting to wonder if Ptonomy is secretly another one of his alters.

"I'll take that as a compliment," Ptonomy says, warmly. "You're what's been keeping me busy, David. Understanding you, going back over your thoughts and the things you've said, reviewing the footage Division 3 has of you. Reviewing your case notes from Clockworks and all your old therapists and doctors. A lot of those notes are wrong because they were made under the assumption that you were schizophrenic. But I can read between the lines, knowing what I know. I can see what they couldn't. I can see you, and because of that I can see what will help you get better."

David looks away from the Vermillion, looks back down at Syd's book. Under the heading for dissociative amnesia, she highlighted:

Dissociative amnesia does not refer to permanent memory loss, but rather to the disconnection of memories from conscious inspection. Thus, the memory is still there somewhere, but cannot be reached.

She underlined "the memory is still there" with strong penstrokes.

He should be relieved. The memories are still there, at least some of them. But--

"But?" Ptonomy prompts. "Finish the thought. You can do it."

David grips at his arms. His heart beats faster, even with Divad keeping him steady. "I'm afraid," he says, tightly. "I don't want to remember."

He doesn't want to. He already hurts so much, he doesn't want to remember all the things that made him hurt when it's only going to make everything so much worse.

"That's how you feel all the time, isn't it?" Ptonomy asks, gently. "It's automatic. I think that's what happened when we found you in the club, and you woke up and couldn't remember."

David looks up, startled.

"Back then I thought you were lying, but you were telling the truth," Ptonomy says.

David nods. "I couldn't-- There were flashes, but--"

"I saw," Ptonomy says. "But you remembered later?"

"Some of it," David says. "The amplification chamber. I remembered-- Dancing. Fighting, or-- Some kind of--" He closes his eyes and tries to make sense of it, for the hundredth time. "I remembered being taken. The orb, Future Syd. She told me to help Farouk. And then I was on a rooftop, and-- And I reached out for him and I found him. I went to the club. Oliver was there, Farouk, Lenny, I--" He swallows. "I remember her-- him. She--"

A flash of Lenny embracing him while he held utterly still, unable to move. Her mouth over his.

"I didn't want it," David says, urgently. "I didn't-- He--" He can feel his panic, dulled and held at bay. He doesn't want to remember. He doesn't want any of it.

"Stay with the memory," Ptonomy says. "What did Lenny do?"

"It wasn't her," David insists.

"Farouk was still using her face," Ptonomy says. "That's why he killed her in Clockworks. He needed Lenny to manipulate you. Because you trust her more than you trust yourself."

David opens his eyes and looks at the Vermillion.

"That's what he does, right?" Ptonomy asks. "He takes the people you trust and uses them against you. That's what he did to Syd. That's what he did to us, after the desert. He made us turn on you so we would finish what Syd started."

David can't even nod. But it's true.

"That's what he did to Amy," Ptonomy continues. "He didn't make her put you in Clockworks, but he made you so sick she had to put you somewhere. He used her image to hurt you in the hospital fantasy, and then again after her death."

He pauses to let David confirm that, but he can't. He doesn't need to and he can't.

"I understand why you wouldn't want to remember those things," Ptonomy soothes. "I don't think anyone would want to remember that kind of pain. But forgetting hurts you, too. Because the memories aren't gone. They're still there inside you and so are all the feelings you don't want to face. And until you face them, until you work through them, they're going to keep hurting you. Farouk is going to keep hurting you for the rest of your life unless you make the pain stop. The only way you can do that is if you let yourself remember. Maybe not the worst things, but the things happening to you now. You're here now and all of this is happening and we need you to accept that."

He pauses again, but David still can't reply.

"I know you're scared," Ptonomy says. "But remembering is what lets us learn from our mistakes. It's what helps us get better. And I know you want to get better. You don't want to lose the good things. You want to stay with us. So stay with us."

David wants to. He doesn't want to lose the good things.

"Good," Ptonomy soothes. "That's all you have to do right now. Just stay with us and try not to pull away. When you're hurting, talk to us. Don't go away. Don't try to disappear."

David doesn't want to go away. He doesn't.

"So what will help you stay?" Ptonomy asks. "What's a good thing that will help you?"

David knows the answer right away. "Kerry," he says, throat painfully tight. He needs Kerry.

Kerry comes right over. She stands in front of him, and then she leans down and hugs him. He holds her back and buries his face against her shoulder, and her hair brushes his cheek. He hugs her so tight he pulls her down onto his lap, but she just keeps hugging him. She’s really good at hugging. It must be all the practice she has with Cary.

Holding her, being held. Syd was right, it helps. It helps so much. Being touched, feeling the warmth and life of another person against him, body to body. It pulls him back to himself, grounds him. His heartbeat slows. He’s okay. He’s okay.

He eases his hold on Kerry but doesn’t let her go. He still needs her. He feels selfish, needing her, but— But he needs her anyway.

“It’s not selfish,” Ptonomy says. “It’s human. It’s the same thing everyone needs. Everyone.”

David used to go to Amy when he was upset. She would hug him and make everything better, at least for a while. He can’t hug her anymore. He could never touch Syd, even though— And Lenny—

He’s not ready to think about Lenny.

But Kerry’s here. She’s here and she’s alive and she can hold his hand and hug him.

When he finally lets her go, he wipes his eyes. “Thank you,” he says, though it feels inadequate.

“You don’t have to thank me for a hug,” Kerry says. “I need them, too. They’re— They’re nutritious.”

David laughs at that, just a little. “I guess they are.”

He feels so much better. He can’t believe how much better he feels. He notices that Syd’s book fell to the floor and picks it up.

“What’s in there is nutritious, too,” Ptonomy says, warmly. “Why don’t you take the morning and read some of it? Sit with us. I’m sure you’ll have questions.”

“You can write them down,” Kerry suggests. “You need a new notebook, right? You filled up the first one.”

Cary brings over a fresh notebook and a new pen. “You know,” he says, in a mock whisper. “Kerry’s not the only one who likes hugs.”

David hesitates, but he remembers Cary hugging him in the cell. David stands up, leaves the book on the chair, and takes a cautious step towards him.

Cary hugs him, and he still gives the best hugs. Kerry clearly learned from the master.

“I’m sorry I’ve been keeping my distance,” Cary says. “I didn’t want to get in the way. But you’re my friend, too, just as much as Kerry’s. We’re both here for you.”

Cary holds out the notebook and pen, and David takes it.

“You know,” Cary says, “I’ve been thinking what this lab needs is something more comfortable than chairs. And Clark did say he’ll give us anything we need to help you get better. Let’s give him a call.”

§

When Syd wakes up, she sits up and pulls off her sleep mask. Then she wonders if she’s still asleep. She pulls out her earplugs and stands up.

She must have been out cold, because while she was napping the lab was rearranged again, and now there’s a big, comfortable sofa against the wall by the window. There’s a coffee table, two overstuffed bean bag chairs, two loveseats, and the furniture is arranged around the coffee table. Cary and Oliver are in one loveseat, and Kerry, David, and the Vermillion are on the sofa. Everyone is reading. David is reading her book, and he’s making notes in a notebook. Kerry and David are sitting so close that their arms touch.

“What did I miss?” Syd asks, astonished.

David looks up. His eyes fill with pain when he sees her, like they’ve done for days, but he doesn’t look away. “Um, you know me and my rough mornings,” he says, and tries to smile. It doesn’t quite work, but it’s better than him breaking into tears. “Ptonomy got me to start reading your book.”

“I guess I should nap more often,” Syd says. She takes a few steps closer. “Can I join you?”

David visibly struggles. But he nods.

She goes to sit down in the empty loveseat, but Ptonomy stops her. “That's already taken,” he explains.

Oh. Divad and Dvd must be there. She doesn’t want to accidentally sit on one of them again.

“I can make room?” Ptonomy offers, sliding over.

“That’s okay.” Syd sits in one of the beanbag chairs. She sinks down into it. It’s pretty comfortable.

“Actually,” she says, pushing herself back to her feet. “I should freshen up first.” She feels a bit grungy after her nap. She looks at the clock. It’s almost lunchtime. She turns to Cary. “I could pick up lunch. They’ve got our order, right?”

“They do,” Cary says. “Do you need help?”

“I’ve got it. I’ll just be—“ Syd gestures at the bathroom and walks over to it. She closes the bathroom door and leans back against it.

She wasn’t—

She wasn’t ready for that. For David— She wasn’t ready.

She’s relieved. She’s happy. She is. But— She missed it. Whatever just happened, whatever small miracle made him feel so much better. They didn’t wake her up. Not that they should have woken her up. She barely got any sleep last night after Lenny showed up. She was so tired at breakfast.

But—

God, it’s stupid. It’s so stupid. There's no reason for her to feel excluded. David's therapy is everyone's priority, hers included, and if the others found a way to move him forward, that's what's important.

But she wanted--

She wants to be the one to help him. She needs to make up for hurting him, for maybe hurting him again if she can't stop herself from doing it. She spent days with that book, making it for him, but he wouldn't take it from her. He took it from Ptonomy.

It doesn't matter. The important thing is that he took it at all. He's reading it. He's even taking notes, instead of just staring at it like it's made of poison or might physically attack him. And he's--

He's sitting with Kerry, so close they're touching. Arm to arm. David won't let Syd touch him without him breaking down, but Kerry can touch him.

David didn't even talk to Ptonomy or Kerry before all of this. He talked to Syd. If something was wrong, if he talked to anyone at all he talked to her. He turned to her for everything.

That was what she didn't want, wasn't it? That was why she kept trying to make him stand on his own, to be strong. That was why she trapped him in her head for hours and hours, teaching him what ended up being the wrong lessons.

But it's still--

Maybe she did want it. Maybe she wanted both things. She wanted David to be strong, but she wanted David to need her, the way he needed her in Clockworks, the way he needed her in Summerland. She wants to be the strong one, the one he turns to, the one who helps him get better.

And now he's getting better, and she's--

She's the one who needs help. She's the one who's afraid of what's coming for her. And she doesn't have him. She doesn't have anyone, not like-- Not like Cary and Kerry have each other. Not like David and Divad and Dvd have each other. She's just the Untouchable Syd Barrett, alone the way she's always been. The way she always will be, according to the future she saw in Farouk's labyrinth. She was still wearing David's locket in that future, decades from now, long after she lost him. She'll always be alone, because the only love she ever had was David, and she's going to help destroy him. She already has.

She can’t let that future happen. She can’t let Farouk win. She can’t let him use her again. She can’t let him take David away from himself, even if she couldn’t stop him from taking David away from her.

She can still stop herself from taking David. Not in the past, but in the future. She can still protect him, still save him. She just has to save herself.

Chapter 31: Day 7: Maybe suicide is just the ultimate form of dissociation. (David)

Chapter Text

David can only read about a half a page of Syd's book at a time.

Once all the furniture was delivered and everyone settled down to read together, David braced himself and opened up the book. He didn't go back to the chapter on dissociation. He wasn't ready for that. He thought it would be easier to start with the diagnoses he already knew about. His anxiety and depression, his suicidal impulse, his PTSD.

They're not easier.

He wants to blame the book, for laying everything out in such stark, undeniable language. But it's not the book that made him sick. It's not the book that--

It's not the book.

There's a lot of overlap between all of his diagnoses. His diseases. Anxiety is a symptom of post-traumatic stress. Suicide is a risk factor for depression. Symptoms of everything include insomnia and poor self-worth, feelings of hopelessness, emotional instability, inability to function, disrupted relationships. As he reads, a minute at a time, and then five, ten, fifteen minutes holding Kerry's hand, it all blurs together into one tangled mess.

Even the treatments are the same. Psychotherapy, cognitive-behavioral therapy, drugs. Some of the same drugs he was forced to take when they thought he was schizophrenic. Not that they ever helped him, but he did have a parasite in his head actively stopping anything from helping him, so it's not the drugs' fault either.

But he's really glad that-- That he doesn't need the drugs. He's glad he has Divad and that Divad has mutant emotional regulation. That Divad helps him sleep and keeps away the nightmares. He hasn't had a nightmare in days despite having every reason to wake up screaming. He's had nightmares ever since he was a kid, even though he usually couldn't remember anything about them except that they were terrifying. Before Clockworks, after he was expelled from college, he tried to stay high all the time, to get as far out of his own head as he could, trying to make the nightmares stop, trying to make everything stop.

Maybe getting high is just another form of dissociation. Or suicide. Maybe suicide is just the ultimate form of dissociation. Maybe dissociation is a mild form of suicide.

Kerry suggested writing down any questions he has, but he doesn't have any questions. He's lived with all of this for so long, he knows the bones of it even if some details are new. But he does write down the pieces that match him. Each diagnosis is really a cluster of different diagnoses, grouped together for convenience and simplicity. Like how his schizophrenia wasn't schizophrenia at all, but a combination of symptoms that formed the illusion of it. Like painting white stripes on a black horse and calling it a zebra.

He reads the chapter on schizophrenia a half a page at a time. He doesn't write anything down from that. He can reject it completely and so he rejects it. It was never his and he doesn't want it.

And then Syd wakes up, and it's time for lunch, and David is glad for the excuse to take a break. Even if that means facing something else that he can only take a little at a time, holding Kerry's hand.

He should probably let Kerry have her hand back so she can eat.

Besides, he needs to be able to-- To be present. With Syd. With Amy. With-- Everyone. He needs to practice staying, even when he feels the urge to-- To dissociate. To go away. He doesn't want to go away. So he has to practice staying.

But when he looks at Syd, she’s the one who looks like she wants to be somewhere else.

It's probably him. Him being present. He hurts her, that's what he does: his actions, his existence. But-- Syd's been trying to get him to stay with her for days. She touched him. She highlighted and underlined and made margin notes for him. So as hard as it is to think about Syd, he thinks about Syd.

She's starting therapy. To work on her issues, whatever they are, so she doesn't become something she doesn't want to be.

It's like what he's doing, in a way. He doubts she's worried about being turned into some kind of crazy god who ends the world, but-- He's trying to not become something he doesn't want to be either. Trying to not become it again. Trying to figure out who he even is, if he's not what Farouk made him into. If there's anything to find.

Okay, he's not gonna be able to let go of Kerry's hand for a while. She'll have to eat with her left hand. He should eat, too. He picks up half his sandwich and takes a bite.

Syd. He needs to concentrate on Syd. She's starting therapy. It's always-- It's always stressful, starting therapy, no matter how many times he's done it, even though he doesn't so much start therapy as continue it forever while his therapists hand off his patient notes like a baton.

Syd's had therapy before. Private and group sessions in Clockworks. That's how they met, she was talking about-- About living on a cartoon island with a single palm tree. That was her happy place. And she said-- She said the things that made them crazy were what made them who they were. So he asked if she would be his girlfriend.

She said yes, even though he was-- Completely certified, institutionalized, heavily medicated, schizophrenic and a dozen other things. She didn't know he had powers. She barely knew anything about him, but she probably knew he was never going to be released from Clockworks. She still said yes.

He still doesn't know why she did. He didn't know then, either, but he was so surprised and delighted that he didn't want to question it. He didn't want to risk popping whatever miraculous bubble had descended and surrounded him. He knew it would pop, it couldn't last, nothing good ever lasted, but-- He just wanted to be happy, to forget everything else and be happy.

Maybe falling in love is a form of dissociation. Maybe falling in love is a form of suicide. He wanted to let who he'd been die and become someone else with her. And for a while it worked. For a year, he was happy, he was someone else, he was-- He was the David he thought she would love. And she loved him, her David.

The bubble popped. Her David-- He died, when she shot him, when he-- And now he doesn't know who he is, much less why she's still here, still-- Helping him. Touching him. Being kind to him, like he's worth being kind to.

He wasn't worth being kind to before. He couldn't give her anything. He couldn't even hold her hand, but she didn't want that from him anyway. She didn't really ask anything from him except to be with her. To make her smile, even though it was only because of her smile that he was able to smile for her at all.

He was the single palm tree on her island, providing shade and the occasional coconut. Something to lean on, if only metaphorically.

Maybe that's why she's starting therapy now. Because she's on an island without a single palm tree. That sounds very-- Lonely.

She looks lonely.

He should say something to her. He should-- Try to make her less lonely. He's not her palm tree anymore, he's not her David. He's not anything. But she still keeps trying to make him stay. And he's trying to stay. He's trying.

"Um," he starts, looking at her. Making himself look at her. "How's your sandwich?"

Stupid. She's eating the same thing he is, that they're all eating. That's the best he can do? He's so--

She stares at him, surprised, though she doesn't show it much. Syd's never been showy.

"Good," she says, still staring at him. It's starting to make him self-conscious.

"Mine's, um, good, too," David says, and god, he's just crashing and burning here. "Not as good as cherry pie, but--"

He shouldn't have said that. Now she looks even more upset. He can't do anything right, why did he think he should talk to her?

"I'm sorry," he says, because he's been awful and apologizing awfully for days, so he's just apologizing automatically now so he doesn't become a villain. Not that apologizing is going to save him from becoming a villain. If only it was that easy. His life is never that easy.

"Are you apologizing for talking to me?" Syd asks, and when he looks up she's-- Still surprised, but-- Amused? Disbelieving? Both?

It feels like a trick question. "Yes?" he tries, even though that means he just talked to her some more, so he should probably apologize again. "Sorry."

He can't actually apologize for talking without talking more. This isn't going to end well. He takes another bite of his sandwich to keep his mouth from making things worse.

“You can talk to me,” Syd says, somewhere between exasperated and concerned. “It’s— I want you to.”

David swallows his food. She does? Of course she does. She’s been trying to talk to him, he’s the one that keeps running away. Dissociating. Now that he knows that’s what he’s been doing, it feels like that’s all he’s been doing. He should probably finish reading that chapter.

He wants to run away now. He keeps holding Kerry’s hand instead. Kerry’s really going to regret it when she realizes David has permanently attached himself to her arm.

He doesn’t know what to say. His mind is devoid of safe topics. His mind is a void.

“You don’t have to,” Syd says, softer. “If it upsets you that much.”

She’s hurt. She’s trying to hide it, but he knows when she’s hurting.

“No, I— I want to,” David says, even though he hurts, too. Everything hurts, being alive hurts, but he wants it anyway. He’s not going to let his stupid pain make him hurt Syd again. “I’m sorry I’ve been— Running away and— I’m sorry.” He has to stop apologizing or he’ll be trapped in some kind of apology loop forever. "Do you-- If you want to talk about-- Your therapy? You don't-- I mean, if you don't want to--"

Syd talked to him about a lot of things in Clockworks, but she never talked about her therapy sessions with Kissinger. He would tell her about his, but-- When she talked, when they talked together, they would complain to each other about how useless Kissinger was, or about the cafeteria food or how they only showed the same old movies over and over. And Lenny would--

It's terrible to think that he was happy there. When Syd tried to save him from Walter's bullets and he pulled her into the white room and the monster came for them, he screamed and screamed and time slowed to a crawl and he pulled everyone into the safest place he could think of.

Clockworks wasn't safe. His fantasy of Clockworks might have been if it was only his fantasy, all of them trapped in the bubble of happiness he shared with Syd. But the monster was fully in control of David's mind and body, and Farouk twisted it like he twists everything: with the truth. He made Amy cruel because she was cruel. He took away David’s schizophrenia because he was never schizophrenic. He made David not want to leave, because as awful as Clockworks was, in that last year of it he didn't want to leave. He wanted to stay in that bubble with Syd forever. He would have been happy to live day by day, growing old with her in a mental hospital. That was the best future he could imagine for himself, for them together.

The monster couldn't change Syd. It couldn't make her want to grow old with him in a mental hospital with all the other freaks. Syd always wanted to leave. She might not have asked anything of him, but she still wanted more. She wanted him to get better so he could be out in the world with her, but— He doesn’t belong in the world.

Ptonomy told him not to hold himself separate from the world. This morning he told David that he’s part of the world even if he’s not outside. David's trying to accept that, but he doesn't-- He doesn't know if he should.

Syd never wanted his happy endings. She didn't want them in Clockworks and she didn't want them in the desert. She would never have wanted to run away with him to a farm. She's a city girl, raised on the thirty-first floor. He could never have made her happy in any future. What makes him think he could make her happy now? What even gives him the right to try?

Nothing. Nothing, like what he's worth.

"Okay," Syd says, casually. Like she said okay when he asked her to be his girlfriend.

"O-okay?" David asks, surprised.

"Yeah," Syd says. "I know all about your therapy. You should know about mine."

"Are you-- Are you sure?" David asks. Syd's so private about everything. He's the one who spills his feelings all over her. She doesn't spill hers. She just tells him what she needs him to hear, very calmly even when it's awful, or shows it to him in loops he can't escape.

"Yes," Syd says, confident now. "No secrets, right?"

David stares at her.

Syd stares back, challenging.

"No secrets," David says, because it's the only thing he can say. It was always the only thing he could say. He doesn't have any secrets left anymore, so at least now he can say it and mean it.

Except it's Syd who means it.

Did he-- Did he dissociate and miss something? Because he is definitely confused. But he looks to Dvd and Dvd shakes his head and shrugs.

David turns back to Syd. "So-- So what are you--"

"Future Syd," Syd says, very calmly. "Farouk turns me into her so I'll make you destroy the world. I don't want to do that to you or the world. So I'm going to kill Future Syd."

David leans forward, alarmed. "You-- You can't--"

"Not literally, David," Syd says, patiently.

"Oh. Right." David leans back, relieved. He runs his hand back through his hair, and realizes suddenly that he let go of Kerry's hand. He doesn't even remember letting go, but he did. And he's-- He's still here. He's staying. He's talking to Syd and he's staying.

"How's the book?" Syd asks, and takes a bite of her sandwich.

"Awful," David says, honestly. "But, um. Helpfully awful. I still haven't-- I haven't finished it yet. My chapters."

"What's left?"

"Dissociative disorders," David admits. "Saved the best for last."

Syd considers this. "Maybe we could sit together while you read it."

David swallows. He looks back at the sofa, at the window behind it. At the book waiting where he left it. He looks at Syd and her calm, expectant expression.

"Okay," he says, feeling-- Feeling-- Confused. Hopeful. Uncertain.

It's not-- This isn't a bubble. Whatever just happened, whatever-- It's not a fantasy he's escaping into. It's too painful and messy for that. Syd's going to sit with him while he reads about all the things that are wrong with him. About his identities and his amnesia and whatever else is waiting for him in that chapter. He won't be able to hide because she already knows what's in it. He won't have any secrets from her.

He has every reason to want to run away from that. But he wants to stay.

§

David and Syd sit down together on the sofa. Just the two of them, a safe distance apart but still close. It’s so much like before, like nothing has changed, except everything has changed.

David opens the book and finds the chapter on dissociative disorders.

He can do this. He's doing this.

He re-reads what he already read. Dissociation is the disconnection of things that should be connected. His consciousness, memory, identity, and perception. Stress, trauma -- he can't take them so he pulls away from them. He pulls away from his memories, from his emotions, from his sense of himself as David Haller. He forgets and dissociates and becomes someone else. He becomes two other people who can keep him safe, or try to.

He turns the page and looks at the section on dissociative identity disorder.

He reads the first part. Most of it is highlighted. There's several underlines.

Dissociative identity disorder reflects a failure to integrate various aspects of identity, memory, and consciousness into a single multidimensional self. Usually, a primary identity carries the individual's given name and is passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed. When in control, each personality state, or alter, may be experienced as if it has a distinct history, self-image and identity. The alters' characteristics—including name, reported age and gender, vocabulary, general knowledge, and predominant mood—contrast with those of the primary identity. They may be hostile, controlling, or self-destructive. Certain circumstances or stressors can cause a particular alter to emerge. The various identities may deny knowledge of one another, be critical of one another or appear to be in open conflict.

Syd crossed out 'deny knowledge of one another.' She underlined 'a primary identity carries the individual's given name and is passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed.' She underlined 'hostile,' 'controlling,' and 'Certain circumstances or stressors can cause a particular alter to emerge.' She underlined 'critical of one another' and 'open conflict.'

Passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed.

He wants to cross that out. He wants to set the book on fire. But he keeps staring at those five words.

How can-- The people who wrote this book, how could they-- How could they know him? How could they know his life? How could they sum up so much of him in five words when he's struggled for so long to even acknowledge those truths?

How dare they-- How dare they know him, when they don't know him.

Syd waits silently beside him, watching. She read this and she highlighted those words and then she went back and underlined them because she knows him, too. She knows what he is. If she knows what he is she should-- She should be physically sick. She should walk away. She should find someone else to help, if she wants to help so much. She should know he can't be saved.

Passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed.

He's depressed, obviously he's depressed. He knows that. He knows he's-- Passive, dependent. Even before Clockworks. He tried to be in the world and he failed in every way. He wasn't cut out for real life. That's why he ended up with an extension cord around his neck. Not just because of the voices and the hallucinations he couldn't stop, not just because of the nightmares and the fear, but because he took and took from everyone around him and gave nothing back. Because no matter how hard he tried, he was never going to get better. He was never going to be worth all the things he took from Amy and Philly and his parents and the world.

And of course he's guilty. He's hurt everyone, all he should ever be is guilty.

But none of that is why it's in the book. The people who wrote it couldn't have possibly known that. They couldn't know about any of the things he did. So why did they write it? Why is it here?

"Why--" he asks, voice tight with upset. "Why is this here?"

Syd looks at where he's pointing. She reads the sentence she's read before, read again, highlighted and underlined.

"Why shouldn't it be?" Syd asks.

He looks at her. "Because it doesn't have anything to do with-- With anything."

"Is it wrong?"

"No," David admits. "But that's not the point. It shouldn't be-- It doesn't have anything to do with-- With having other people in my head."

"They think it does," Syd says, reasonably. "The authors. They looked at the whole history of people with DID and that's what they saw. It's not a judgement. It's an observation."

David looks back down at the book. The alters' characteristics contrast with those of the primary identity. They may be hostile, controlling, or self-destructive.

Divad and Dvd. They're not just people in his head. They're other parts of him. They're--

They're other parts of him. He's the self-destructive one, but they're-- They're hostile and controlling and self-destructive, too. Both of them, in different ways. They try to protect him with violence and hostility and control, but they hurt him, too, because all the parts of him are traumatized and he hurts himself. He's hostile to himself. He tries to control himself.

And he's passive and dependent. And he's guilty.

All of that should be-- It should just be him, that feels that way. No one else should feel the way he feels.

But so many other people feel it, they had to put it in a reference book.

He's a unique case. No one else has been through what he's been through. But there are pieces that match, the same way there are pieces of his anxiety and depression and suicidal impulse and PTSD that match.

He's the primary identity with David Haller's name. He's passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed.

It's not enough. The people who wrote this book didn't know about mental parasites that can reshape memories from within like they were soft clay. David still has nothing to prove that he's anything more than a paper-thin copy of Past David.

But even if he's just a copy, the person he's a copy of must have felt the same things he does. Because that's what primary identities feel. So that's what Past David felt. Past David and Now David felt the same things.

It's another thread, like the lamp. It's not enough, but it's another thread just barely tugging them towards each other.

David reads on, not just the highlights. He reads all of it.

Particular identities may emerge in specific circumstances. Transitions from one identity to another are often triggered by psychosocial stress. In the possession-form cases of dissociative identity disorder, alternate identities are visibly obvious to people around the individual. In non-possession-form cases, most individuals do not overtly display their change in identity for long periods of time.

People with DID may describe feeling that they have suddenly become depersonalized observers of their own speech and actions. They might report hearing voices, and in some cases, these voices accompany multiple streams of thought that the individual has no control over. The individual might also experience sudden impulses or strong emotions that they don't feel control or a sense of ownership over. People may also report that their bodies suddenly feel different, or that they experience a sudden shift in attitudes or personal preferences before shifting back.

Individuals with DID may have post-traumatic symptoms (nightmares, flashbacks, and startle responses) or post-traumatic stress disorder. As this once rarely reported disorder has grown more common, the diagnosis has become controversial. Some believe that because DID patients are highly suggestible, their symptoms are at least partly iatrogenic—that is, prompted by their therapists' probing. Brain imaging studies, however, have corroborated identity transitions.

More than 70 percent of people with DID have attempted suicide, and self-injurious behavior is common among this population. Treatment is crucial to improving quality of life and preventing suicide attempts.

Syd highlighted 'possession-form cases' and 'most individuals do not overtly display their change in identity.' She highlighted 'depersonalized observers,' 'hearing voices,' and 'multiple streams of thought' and 'impulses or strong emotions that they don't feel control or a sense of ownership over.'

She highlighted and underlined 'highly suggestible' and 'corroborated identity transitions.'

She highlighted the entire paragraph about suicide and self-injurious behavior and circled it.

"I'm highly suggestible?" David asks. He thought it was just Farouk. He thought he was just—

"That's what the book says," Syd replies. "I think-- Dissociation is a kind of self-hypnosis. You're putting yourself into a state where you'll accept a version of reality that doesn't match what your senses are telling you. But that means it's easy for other people to make you accept things that you might not want. Dissociation makes your personal boundaries... permeable."

David thinks of Lenny-- Benny. Benny telling him to rob Doctor Poole's office. David didn't want to. He liked Doctor Poole. He didn't want to hurt him. But he did because Benny told him to, and he trusted Benny.

Benny told him to do a lot of things. So David did them. Future Syd told him to do things he didn't want to do, but he did them anyway. Because he trusted her and she said he had to. He accepted his life in Clockworks because Amy told him he had to. Syd told him that life was war and he had to hold on to his pain and his anger and his despair. So he did.

That's what he's been doing. Even after he thought he'd lost her forever, he still did what she told him to do. He's still doing what everyone has told him to do. Because he's been telling himself to do things for so long he just lets anyone tell him to do anything.

Farouk didn't even need to be inside his head to control him. He didn't need to be inside his head to tell him what to do, how to feel, what to see. Because dissociating meant David let all their ideas go right into him.

He's been doing it to himself. He thought he was helping himself but all he did was leave himself wide open to being hurt again and again.

"I need to stop," he realizes, looking to Syd. "I have to stop dissociating."

But Ptonomy said-- Ptonomy said his identities couldn't be put back together.

He looks for the end of the section, for the treatment guide.

Psychotherapy is generally considered the main component of treatment for dissociative identity disorder. In treating individuals with DID, therapists usually use individual, family, and/or group psychotherapy to help clients improve their relationships with others and to experience feelings they have not felt comfortable being in touch with or openly expressing in the past. It is carefully paced in order to prevent the person with DID from becoming overwhelmed by anxiety, risking a figurative repetition of their traumatic past being inflicted by those very strong emotions. Dialectical behavior therapy is a form of cognitive behavior therapy that emphasizes mindfulness and works on helping the DID sufferer soothe him- or herself by decreasing negative responses to stressors.

Mental health professionals also often guide clients in finding a way to have each aspect of them coexist and work together, as well as developing crisis-prevention techniques. The goal of achieving a more peaceful coexistence of the person's multiple personalities is quite different from the reintegration of all those aspects into just one identity state. While reintegration used to be the goal of psychotherapy, it has frequently been found to leave individuals with DID feeling as if the goal of the practitioner is to get rid of, "erase," or "kill," parts of them.

He can't put himself back into one piece. Just like his lamp. He was shattered and-- And he can't unshatter himself. But he can learn to coexist with Divad and Dvd. They can-- They can get help. They can stop dissociating in all the other ways they dissociate. They can stay with the people who care about them and work through their memories and emotions.

Divad and Dvd can't go away. But the three of them can get better together. Like Syd wants to. Like Amy and Kerry want to. They can get better together.

The book goes on about treatment methods, but David skims them only briefly before closing the book and setting it aside. He has a lot to think about, a lot to understand and accept. He trusts his friends to help him get better. Maybe he shouldn't trust them so much, maybe he needs to learn to trust himself more than everyone else, but--

That's what he is. Right now, that's what he is. He needs help and they're helping him, and he wants to get better. He's ready to get better.

"Thank you," he tells Syd, genuinely. "For the book, for--" For everything. For everything. It's too huge to say and he wishes she could hear his thoughts but he hopes she understands him anyway. He hopes she can see it in his face, in his eyes, how grateful he is to her for not giving up on him even though all he's ever done is give up on himself.

Syd smiles for him, sweet and tight-lipped. "I'm glad I could help you. I'm glad you-- You chose to stay."

"I didn't," David says, because he would have killed himself if he could. If anyone let him. He tried to. He might try again. The feeling is still there, even if it's blunted and further away.

"You did," Syd says. "I talked to Amy and Lenny and Divad and Dvd and that's what they all said. They couldn't save you, but you saved yourself. David saved himself. I know you don't believe that's who you are. But you are and you did."

David wants to believe that. He wants to.

"I guess we'll find out," he says. He's sure Ptonomy will want him to take a break and clear his head before the memory work, but he's ready. Whatever's waiting for him in his past, he's ready to face it with Divad and Dvd and Amy and Ptonomy. With his family, with his friends, with Syd. He's ready.

Chapter 32: Day 7: We killed it and it didn’t come back. (David)

Chapter Text

It’s one thing to talk to Syd, to let her sit with him while he reads about himself in her book. David owed her that much for everything she’s done to try to save him. The two of them have— He’s not sure what they are now, except that they’re not what they were, but— He thinks they’ve made a start, even if he doesn’t know what it is that they’re starting.

But talking to Amy is—

He needs to talk to Amy. For the memory work. He needs to listen to what she has to say so she can help him piece together the truth about his life, or Past David’s life. He can’t do that if every cell in his body is screaming for him to pull away from his memories and emotions as fast as possible.

He thought he was ready to stay. He’s not ready.

David grips Kerry’s hand tightly. At least this time he’s holding her other hand. If he never lets go again, she’ll still be able to hold a fork and write.

“You’ve already done a lot today,” Divad soothes. “If you need more time, we can do the memory work tomorrow.”

“No,” David insists, even though that’s what he said yesterday and look how that turned out. “I need to know.”

“You need to go slow,” Divad says. He glances at the Vermillion sitting in the loveseat and rubs at his neck. “Okay, how about this. If you can talk to Amy without— Without dissociating, we can do the memory work today. Ptonomy?”

“That’s reasonable,” Ptonomy agrees. “Remember what the book said. If you get overwhelmed, you’re just hurting yourself with the very trauma we’re trying to work past.”

They’re right. David knows they’re right. And he should be able to do this. It’s Amy. She’s his sister. She loves him. She’s always—

She’s always loved Past David. She put Now David in Clockworks and left him there. Maybe she knew the truth like Philly did. Maybe on some level, she knew he wasn’t her brother at all, and that made it easier for her to throw him away.

“I think it’s only fair to tell that to Amy if you also let her answer you,” Ptonomy says. “She’s ready if you are.”

David thought it, he didn’t say it. He didn’t choose to let everyone hear his thoughts.

“Amy didn’t choose to be uploaded,” Ptonomy replies. “She didn’t choose to be killed and trapped in her own mind. She’s hurting just as much as you and you need to remember that. She’s trying to help you just like Syd. Just like all of us.”

Well, now David feels terrible in a completely different way. At least guilt is something he’s never needed to pull away from. He can wallow in guilt all day without needing to hold anyone’s hand.

“We’ll have to talk about that,” Ptonomy says, because of course they will.

“Can I talk to Amy now?” David asks, strained. At least he only has to deal with one of them at a time.

“I’m here,” Amy says. “David, I don’t— You’ve always been my little brother. I didn’t care that you were adopted. I don't care that there’s three of you, I don’t care if there’s been two different Davids. You’re my Davey. You always will be, okay?”

When he doesn’t even think a reply, she sighs.

“I know I can never make up for what I did to you,” Amy continues. “I know you can’t forgive yourself. But I hope you can forgive me. Not for my sake, but for yours. I know how much you’re hurting, I can hear it all the time and— You’re punishing yourself. You can’t do that if you want to get better.”

He’s punishing himself?

Ptonomy told David to stop punishing himself, and he thought he had. But apparently it wasn’t as easy as that after all. But then he hasn’t forgiven himself either. Maybe he’s able to resist some of the ideas other people keep trying to put into his head.

“You were always stubborn,” Amy says, sad but fond. “Even if you don’t remember the truth, I do. You were always the most impossible, difficult little brother in the world. That only made me love you more.”

David’s grip on Kerry’s hand eases. “What was I like?” he asks. He thought he was normal, but he knew about his powers, he didn’t stay put even if they locked the doors. He was sensitive and cried too much. He must have been—

He must have been the most difficult, stubborn little brother in the world. But Amy loved him anyway. She loved him more. Even though he was adopted and strange and did impossible things all the time.

“Let me tell you?” Amy asks, and she sounds like she’s smiling.

§

David’s back in the white room, and he pulls Divad and Dvd in with him. The furniture is still gone and the astronomy posters are still on the walls. Dvd sees them and looks pleased.

“You should add something,” he tells Divad.

“Now really isn’t the time for decorating,” Divad says, but he looks contemplative.

Ptonomy’s voice floats in through the open sliding doors. “David, are you ready?”

“I’m ready,” David says. “Is Amy going to start again?”

“She’ll join in, but we’re focusing on your memories now. What you remember, real or not. Let’s pick up where we left off. You remember being a normal little boy.”

David closes his eyes and thinks back. He remembers Amy, his house, the forests and fields and the shore beyond. He remembers being loved, but he can’t remember his parents with any great detail. They’re gone, like Benny is gone, though not as completely.

What else does he remember about his earliest years?

A dog barks in the distance. He opens his eyes. He’s standing in the long grass, like he did in the memory walk, but this moment is earlier and he’s seeing it from his perspective as a child. A young Amy is there, maybe eight or nine years old, and she's holding a leash. On the end of the leash is King, his beagle.

King. The Shadow King. The first form Farouk took when he went into David, at least as far as David has been made to remember.

“Oh, we remember him,” Dvd says, angrily. He looks like he wants to march over to the dog and kick it into orbit. Divad puts a hand on his shoulder, holding him back.

“It’s just a memory,” Divad soothes.

“Nothing the monster did was ever just anything,” Dvd says, turning to David. “He tricked us. When you first made us, you still thought King was real. We didn’t know any better, so we thought he was real, too.”

“When we realized King was part of the monster,” Divad explains, “you wouldn’t believe us. You loved King too much to believe us.” Hurt flashes across his face. “That’s how it started, him pulling us apart. That’s the first time he got between us.”

David remembers an idyllic childhood. He remembers King as his constant companion for years, always with him wherever he went, by his side day and night. He remembers loving King with all his heart, and King loving him back.

But that’s not what happened. Or it is, but only parts of it, only half-truths, quarter-truths.

“We always knew King wasn’t real,” says child Amy. “But he made you happy. We decided to play along so you could have your imaginary friend. But—“

“But what?” David asks.

“King started to scare you,” says child Amy. She’s holding King’s leash short so the dog can’t reach David. “Not all the time, not at first.”

“He only scared us when David was asleep or went away,” Divad says. “He wanted us to know what he was, but not David.”

Right from the start, Farouk used David’s love and trust against him, used them to manipulate him and isolate him. From the outside, David would have alternated between adoring his imaginary dog and being terrified of him, making him look even more unstable. And from the inside—

“That shit beetle hated us,” Dvd declares. “We were in his way and he couldn’t get rid of us. He wanted you all for himself.”

“Amy, you said ‘not at first,’” David says. “What happened to King? I don’t remember him dying, or—“ In the false memories, King was his constant companion until one day he wasn’t anymore. If King was a real dog, he could have run away or died, but Farouk didn’t bother with that. He didn’t make David remember bringing King to the vet for shots or care. He didn’t even make David remember when he first got King as a puppy. King was just there, ideal and eternal, until he wasn’t anymore.

“Farouk got bored with that game, so he started scaring you, too,” Divad says. “He terrified all of us all the time and no one else could see what he was doing. No one else could stop him. So we stopped him.”

“We used our powers together,” Dvd says, proudly. “We killed it.”

David shakes his head. “King was just an illusion. A mask.”

“We killed it and it didn’t come back,” Dvd insists.

Art by Peribawang ( Instagram | Twitter ) Click for full size

"One day, you stopped talking about King," child Amy says. "We asked you about him, but you didn't want to talk about him. You just said you never had a dog. And you didn't, so--"

David kneels down and looks at King. The dog -- the illusion of the illusion of a dog -- looks back at him placidly. "Was it another trick?"

"We didn't care," Dvd says. "King was gone and the monster couldn't hurt us with him anymore."

David stares at the dog. His memories of King are so strong. Farouk needed that love. He needed it before David made the alters and then he used it to divide them. And then when he couldn't do that anymore, he must have given up that mask so he could make other masks to terrify them with.

When Farouk ripped out David's memories, he put King back. All that unconditional love and trust a boy has for his beloved dog. He put it all back and made it part of the foundation of who he wanted David to be.

David knew there was a monster. Farouk broke him with fear when he was still so young, that's why David made his alters in the first place. So King wasn't the first mask Farouk used, not at all. But he was the first mask that Farouk used to make David love him.

David thinks about Farouk in his cell, telling him that David was his baby. Telling him that he tried to make David love him and failed. David felt sick then, hearing those words, and he feels sick now.

The sight of King makes his skin crawl. All that love and it was never anything but-- It was just another violation of his heart and his mind and-- David doesn't want it anymore. It was never his and he doesn't want it.

He doesn't even close his eyes. He just stares and then King is gone, leash and all.

He stands and walks a few steps away, his stomach turning. It's not just King. It's his whole childhood, all these false memories he's relived again and again. All the happiness and love he clung to when things were so dark and hopeless, they were just-- It was all just another trick, another manipulation, another way for Farouk to--

David's wide-eyed puppy act. That's what Divad called it. Farouk wanted him that way, he wanted David to love and trust unconditionally the way he loved and trusted King. It wasn't just the dissociation and how it makes him suggestible. And even all of that combined wasn't enough. Farouk couldn't make David love him, like David couldn't make Syd love him after the desert, like the monster couldn't make Syd want to stay in Clockworks.

Syd said he saved himself and he still doesn't know if he did. But--

Even if he's just a copy of Past David. Farouk couldn't make Past David love him, and he couldn't make Now David love him either. And-- Farouk would have, if he could. He's been trying for so long, he must want it so much. He must need it.

Farouk is a monster. But David was a monster: in the desert, after it. That's what Farouk turned him into, someone cruel who took what he thought he deserved. David thought he deserved Syd's love. And Farouk--

Farouk needs David's love. He thinks he deserves it. And when he couldn’t get it—

When he couldn’t get it—

Oh god.

He feels—

He feels faint, he feels—

“David.” Divad is there, suddenly, holding his arms. “You’re going away.”

“David, stay with us,” Ptonomy says, urgent. “Dvd, get him out of there.”

“We’re out,” Dvd says, and then David is back in the lab, sitting on the sofa, and Kerry’s holding his hand and Divad’s trying to keep him calm but David can’t breathe, he can’t— He feels sick, his whole body feels hot and sick and—

Cary comes over and holds his arm, rubs his back. "Stay with us, David. Don’t go away."

He’s trying, but— He feels so— He feels—

And then Syd is in front of him, and she-- She takes his other hand. She puts his hand between her gloved hands and holds it. "David, stay with us. Stay with me.”

He looks at Syd. She holds him with her hands and with her eyes.

He has to— He has to stay. He doesn’t want to go away. He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to.

Kerry’s holding his hand and Cary’s touching his back and his arm and Syd is holding his hand and looking at him and he’s—

He’s not going away. It’s passing: the sickness, the heat, the overwhelming, annihilating fear. It’s passing. It’s going away and he’s staying. He’s staying.

He can’t think about— He can’t think about it.

“You don’t have to,” Ptonomy soothes. “Not right now. Just stay with us. Be here now. That’s all you have to do.”

§

When David was missing for that long year, all Syd wanted was to find him so she could hold his hand. She didn't know if that was why he was gone so long but she knew how much he needed it. She knew he'd never ask it of her, he'd never take it, so he couldn't have it unless she gave it to him.

Whatever else David took from her, in his broken madness, he didn't take that. So she's still able to give it to him: her hand, her touch. She's finally holding his hand so he'll stay.

This wasn't what she had in mind.

David's staying, but that's about all he can manage to do. They got him to lie down on the sofa with his head on Kerry's lap, but he won't let go of Syd's hand, so she's sitting on the coffee table.

"No, not yet," Ptonomy says, then turns to them. "Divad asked if he should make David sleep. I don't think that's a good idea right now." He turns back to the empty space where Divad must be. "David's working hard to stay present. He'll sleep when he's ready and you can help him then."

Ptonomy listens some more, then nods. "We'll take it a little at a time."

It's still so strange to Syd that David can somehow be three separate people at once, that one of those people can be nearly catatonic while the other two hover around him trying to figure out how to help him, but that's how David works. Even Farouk couldn't change that, and he changed so much.

"I guess we'll have to wait until tomorrow for my first session," she says to Ptonomy. Not that she doesn't want to get started, but David's attached himself to her hand pretty firmly.

"No, we'll do it tonight after dinner," Ptonomy says. "We'll see if we can get David to eat, and by then he should be ready to sleep. I was hoping he'd be up to helping us, but it's probably better to use Divad and Dvd."

"What do we need them for?"

"You never met Future Syd," Ptonomy says. "You only saw her image. Only David and Farouk were able to project their minds into the future to talk to her. Fortunately for us, Divad and Dvd experience everything David experiences. So they can tell us everything David knows, and we don't have to put him through that. At least not for now."

"So I have to do a group session with two people I can't hear?" Syd asks. That feels-- It feels unfair, to have testimony given against her future self when she can't defend against it.

That's probably how David felt, trapped in a cage while the Vermillion read out the evidence against him. Farouk really did set them up to hurt him as deeply as possible. He didn't even have to brainwash her to make her hurt David that time, he just sat back and watched the fireworks.

"I'll help," Oliver volunteers.

Syd looks over, startled. Oliver's been mostly quiet, letting the telepathic relay flow through him, occasionally saying something or quoting poetry. They've been keeping him busy all day and so he hasn't been able to leave his body to search the astral plane for Melanie. Not that he's had any luck so far, but if there's any chance Oliver can find her--

"You don't have to," Syd says. "David's in no shape for anything else today, you should go look for Melanie."

Oliver seems to consider this. "I used to do this, I think. Help people. A long time ago."

"You did," Cary says. "You were-- You helped a lot of people get better."

"And then I dreamed," Oliver says, closing his eyes. "Real as a dream. What shall I do with this great opportunity to fly? When I'm in awakeness what do I desire? I desire to fulfill my emotional belly. My whole body, my heart in my fingertips thrill with some old fulfillments." He opens his eyes, looks at them, his eyes more clear than they've been since he came back to them for the second time. He looks to Cary. "You said it was my dream to help people. Melanie carried it without me. She tried to help David, but-- He’s her last, unfinished dream. The least I can do is help finish it for her."

Syd smiles for him. "I think she would have liked that."

Oliver nods. "For the world is a mountain of shit: if it's going to be moved at all, it's got to be taken by handfuls."

"A little at a time," Ptonomy agrees. "We'll get that mountain moved."

Chapter 33: Day 7: She drew a heart for us. What a liar. (Syd)

Chapter Text

David’s tucked into bed and Cary’s taking his turn holding his hand. Even with Divad helping him sleep, David holds Cary’s hand tightly. He needs their help to stay connected to the world so he’ll come back to it when he wakes.

But Syd has to focus on her place in the world right now. Or what it will be in the future.

"This won’t hurt at all," Oliver says, reaching up to touch her forehead. "I’m just going to do a thing."

Syd pulls back from his hand. "A thing?"

Oliver pauses. "I’m going to put a telepathic antenna into your mind so I can relay David’s thoughts to you."

"And what about my thoughts?"

"I’ve always been able to hear your thoughts. I can hear everyone’s thoughts. I can relay yours to Ptonomy if you’d like?"

Syd hesitates. She probably should, given how powerful telepathy is as a therapeutic tool. But no. "No," she says, firmly.

"All right," Oliver says. "Ready?"

Syd braces herself. "Ready."

Oliver's fingers touch her forehead, and— And nothing. She doesn't even feel it, what he does to her. She can't feel him reach into her mind and change it.

She wasn't awake when David did it, but she probably wouldn't have felt it if she had been. Farouk was right about one thing, mind readers are too powerful to trust.

"We shouldn't all be tarred with the monster's brush," Oliver says. He says it with his usual equanimity, but there's a hint of force behind it. "Otherwise why should any mutant be allowed to live?"

"Sorry," Syd says, chastened. She spent a year helping Melanie convince Division 3 not to classify all mutants as threats just because they had powers. She and Melanie had to teach them that lesson again and again until it sank in. Maybe she needs a little teaching herself.

Still. She understands why David is always complaining about having his thoughts overheard. Knowing her mind is being read, her thoughts listened to, it's incredibly disconcerting. She didn't think about it much with David because he rarely mentioned what he heard. He knew it made her uncomfortable so he didn't say anything. She told him her boundaries and he tried hard to respect them.

That's who he is, no matter what Farouk used her to make him do. She knows that's who he is, even if he doesn't.

"Sending you the relay now," Oliver says, as he settles back in the loveseat.

"-esting, one two three," drawls a David-like voice from the empty space her right. It's Divad.

"This is gonna be fun," says a David-like voice from her left. Dvd.

"We're here to help Syd so she can help David," chides Divad. "Don't get carried away."

"We're here to finally tell everyone what a piece of shit Future Syd is," Dvd insists. "If Syd doesn't like it, she can—" He stops. She wonders if Divad is glaring at him. She's been getting pieces of their dynamic and she thinks that's what's happening.

'Dvd better not mess this up,' says Divad, but he's not saying it from her right. It sounds like he's saying it inside her head.

'Blonde bitch,' grumbles Dvd, and that's inside her head, too.

"The relay includes their thoughts as well as the thoughts David believes he is vocalizing as them," Oliver explains. "You get used to it. Telepaths learn to prioritize vocalized information and tune out the unsaid."

"We can't afford to tune out David's thoughts or the thoughts of his alters," Ptonomy adds. "So it's gonna be noisy."

"You're listening to our thoughts, too?" Dvd asks, alarmed. 'I knew they couldn't be trusted. Bunch of spies.'

'I am so not comfortable with this,' Divad thinks. "It's fine. They're helping David get better. That's all that matters."

"Yeah, he's looking real better," Dvd grumbles. 'I should be holding David's hand, not these people. We're David’s brothers but he doesn't even want to remember us. I hate this, I hate all of it.'

"Let's focus on the task at hand," Ptonomy says. "We're helping Syd understand her future self so that we can help her avoid that fate. Just like we're helping David avoid the future he shares with her. No one wants the world to end, right?"

"Right," Divad agrees.

"Right," Dvd sighs. 'Jerk. Kiss our ass.'

Syd doesn't expect Dvd to apologize for his thoughts the way David does. Clearly Ptonomy doesn't either. Divad isn't thinking about anything, but he is the part of David with mutant emotional regulation.

"Let's start at the beginning," Ptonomy says. "David was in Summerland and Cary's orb appeared. It took him. What happened next?"

"David freaked out," Dvd says. "We couldn't break free."

"We wanted to get back to Syd," Divad says, pointedly. "But then all of a sudden, Syd was in the orb with us. She was in some kind of black space, a mental projection."

"She couldn't talk," Dvd says. "She had this weird light wand thing, she wrote with it."

"She told us she was from the future and that time was running out," Divad says. "She wrote that Farouk was trying to find his body and that we had to help him. She told us not to tell anyone, and then she was gone."

"Did you notice anything else about her?" Ptonomy asks. "Any physical differences?"

"She was older," Divad says. "But not old. She was missing her left arm. She was wearing a locket."

"That's what I saw in Farouk's visions," Syd agrees. She can't help but touch her left arm, reassuring herself that it's still there. Then she thinks about the necklace. She pulls it off and looks at it. "David said Cary made this while he was in the amplification tank." She opens it and the compass needle points right to David. She holds it out for everyone to see.

"Cary didn't make it," Dvd says. "We made it. But we knew you didn't trust us. We heard you thinking it, and then you told us it was our fault we got taken even though it wasn't."

"David was very upset," Divad says. "We lost a year, and when we came back no one trusted us. He remembered a lot of bad things at once in the amplification tank."

"And then you said it was our fault," Dvd says, again, angrily.

"He was afraid of losing you," Divad says. "He was scared of being taken again. He was scared that if it happened and you thought it was his fault, you wouldn't want to find us."

Dvd snorts. 'We don’t need to be found. I'm the one who saves us, not you.'

Syd closes the compass. It really is the same one she saw in the vision, but David made it after he remembered seeing her future self wearing it. "Did he know this is what she was wearing? My future self?"

"We saw the necklace," Divad says. "We didn't know it was a compass. David didn't even think about the details when we made it, he just needed the necklace to exist and our mind filled in the blanks. I think— He thought if he gave it to you now, that meant you wouldn't stop loving us, because you were still wearing it in the future."

"Future Syd said she loved us," Dvd says, bitterly. "She drew a heart for us. What a liar."

"Why didn't he just tell me?" Syd asks them. It's the same question she's been asking herself for weeks.

"We did tell you," Divad defends. "We told you on the roof."

"Not all of it," Syd insists. "David always told me everything, but then he came back and he was different."

"We weren't different, everyone else was different," Dvd says.

"He lied to me," Syd insists. "He looked me in the eye and lied to me."

"You told us it was our fault we got taken!" Dvd says, loudly. "You didn't care about us. We were taken by you and when you let us go, everyone made it perfectly clear that the only thing they cared about was our powers. Help Farouk, David. Kill Farouk, David. How were we supposed to know what to do?"

'Bitch,' Dvd's thoughts snarl. 'You did this to us! I hate you!'

"Blame isn't going to help anyone," Ptonomy says, firmly. "David drowns himself in blame and you've all seen for yourselves how much that doesn't help. So don't make the same mistake."

Syd nods. No one says or thinks anything.

"Let's get back on track," Ptonomy continues. "Future Syd took David from Summerland. She told him that she was in danger and that he had to help Farouk in order to save her. She told him she still loved him but she put him back a year late. It's possible that was a mistake, but I don't think so. She did that on purpose."

"She wanted to disorient him," Syd suggests. "To isolate him from us." That's exactly what Farouk would do, but she did it.

"It gave Farouk a head start," Divad says. "He got to search for his body for a whole year without us getting in the way."

"But he still needed David's help to find it?" Syd asks.

"He didn't," Dvd insists. "Farouk never cared about that. It was just an excuse to keep us coming back."

Divad gives a thoughtful hum. "Farouk did try to convince us not to help Future Syd. He said if we did, it would be like helping her kill herself."

"Farouk was following the monk." Syd thinks back. "Just like us. The monk was the only one who knew how to find the monastery. David said Farouk needed his help for that because the monk was hiding in Division 3. But the monk only came to Division 3 to find the weapon we were supposed to have. When we didn't have it, he killed himself."

Syd hadn’t known that was what happened just before David entered her mind. She didn’t know what was happening outside of herself at all. She'd been trapped in a mental maze like everyone else.

"Even if Farouk did need help with the monk—" Ptonomy says. "I think you're right, all his actions were meant to keep David close, to make him culpable so he’d be afraid to tell us the truth. Even if Future Syd wanted David to help Farouk, Farouk didn't need the help."

"He did," Divad says. "Because she said that in her timeline, we killed Farouk in the desert."

"When did she tell you?" Ptonomy asks.

"The second time we saw her," Divad says. "After Farouk stole the genetic gun, we asked Kerry and Cary for help looking into the future. Multidimensional perception. We went into the tank and projected our mind into the future. Future Syd wasn't— She was surprised to see us."

"We couldn't read her mind," Dvd says. "We tried but it hurt."

"We confronted her. We helped Farouk get into Division 3 and Farouk killed people. He hurt Cary and Kerry. We needed to know why we had to help the monster. She said— 'It started like any other idea, as an egg. And then the few of us who are left went into hiding. But we don't have long. It's coming.'"

"That's it?" Syd asks. "That's— vague."

"She said she would need Farouk when things turned," Divad continues. "That Farouk kills a few but this thing kills everyone."

"Farouk's the reason we end the world in the first place," Dvd says, angrily. "What kind of stupid plan is that?"

"She must not have known," Syd says, feeling the need to defend herself, even if she agrees with Dvd. "None of us knew what was happening to David until we captured him because he kept so many secrets."

"I think we can all agree that secrets are what got us here," Ptonomy says. "That's why we need to understand the truth. Divad, what else happened?"

"Future Syd said we were sweet," Divad admits. "That we were like we were before. She didn't say before what. But David liked that, he offered to come back."

"Of course he did," Dvd grumbles. "That's what Syd does. She pretends to love us, lowers our defenses, crawls inside our head."

"I never pretended," Syd says, insulted. "I love David. If she's me, she must have loved him, too."

"She loved us so much she stole us for a year?" Dvd shoots back. "She loved us so much she made us help the shit beetle? She's the one who was messing with time so David would kill himself. You were trying to kill us! Again!"

"I'm not her," Syd insists, even though she is. Even though the whole point of this is to not become her simply by letting time pass.

"Did you see her again?" Ptonomy asks.

"She sent us a psychic message," Divad says. "With the light writing. It just said ‘hurry,’ and we saw flashes of her in some kind of danger. But when we saw her again, she was fine."

"That was when we were looking for the monk," Syd recalls. She remembers the way David kept wincing with pain. "Hurry to find the monk?"

Ptonomy gives a thoughtful hum. "You saw her again?"

"One last time," Divad says. "We—"

"Syd told us to," Dvd interrupts. "We didn't want to but she made us."

"I didn't make you do anything," Syd says, irritated. How does David stand having Dvd in his head all the time? "David was upset after what happened to Amy. He wouldn't talk to me, so I thought maybe he would— Talk to me. Future Syd must have known about what happened."

"She did," Divad agrees. "She apologized but— She didn't care. She kept pushing us to help Farouk. When we pushed back, she guilted us about it. And—" He hesitates. "She asked if we could say goodbye."

"What does that mean?" Syd asks, but she thinks she knows the answer.

"We had sex with her," Dvd says, proudly.

Syd was right. She saw them together in Farouk's visions, and she’s still not thrilled about it. "You hate Future Syd, why are you so happy?"

"Because unlike you, I actually care what David wants," Dvd says, angrily. "Even when he couldn't hear me, even when he didn't know who I was, I was always there for David. All you did was jerk him around and hurt him. I'm happy because making David happy hurt you."

Jesus. Syd can't believe Dvd is part of David. Dvd is nothing like David. David is sweet and gentle and in his right mind he'd rather hurt himself than anyone else. Dvd's angry and bitter and defensive to the point of violence. He's furious at the world and thinks everyone is out to get him and he wants to hurt them before they can hurt him.

He's—

He's exactly what someone like David should be, after everything he's been through. But that's so much anger, and even if it's righteous and earned, David doesn't want it. He takes all of those feelings and puts them somewhere else. He dissociates from them so he doesn't have to feel them, so he's Dvd when he feels them. The alter that's strong and powerful and saves David from the things that hurt him. The alter that uses anger as his fuel.

Dvd is bitter and angry so that David can be sweet and gentle. Dvd is hard so David can be soft.

Syd was right. She does know who David is. But David is only the parts of himself that he wants to keep.

Dvd might be irritating and arrogant, but that doesn't mean he's wrong. That doesn't mean his feelings aren't real. Because they're David's feelings even if he doesn't want them. Dvd was right about how they treated David before, imprisoning him and making him worse. He was right that they threw David away even as they tried to help him.

David feels like he deserves to suffer, so he can’t refuse the pain that he’s given. Dvd defends David when David can’t defend himself. It’s not just about physical threats but also emotional ones. Dvd stands up for David whether the threat is from the world or Divad or David himself.

If Dvd is angry with Syd, if he feels hurt by her actions, then that’s because David feels that way, because Dvd is part of David. That’s how Dvd speaks about them, as a collective whole. As three parts of one person with one body. Divad does the same, though he makes more of a distinction, maybe for David’s sake, since David still hasn’t accepted that he’s part of their system.

She told David once that the things that make them crazy make them who they are. Maybe she wouldn’t phrase it that way now, but— She can’t claim to love David if she only loves one-third of him. If she does that, she really is the same as Future Syd, and no matter how much she thinks she’s acting out of love, she’s only going to hurt him.

She turns to her left and looks at the empty space where it sounds like Dvd is coming from. "Dvd, you're right. I'm sorry."

There's a pause, and then a suspicious "What?"

"About Future Syd. If she loved David, she wouldn't have done those things to him. To you. She wouldn't have hurt you. I wouldn't have hurt you. I said I loved you, but I hurt you. I'm sorry."

Syd wishes she could see Dvd's face. She can't hear anything from him.

"You have every right to be mad at me," Syd continues, not sure if her words are helping or making things worse. "And if— If you truly think I'm hurting David by being here, I'll go. The last thing I want to do is get in the way of everything you're doing to help him heal. You and Divad know David better than anyone, even himself. I trust both of you to make the right decisions for him."

'It's a trick,' Dvd thinks. 'She doesn't mean it.' But he doesn't sound convinced, even in his thoughts.

"Come on," Divad whispers, sounding as if they're some distance away. "She's making an effort."

"So she can lower our defenses and crawl back inside our head," Dvd whispers back. "I'm not gonna let her hurt us again."

"We can't send her away," Divad whispers. "Then we'll be the ones hurting David."

Dvd makes a frustrated sound. "This whole week has been nothing but torture. Fuck that shit beetle. If we ever get this crown off our head, we're gonna torture him, see how he likes it."

"Let's not," Divad drawls. "That didn't work out so well last time."

"Thanks for the reminder," Dvd grumbles. "Fine," he says, his voice close again and directed at Syd. "You can stay. But if you hurt David again, you're going right to the top of my 'To Torture' list, you got it?"

"Got it," Syd says. She braces herself. "You know, now that I can hear you, maybe we can talk."

"About David?" Dvd asks, suspicious again.

"About you," Syd says. "Or about anything. Do you— Do you have any hobbies?"

A long pause. "My hobby is keeping David alive."

"That would keep anyone busy," Syd admits. "But you have help now. So maybe you have time for a hobby. If you want one."

Another pause. "Divad and I play cards."

'We do now that we're actually talking to each other again,' Divad thinks. "We could deal you in, but you can't see the cards."

"Maybe there's something else we can do. Something you used to do with David, when he was younger? When you weren't so busy saving his life?"

"We were always busy saving his life," Dvd insists. "But— We'll think about it." He sounds reluctant, but reluctant is better than furious.

Syd looks to Ptonomy. "Sorry, I think we derailed my group session. We're supposed to be working on Future Syd."

"Anything that improves your relationship with David is us working on Future Syd," Ptonomy says. "Dvd's right, whatever Future Syd claimed, she didn't love David. Maybe she thought she did, but everything she did pushed David right into the future she claimed to want to avoid."

"We still don’t understand why she did all that to us in the first place," Divad says.

Syd considers everything they discussed. "She was from decades in the future, but we have no idea what happens between now and then."

"Farouk died in her timeline," Divad points out. "Maybe him being alive means that timeline is gone."

"Farouk being alive could never be good," Dvd insists. "Even if the timeline has changed, that just means he can make everything worse. And now he knows he can get exactly what he wants."

That is a sobering thought. Farouk was already dangerous when he was just hoping he could use them to end the world. Now he knows he can do it and he’s glimpsed enough of the future to narrow down the possibilities. He can take a shorter path to his sunrise, the direct route, and it won’t take him decades to get there.

She was wrong. Farouk might be patient, but he’s hungry, too. He’s not going to wait decades, not now that he’s had a taste of his feast.

"I think— She didn’t know," Syd decides. "She didn’t know Farouk was the one behind everything. Farouk died in the desert, so in her original timeline— David wasn’t taken. He joined Division 3 with us and hunted for Farouk. It still took us a year to find the monk, but— A year is a long time. A year gave David time to get better, to get stronger. But also to get worse, because we didn’t know the extent of his trauma and he was never forced back into treatment. And then— the monk came to Division 3. Maybe he died, maybe he didn’t. Farouk’s plan was the same. Farouk killed Amy. He sent Lenny. He killed Ptonomy, he tried to kill the Admiral, he took Melanie. Farouk took away the people David relied on and made him unstable. Then they both went to the desert and David smashed Farouk’s head in with a rock. And then at some point, David figured out that Amy was still alive, trapped inside of Lenny, and— And he had to choose. He made the choice and—"

Who would David choose, if forced to choose between his sister and his best friend?

David would choose Amy.

"David killed Lenny," Syd says, and she has no evidence either way but she knows it’s true. "Farouk was long gone but he still made David do it. David gave Amy back her body, but— By then the damage was done. And that made him even worse. I must have— Future Syd must have watched him getting worse and worse, becoming violent and so unstable and so, so powerful. When the time came to stop him, she took him in the moment he was still weak and vulnerable and she put him as close to the end as she could. She didn’t need David to help Farouk. She needed David to be weak enough to lose when he went to the desert. She took a risk, sending him to Farouk, thinking that Farouk would keep David weak, but— She didn’t know Farouk was why David was unstable in the first place, that he was behind everything. She thought she was being merciful, ensuring a quick death, but Farouk used her to create the very future she was trying to avoid."

She pauses, reeling from her own revelation.

"But Farouk’s plan failed," she continues. "He took a risk, too. He needed us to be convinced that David had to be captured and forced into treatment, because that’s what David fears most: being forced back into a place like Clockworks. And David did need help, that was true, that was— That was the rabbit on the hook for us, for me. We took it and it almost worked. If David had been able to break free and he’d taken Lenny with him—"

She doesn’t continue. She doesn’t need to. The damage would have been done, and when it was over, there would have been no one left to save David. And Farouk would have still been alive, ready to close in for the kill. Ready to make his sunrise.

"He’s watching us now, watching us figure out all of this. He’s using everything he learns to make a new plan. Every path we close off, he can just keep finding new paths. But we have to get David better, we all have to all get better, because if we don’t, all the truths we can’t accept will become his weapons."

Syd doesn't want to become the dark future she saw, but there are so many possible dark futures and Farouk is patiently mapping them out, one by one. He’s sated now, bloated on David’s suffering just like he was in Clockworks. But when David wakes up from his pain, so will Farouk.

It’s terrible that she doesn’t want David to wake up. He’s in so much pain, but that pain is like the crown: it’s the only thing keeping him safe and alive. Like Clockworks kept him safe and alive. But this can’t go on. David can’t suffer forever, he’s already taken too much. So he has to get better. But getting him better means sending him straight into Farouk’s waiting arms. Just like Future Syd did. David will be weak and vulnerable and Farouk will close in for the kill.

"There’s no way out," Syd says, bleakly. "We have to keep going." They have only one choice and it's no choice at all.

"I don’t think I’m gonna have time for that hobby," Dvd says.

Syd can only nod in agreement.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, in a calming voice. "As bad as all of this is, it’s nothing we didn’t already know. It doesn’t change what we have to do. Our priority is still David’s treatment because that’s the only way to keep him from ending the world. And Syd’s treatment will keep her from being used to make that happen. We have to stay focused on the work."

"You’re right," Syd agrees. They have to do the work. The therapy, the memory work, all of it. It’s the only weapon they have. "We can’t afford to get distracted."

"We’re doing what Farouk wants," Ptonomy says. "He told you that. But it’s what we want, too. It’s what David needs. We have to stay focused on what David needs, what you both need. We’ll have another session tomorrow and we’ll work on you. Not Future Syd. We’ll work on you as you are now. So don’t worry about Farouk. Focus on David and focus on yourself."

He’s right. She has to stay focused. They have time before David gets better because David is still so broken. He nearly left them again today because he’s so broken. They have time. Farouk is watching but they have time.

Chapter 34: Day 7: If we’re going to save David, we need Lenny. (Amy)

Chapter Text

"Fuck, that was close," Lenny says. "Hey, maybe we should bring Syd into the mainframe. She can help us figure this shit out."

Ptonomy doesn’t deign to answer that. "It was close. Syd’s smart and she understands how Farouk thinks. That’s why Farouk keeps targeting her. We need to keep her focused on helping David and herself so that she doesn’t think about the bigger picture. We need to keep her attention on their pain, just like we’re keeping Farouk’s attention on their pain."

"I wish she could help us," Amy says. They’ve been trying to figure out how to save David so he can save them, but it’s not easy.

"She is helping us," Ptonomy says. "She’s helping David accept his diagnoses. She's helping him stay with us and work through his trauma. David can’t get better without her."

"It still hurts him every time he looks at her," Amy points out.

"Everything hurts him right now. But Syd— I think Syd and Lenny are the only way we’re going to get him through what’s waiting for him."

"What do I have to do with it?" Lenny asks.

"Everything. You were the face Farouk wore when David learned about the monster. You were inside him when Farouk possessed him. He used David’s love and trust for you to abuse and control him."

"Hey, I didn’t do any of that," Lenny protests. "I got killed and snatched and then I got raped, over and over."

"And every time Farouk raped you, he raped David using you," Ptonomy replies. "He violated both of you and he used you to make you hurt each other. That’s what he does. If you can’t accept that, you’re going to keep hurting David and you’re going to keep hurting yourself. You’ll be playing right into his hands."

Lenny groans in frustration. "I’m not gonna let you torture me."

"You’re already being tortured," Ptonomy says. "Farouk’s already torturing all of us because we care about David, and we’re torturing David because that’s the only way to help him survive a lifetime of Farouk’s torture."

"It’s not a therapy gangbang, it’s a torture gangbang," Lenny mutters.

"It is," Ptonomy admits. "But it’s working. David is getting better. So what are you gonna do?"

Lenny glares at him, baring her teeth. "Fuck you," she spits, and stalks off.

Ptonomy sighs and rubs his head. He sits down on a bench-sized transistor and slumps. Amy watches Lenny go, then sits down next to Ptonomy.

"You’re carrying so much with all of this," Amy soothes. "You need to rest."

"We don’t sleep anymore," Ptonomy says. "We don’t have bodies that get tired."

"Minds get tired, too," Amy says. "You’ve been going non-stop for days, working so hard to save everyone. You need to rest. It— It’s always helped me, to put my mind somewhere else for a while."

"Dissociation runs in families," Ptonomy says, automatically, then he looks at her. "Sorry, I know David was adopted."

"See?" Amy says. "You do need to rest. And David— I think he needs to rest, too. Today was—" She looks at the screen, at David holding tight to Cary’s hand. "He’s still working so hard to stay. We can’t push him any further without setting him back."

"Maybe you’re right," Ptonomy admits. "I still need to prepare for Syd’s session but— David needs a day off. Maybe we all do." He rubs his face and sits up. "But we need Lenny. If we’re going to save David, we need Lenny. I have to talk to her, get her to understand—"

"I’ll talk to her," Amy says.

Ptonomy gives her a look. He’s obviously trying not to seem skeptical, but she sees it anyway. She’s spent her life trying to understand David so she could help him. She failed, but—

Being dead has changed her. She feels calmer here in the mainframe, without her body. She can see things that were hard to see before, because her body made them hard to see. It got in the way, it made her anxious and afraid.

It’s still hard, being in this place. She’s never been any good with pain and even if her second death wasn’t physically painful, it still hurt. Watching David suffer hurts, even worse now than it did before because now she knows the truth. She was tortured by Division 3 a year ago but that was a paper cut compared to this. A few leeches are nothing compared to what she did to her baby brother, her Davey.

Six years. She left him in that place for six years so she could pretend to have a normal life with Ben. David accused her of wanting him to be normal, and it's true, she did. She wanted him to be normal because he insisted that he couldn't be happy as long as he was sick.

She didn't want to believe that, but she believed it anyway because David believed it, and-- She's always tried to play along with the things David believes. Whether that meant carrying around an empty leash or throwing a stick that an imaginary dog could never bring back. She tries to see the world as David sees it so she can help him survive, so she can reach through his fear and hold his hand and help him carry his pain.

But it was too much for her, helping him alone. It's too much for anyone to carry all that pain. It's too much for David and that's why she has three little brothers instead of just one. It's too much for Ptonomy to save them all by himself, but that's why he has her now, her and Lenny.

Lenny hasn't had anyone. That's what she said, that she's been alone. She doesn't even have David anymore because David can't stand the pain she gives him. It's so bad he can't bear to exist if he thinks about that pain.

Amy knows what that feels like. She knows what it's like to lose the person you love most because he can't bear to think about you. Syd understands it, too, but-- Syd needs to stay focused on the work she has laid out for her. And Lenny's already been horrifically used by Farouk. If anyone deserves to have their most private thoughts protected from the monster, it's her.

So Lenny needs help and that help has to come from inside the mainframe. Ptonomy has to focus on the work he's laid out for himself. So that means Amy has to be the one to step up and help. Even if Lenny hates her for what she did to David by putting him in Clockworks and leaving him there for six years. Lenny needs her like David needs her. Amy might not be a therapist, she might have made mistakes with David, but she wants to learn from those mistakes so she doesn't make them again. Maybe helping Lenny will help her, too. And then they can both help David, and David can finally stop the monster so it will never hurt any of them ever again.

§

Amy gives Lenny some time before she goes to find her. David needed that, sometimes, the space to calm himself before he could let anyone else come close. Now she knows that he must have been letting his alters calm him. Or maybe David wasn't David at all at those times, maybe he was Dvd or Divad or both, pretending to be David so no one would know anything was wrong.

Everyone always knew something was wrong. Like Syd, she wishes David had just told them. But-- He did try to tell them. He tried to tell Syd what he was feeling, what he'd been through. He tried to tell Amy and their parents that there was a monster inside him, hurting him. He tried to tell them that King was scaring him, that the imaginary, ever-present dog had changed from adoring to menacing. He tried to tell Amy that he was unhappy at Clockworks, because every time she saw him he asked if he could please, please leave.

David tried to tell everyone a lot of things. He blames himself for not saying more, but-- They didn't want to hear the things that he did say. They had their own ideas about him and if the things he said disagreed with them, well-- He was sick. He was unstable. He kept secrets and that made him a liar. And he knew. He heard their thoughts about him and all that did was make him blame himself more. Because he trusted them more than he trusted himself, so obviously they were right. Obviously he-- He deserved whatever he got because that was what everyone believed about him.

She only knows any of that because she heard it. She's been so close to David all his life, and she only understands him now because she was finally forced to listen in a way she couldn't deny. The mainframe and Oliver's relay make it impossible not to listen. She hears all of David's thoughts and she's watched all the recordings and--

She's thought a lot about her mistakes, and the biggest one of all was that she just didn't listen. She didn't hear him, she only heard-- Her version of him. Her David was her sick baby brother who couldn't take care of himself. He needed her to take care of him, to support him, to decide what was best for him. But she could never have made the right decisions for him because she didn't know what he needed because she didn't know anything about what was actually going on inside his head. It was all-- Invisible. Private. Unknowable, even, because without telepathy, how could she understand what he was experiencing when it was so beyond anything she'd experienced herself?

He tried to tell them, but he was too sick to explain his sickness. He was too afraid to explain his fear. It trapped him the same way she was trapped inside her own head, unable to reach the world, unable to tell anyone what she was going through.

She couldn't save herself from what Farouk did to her. David can't save himself either. He never could, even though he tried so hard he split himself in three. They'll get him out, she believes that, she has faith in him and in what they're doing. And when he's not trapped anymore, he'll save them and finish saving himself.

But they can't save him without Lenny.

It's easy for her to find Lenny. She just has to follow the music. Navigating the mainframe isn't easy for her, but Ptonomy helped her practice enough that she can get around. She reaches into the data streams and concentrates, searching the local signals, tuning through the channels bands.

Lenny listens to a lot of music. Her tastes are-- Eclectic. Sometimes it's frothy pop, sometimes it's harsh, ear-splitting metal. There doesn't seem to be any particular rhyme or reason to it, except that she never listens to anything sung in English. She only likes music in other languages. It could be anything from anywhere and Lenny will listen to it, as long as she can't understand the words.

Lenny was in Clockworks as long as David was. Maybe music was how she travelled the world when she couldn't even go outside.

That's the thing about Lenny. Whatever David went through in Clockworks, Lenny went through it, too. But she didn't have mutant alters who could protect her. She didn't have a sister visiting her every month. She was there before David got there, and she only got out because she died and had her soul taken by the monster.

Amy doesn't know if Lenny blames herself the way David does. She doesn't know if Lenny thinks she's a broken plate that was thrown away. She can't hear Lenny's thoughts. She only knows the little she does about Lenny because she knows it about David.

So she's going to have to ask to learn the rest. And more importantly, she's going to have to listen.

Assuming she can get Lenny to talk to her at all.

She finds Lenny lounging in one of the mainframe's countless, nearly identical rooms. Memory blocks, Ptonomy called them. They exist in the computer's virtual space where processes and data are copied so they can be used. This particular memory block is almost vibrating from the sound of a driving rock beat and what sounds like young girls singing intensely in Japanese. Lenny is lying on the floor with her legs propped up against a wall. She has her eyes closed and she's slapping the floor with the beat.

"Hey," Amy says, leaning over Lenny.

Lenny opens her eyes and glares at her. She lifts one hand and raises her middle finger, then goes back to listening to the music.

Yeah, this is not going to be easy. Lenny might have gone through a lot of the same things David did, but they're almost nothing alike. Amy understands why Ptonomy was skeptical. But she still has to try to get through to Lenny. David needs her to try.

Amy sits down on the floor next to Lenny. She listens to the music. It's-- It's not the kind of thing Amy would ever voluntarily listen to. Amy's always liked soothing music: classical pieces, folk music, people singing quietly about their feelings. This is-- loud and grating and dissonant. It's the opposite of relaxing, but Lenny's enjoying it. Lenny's using it to feel better.

The song ends and something else starts playing. She can't even pin down where it's from, but it sounds-- French? And German? It's dance music, with a heavy bass that goes right into her. It's less grating than the Japanese song, at least. She can kinda get into it. Not that she's ever been much for dance music.

The next track comes on. Another shift, this time to-- something Spanish? No, Latin American. Male voices and drums and acoustic guitars. It's pleasant and easy. She closes her eyes and sways with the beat.

The music stops. She opens her eyes and Lenny is sitting up and staring at her. Amy looks back, calmly.

"I know what you're doing," Lenny says, annoyed. "I heard you talking to Ptonomy."

Of course she did. The mainframe isn't built for privacy. "I want to help, if I can."

"You can't," Lenny says. "Not unless you can get me out."

"I want to get out, too," Amy admits. She doesn't bother to say the rest. They both know that even if they find a way to download them into new bodies, that will only put them right back in harm's way with everyone else. They both know that until Farouk is dead, no one will be safe, that even the mainframe isn't really safe. And they can't wait for Division 3 to build a weapon, even assuming Farouk would let that happen now that he's back in his body and not trapped in David's head. He might be distracted by David's suffering, but he's not stupid.

There's only one way they'll ever get out. There's only one person who can save them. He's the last person who should have to fight the monster. And Lenny's the last person who should have to save him so he can do it.

Amy reaches out and touches the wall, brings up the feed of David sleeping in the lab. Syd's sitting with him now, holding his hand while Cary and Kerry sleep, and David's holding on like he'll die if he lets go. Syd looks tired, worried, determined.

Lenny looks at the feed and then turns away. Amy reaches out to turn off the feed, but then decides to leave it up.

"It's not fair, what happened to you," Amy says. "None of this is your fault. You were killed, and-- And you shouldn't have to bear any responsibility for what happened after that."

"No shit," Lenny says. She glances at the screen, then looks back at Amy, challenging, wary.

"Do you want to--" Amy begins.

"No," Lenny says. "I am done talking about anything. I did my time. You wanna use me as some kind of prop? Get in line."

Lenny's angry. Amy makes herself listen to her anger and not react to it. Of course Lenny's angry, she has every right to be angry. Farouk used her as a prop to hurt David and everyone else. She doesn't want to be used that way again, even if it's to save herself and the world.

The mainframe isn't built for privacy. They both heard what Syd said about the other timeline, they had no choice but to hear it. Farouk used them both as props, and if Ptonomy hadn't killed them, David would have had to choose. Syd thinks he would have chosen Amy.

She's right. He would have chosen her. He would have killed Lenny. He didn't, but he would have, if he had to choose.

Farouk wasn't even alive in that timeline, and he still found ways to hurt all of them so much. That timeline doesn't even exist anymore, that never happened and never will, and it's still hurting them.

"He should have chosen you," Amy says.

Lenny narrows her eyes.

"In the other timeline. David should have let you keep my body. He should have put me out of my misery and let you live."

"None of that happened," Lenny says, dismissive.

"No, but Ptonomy and Syd still killed you to save me," Amy says. "To save both of us, but-- They wouldn't have put you here if it wasn't for me. It's my fault they killed you, that David would have killed you. I'm sorry."

Lenny looks at David. "It's his fault," Lenny says. "The shit beetle."

"And it's mine," Amy says. "And it's David's and Ptonomy's and-- Farouk used all of us to do terrible things we didn't want to do. I thought I was doing the right thing by putting David into Clockworks. And it was and it wasn't and-- I know that in that timeline, David didn't want to make that choice. But he felt he had to. Whatever happened-- He couldn't let me suffer the way he suffered. He had to get me out, he had to try to save me. But it must have been too late to save me. I'm-- I'm not good at prisons. I can't-- If I had to go through any of what you have gone through, what David's gone through, I-- I wouldn't have survived. Not the way you and David survived."

She wouldn't have. She would have been--

"I helped end the world," Amy realizes, her throat tight. "David saved me and I made him end the world." She doesn't have any proof and she doesn't want any, but she knows it. She knows how much it hurts him to see her upset. She knows he can't bear it. He couldn't tell her any of the awful things that happened to him because he didn't want her to cry. He blames himself for so much. If all of those terrible things happened, if he killed Lenny to save her and then she was-- Broken and mad and--

It would have destroyed him. He would have been-- He would have lost control in his grief and pain, just like he did when Farouk killed her, but it would have been so much worse. He would have wanted to make everything go away, to dissociate the entire world from himself, and that's what he did.

"Shit," Lenny curses. "Don't cry all over me."

"Sorry," Amy sniffs. She tries to remember how to make a tissue box, the way Ptonomy showed her. She can't remember.

Lenny sighs and makes one for her and hands it over.

"Thank you," Amy says, and wipes her eyes, blows her nose.

"This is all so fucked up," Lenny says, frustrated. "I'm tired of being his doll. That's all we are to him. We're not real. We don't exist. If he doesn't need us, we're just-- Things in drawers he can take out and use and put away. He doesn't even care about David. He's obsessed with him but David's just another doll. I'm not gonna let him use me again."

"Then don't," Amy says. "Help us save David."

Lenny gives a bitter laugh. "That's what he wants us to do. David's right, what's the point? You think this time is different? I know that monster better than anyone and trust me, sister, this ain't different."

"It has to be," Amy insists. "If it's not-- Then what should we do? Let David kill himself, and kill ourselves too so Farouk can't torture us for the rest of our lives?"

"We're already dead."

"That didn't stop him before."

That makes Lenny go still. "Shit. Shit. Goddamn it." She kicks the wall and presses her palm against her forehead. "Fuck!"

"Yeah," Amy agrees.

Lenny kicks the wall again. She stands up and kicks it and kicks it. But it doesn't so much as scuff the virtual walls of the mainframe. Nothing in this place is real. They're not really in a room, they're not really alive. They're--

"We're dead," Amy says. She stands up and Lenny stops kicking the wall to look at her. "But we're real, we exist, we-- We're not going to let him use us to end the world. You're right, Farouk hasn't changed. He'll never change. But we can. And if we change, we're the ones who make this different."

"Don't ever pep talk me again," Lenny says, crossing her arms. But she's wavering. She just needs a little push, like she did with the blue octopus and the desert.

"Don't do this for David," Amy says, realizing the words as she says them. "Do this for yourself. Make sure you'll never be his doll again."

Lenny doesn't answer that. She still has her arms crossed defiantly. But-- Amy lived inside of her head, just for a while. She knows a little bit about how Lenny works that doesn't have anything to do with David. And she knows what it looks like when Lenny changes her mind. She's glad she can see it from the outside this time, instead of the inside.

Chapter 35: Day 8: The Haller family. (David)

Chapter Text

There’s someone holding David’s hand.

That’s the first thing he’s aware of as he surfaces from sleep. His hand aches, the muscles overtired, but he doesn’t want to let go.

The second thing he realizes is that the hand he’s holding isn’t human. He cracks opens his eyes. It’s the Vermillion.

“Ptonomy?” David asks, muzzy from sleep. How did he end up holding Ptonomy’s hand? The last thing he remembers— What’s the last thing he remembers?

“Morning, sleepyhead.” It’s not Ptonomy’s voice coming out of the Vermillion, it’s Amy’s.

“Amy?”

The memory work. King and— David’s eyes open wide. He almost went away. He— He didn’t. He touches his free hand to his chest, feeling his body. He’s still here. How did he—

It’s fuzzy, but— He remembers being touched, being— Held. Anchored. Kerry and Cary and— Syd. He remembers Syd looking at him, holding his hand.

He sits up, suddenly, and a wave of dizziness stills him. He looks over anyway and sees that Syd is sleeping in her cot beside him.

Oh, he feels— He need to lie down.

“Take it easy,” Amy soothes, helping him back down. “Everything’s okay. Just rest.”

David has a thousand arguments against that, but he doesn’t have the strength to voice them. He doesn’t need to voice them anyway, not when Amy can just hear his thoughts.

But Amy doesn’t react.

Amy?

“Oliver’s asleep,” Amy says, quietly, reacting not to his thoughts but to his confusion. “Everyone’s asleep. It’s just us early birds.”

Early birds. That’s what she would call them when he came into her room before her alarm and woke her up. Except— Did that happen? If Amy remembers it, it must have happened. Or some of it happened, somehow.

He feels very— Insubstantial. Despite the fact that he’s still in his body and present in it. He should think about the memory work and King and— But he doesn’t want to think about any of it, not right now. He’s not sure there’ll be anything left of him if he digs any deeper.

Amy can’t hear any of what he’s thinking, not until Oliver wakes up. He never thought he would miss that but he does. There’s so much that feels impossible to say aloud, especially to her. Saying it aloud makes it— Real. Not that his thoughts aren’t real, but—

Are his alters asleep? Do they need to sleep? If he’s three separate people all the time, they must need to sleep. Unless it’s only his body that needs to sleep? He knows they can be awake when he isn’t. Maybe it’s like astral projecting. He’s been outside of his body for days at a time and didn’t experience sleep. Did Oliver not sleep in his ice cube for twenty years? No wonder he lost his mind.

“We’re awake now, noisy,” says Divad, from over on the sofa. “We nap when we can. We don’t need much.”

Dvd yawns, still slumped over in one of the loveseats. “Can’t let down our guard,” he mutters, but he puts his head down and closes his eyes.

“Don’t worry about us, talk to Amy,” Divad says.

Amy. Right. He hasn’t said anything aloud for minutes and she’s waiting. What was she talking about? Oh right, early birds.

“Did we catch many worms?” David asks.

Amy gives an amused huff. “We did when Dad took us fishing. You remember that, right?”

He does. He remembers holding the rod, waiting and watching the water. He remembers Amy beside him. He remembers their father towering above them, the sun silhouetting his face. He thinks of Philly complaining that he didn't have any photos of his family.

"Amy, do you-- Are there any pictures of us? Family photos?"

"Of course," Amy says. "They're back at the house, but-- I'm sure Clark will get them for us. You used to have some, you took them with you to college. Did you--" She hesitates.

"I don't know," David admits. "Farouk must have-- He must have made me get rid of them, somehow." He waits for the alters to correct him or expand on what happened, but they don't. They didn't want to talk about what happened in college before, either. It's probably-- Bad. Very bad.

Probably best not to open that particular can of worms right now. Or ever.

"Well, once we get them back we'll look at them together," Amy says. "Maybe they'll help you remember the good things. There were a lot of good things, David. I promise."

"They weren't real," David says, though he shouldn't. He doesn't want to upset her, but-- He's already upset her. She's heard everything he's been thinking, so many awful things. But she's still here, holding his hand, trying to help.

"They were," Amy insists. "I remember. I have so many photos of you, of us. Of our family together, being happy. I'm sure there's a picture somewhere of us going fishing. You were always so proud when we caught a fish, even if it was too small to keep."

David remembers-- Holding a net. The way the fish would flap around in it, trying to get back to the water. He feels bad for them now. It feels cruel, pulling them out of everything they knew, confusing them and trapping them and--

He knows what Amy is doing. She's trying to help him reconnect with who he used to be, if that was who he used to be. But even the good memories are poisoned. Farouk only left them behind so he could use them against him, so he could manipulate him and trick him.

"I can't," he says. "I can't remember."

"Of course you can," Amy says.

"I can't," David insists. "They were-- They're a trick. I relied on them to survive but all that did was make me worse. I can't-- I can't rely on them if I want to get better." Philly was right. He doesn't have a past. The person he is now never had a past. He shouldn't look at the photos, he shouldn't try to salvage the unsalvageable. There are things he's lost that he's never getting back, and he's never getting back any of that. Trying to remember is just-- It's just erasing him. He has so little left and he loses another piece of himself every time he tries.

"Okay," Amy says, accepting. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to today. No memory work, no sessions. We're just going to spend the day together. Can we still do that?"

She asks it so-- He doesn't want to remember anything but-- She asks it like she always asked him, when he was upset. If it was okay to be with him, if she could-- If she could hug him. In the memories he can't trust and in the ones after college and now. She's his only constant, the only thing he knows is real through his entire life.

And she's-- He can't see her, he can't touch her. She's barely here at all, just like him. But they're both here and she's holding his hand. It's not her hand but she's still holding him with it. She's suffering just as much as he is and she's holding on for him.

He reaches for her and she doesn't need him to ask. She hugs him and he hugs her back. Her body is hard and artificial but-- It feels more like she's really inside it, the way she's holding him. The way she's always held him.

It doesn’t undo anything. It doesn’t change the fact that she hurt him or that she died because of him. But he needs her and he doesn’t want to be angry and— She know how he feels and— She still loves him, she’s still his sister, he still loves her.

He doesn’t want to lose her. There’s so little left of both of them. They can’t afford to lose each other and— The past doesn’t matter, whether it’s real or not, it doesn’t matter. They’re here now and he doesn’t want to lose her, not to Farouk and not to himself.

When he finally lets her go, he wipes his eyes and tries to smile for her. It’s wobbly but it’s a smile. The Vermillion smiles back, and it’s not natural but— He knows she’s trying. He knows she means it.

“How about we go get breakfast for everyone?” Amy suggests.

“Can we— Should we do that?” David asks, uncertain. It was one thing to be escorted to the garden. He’s not sure if he should— They probably shouldn’t trust him with any kind of responsibility, even if it’s just carrying some trays. They said he wasn’t a prisoner anymore, but— He still is, maybe not to his friends but to everyone else here. He’s not a prisoner of the lab but he’s a prisoner of Division 3. Clark made that clear. He doubts they want him roaming around.

“Ptonomy said it's fine," Amy assures him. "As long as one of us is with you, and I'm with you."

She is.

§

They are early birds, even for Division 3. David's grateful for that, that there aren't many people around to gawp at him. There are soldiers on patrol and a few scientists still bleary-eyed before their coffee fix, but none of them do more than give him a long, curious glance. And then of course there's the Vermillion. It's weird seeing the other Vermillion now. He knows they're just androids, just extensions of Admiral Fukuyama's mainframe mind, but-- It's hard not to see Ptonomy and Amy and-- And Lenny inside them.

He still hasn't talked to Lenny. She lost her body and he can't face her. She probably hates him for that. He deserves her hate. So many terrible things have happened to her because of him. She shouldn't have taken pity on him when they met in Clockworks. She died twice, she was tortured in-- He doesn't know how many ways. She was trapped in his head and then she was trapped in Oliver's head and-- He knows why she ran away, when he freed her. They saw that she would run away. He and his alters, they made the plan that way because they knew Lenny would want to get as far away from all of this as she could, and they knew she would get as far as the blue octopus. So they sent Cary and Kerry to her.

They should have let her go. He would have lost, but-- She would have been free and alive and-- And now she's trapped again and just as barely there as he is, as Amy is. That's what they all are: ghostly prisoners of one thing or another. Insubstantial.

And speaking of insubstantial, Divad and Dvd are enjoying walking through said soldiers and scientists and Vermillion. Everyone passes through them like they aren't there at all, because of course they aren't. The alters walk through the glass walls of the cafeteria ahead of them and walk through the tables.

"Stop it," David hisses under his breath.

In response to that, they walk into the curving counter and stand in the way of the lazy river. The little boats of food pass right through them.

"That's-- That's unsanitary," David whispers at them, and a man sitting in a corner table glances up at him.

"It can't be unsanitary if none of it is touching us," Divad points out.

Dvd crouches down through the counter and opens his mouth. A waffle boat passes through his head. "Mmm, delicious. We should get some waffles. Hey Amy, get us waffles.”

Amy can’t hear him. She walks up to the service window and speaks with the cafeteria staff. Then she walks back to David.

“It’ll just be a few minutes,” Amy tells him. “Let’s sit down.”

They sit at a table, Amy on one side and David on the other. Dvd sits next to David and David scoots over.

“Ah, could you?” David asks Amy, motioning for her to make room for Divad.

“Oh, of course.”

And then they’re all sitting together. “The Haller family,” David says aloud, feeling utterly ridiculous. His not-dead digital sister and his hallucinatory, imaginary identical brothers. And he’s not any better: an amnesiac, mentally-damaged torture victim who can’t remember two of them and is afraid to remember the other.

"I think it's nice," Amy says. "It would be nicer if Oliver was awake. I want us to be able to sit together and talk. We are family, David. With Mom and Dad gone, we're all we have left."

David picks up the salt shaker and stares at it. There's rice mixed in with the salt. He thinks it’s to keep it from clumping. "I know," he says.

He still feels terrible about missing Dad's funeral. Even if-- Especially if he had a better relationship with his father than he remembers. His adoptive father. He has no idea who his real father is, and-- He doesn't know if he wants to know.

Farouk knows who his father is. They fought on the astral plane and then Farouk looked for him, and instead of attacking him he took his revenge on his father's defenseless infant son. David's real father must have been too powerful for Farouk. He was too powerful for him. He defeated Farouk even though he had his body, and everyone said Farouk would be unstoppable once he had his body back.

Except he was stopped, once, by David's mysterious and powerful father. Not completely, he didn't finish what he started, but--

It probably doesn't matter. David can't even use his powers, and if Lenny hadn't been there to shoot the Choke, Farouk would have won in the desert. They saw that when they made the plan. Farouk's never been afraid of David's powers. He wasn't afraid when they met face-to-face for the first time, and he wasn't afraid when they fought in La Désolé. Even if David has more raw power, Farouk's been mastering his powers for centuries. David's never been able to stop Farouk, even in the life where he did know there was a monster inside of him, where he knew about his powers from the start and used them. He and his alters couldn't even kill a fake dog.

"We did kill it," Dvd insists. "King never came back."

"That was just another trick," David says, grumpily. Like how his entire childhood is just another trick. His entire life, really.

"What was?" Amy asks.

David finally looks up from the salt shaker. "It doesn't matter," he says, not wanting to talk about King or any of his memories and not-memories. "I'm sorry, I'm not very good company."

"We don't have to talk," Amy says. "I'm just happy we're together again. I missed you when you were gone. I missed you when you were in Clockworks. I-- You know, when you showed up at my house on Halloween-- Ben wanted to send you back right away. We knew they didn't actually let you out. But--"

David meets her eyes, the Vermillion's eyes.

"I promised Ben I'd call the hospital and tell them where you were, but only if-- Only if you were in danger of hurting yourself or anyone else. I thought maybe-- You'd been so much happier, that last year, calmer and-- I thought maybe we wouldn't have to bring you back."

David stares at her. "You wanted me to stay?" he asks, his voice small.

"Of course I did," Amy says. She reaches one of the Vermillion's hands across the table, and he takes it, hesitant. "I never wanted to send you away in the first place, I just-- I didn't know what else to do."

He looks down at their hands. "I heard your thoughts. You were afraid." He didn't know that they were really her thoughts, not then. He didn't trust the things he heard. He didn't know he was a mutant and a mind reader. He thought he was crazy. He's still crazy, just-- Not the same crazy.

"I was," Amy admits. "I wish Mom and Dad had trusted me. I wouldn't have told anyone. I would have protected you. Not knowing-- It was like living in a haunted house, sometimes. I didn't want to admit to myself that-- That things were wrong. We were already dealing with so much, with you and Mom both being sick."

"Mom was sick?" David asks. He doesn't remember that.

Amy goes still, and then her grip on his hand tightens. "David, Mom was-- Don't you remember anything about her?"

David looks to his alters. Divad and Dvd look back at him, and it's obvious from their faces that they don't want to have to be the ones to tell him any of this, whatever he's forgotten.

"Apparently not," David says. "Maybe you shouldn't. If it's-- Upsetting. Maybe you shouldn't tell me." Not that he feels any better knowing he's forgotten even more. He's not so much a five-hundred piece puzzle with only fifteen pieces as a box with three puzzle pieces and one of the pieces is from the wrong puzzle.

"Okay," Amy says. "We don't have to talk about Mom. You don't have to do anything you don't want to today."

David knows she wants to tell him. He doesn't have to be a mind reader or even see her face to know that. It hurts her to not tell him. But he can't-- He can't take anything else. He has to say no, even if it hurts her. If he wants to get better, he needs to stop hurting himself.

The bell rings at the service window. "That's us," Amy says. She slides through Divad before he has a chance to move out of the way.

She's upset. She wouldn't have done that to Divad if she wasn't upset, even though she can't see him or hear him. David should have just let her tell him and taken whatever suffering was coming for him. He'll have to find out the truth eventually. It's going to hurt no matter what. He's putting her through this for nothing.

"She said you don't have to," Divad reminds him. "It can wait. You need to take it easy, you're still not recovered from yesterday."

"You know what it is," David says, annoyed. "You both know. Just tell me so I can get it over with."

"We're here to protect you, not hurt you," Divad says. "No memory work today. That includes this."

David turns to Dvd. "You never agree with Divad. You don't like Ptonomy. You don’t even like Amy.”

Dvd makes a face. "They've got a point. You nearly went away."

"She's my mother," David insists. "Adoptive mother. I should know about her."

"You should know about us, too," Dvd says. "It hurts us that you don't, but we put up with it because we know you're not ready. Amy will be fine. If you keep trying to remember everything, you'll go away again and we do not want you to go away, you got it?"

"David?" Amy calls, from the window. "Can you come give me a hand?"

David glares at his alters, and then deliberately slides through Dvd. Dvd makes an affronted noise, but David ignores him and goes over to Amy.

"One tray for you and two for me," Amy says, cheerfully.

David knows her false cheer when he hears it, he's heard it enough over the years, whether the memories were real or not. But he also knows they're right, all of them. He can't take any more shocks right now, no matter how bad he feels about not knowing. He's insubstantial enough as it is. If he finds out anything more, the puzzle box will be completely empty and then what?

That doesn't bear thinking about either.

They carry the trays back and no one says anything. Divad and Dvd don't walk through anyone. David tries very hard not to feel like everyone's bad mood is his fault, but it's completely his fault. He really does find all kinds of new ways to ruin everything.

David follows Amy into the lab, eyes on the tray to make sure everything stays steady. And then he looks up and the tray slips from his nerveless fingers.

"Whoa there," Ptonomy says, catching the tray before it falls.

It's Ptonomy. Not Ptonomy in a Vermillion. It's actually Ptonomy in a dressy suit. David gawps at him, unable to speak.

Ptonomy puts the tray down on the table. He takes David's limp hand and pulls him into a chair. Ptonomy's hands are cold and hard, like the Vermillion's hands.

"The Admiral had this made for me," Ptonomy explains. "It came in early this morning."

David sees now that Ptonomy's skin, his eyes, his hair— They're his, but-- Artificial. Convincing but unnatural.

"I like to think of it as a custom suit," Ptonomy says, and smiles. It really looks like his smile. His voice still sounds filtered, but it's not musical anymore. "They're making ones for Amy and Lenny, too. They'll be ready soon. I prefer my mustache with a beard and I'm sure they'll be happier looking like themselves. Having three identical androids in the lab at once would be confusing."

"Three?" David echoes.

"Three," Ptonomy says. "Not yet. When you're ready. You don't have to do anything you don't want to today. But it's not fair for us to leave Lenny on her own, right?"

"No," David agrees, faintly. He can't stop staring at Ptonomy. It's really like he's alive again. He’s not, but-- It really feels like he is.

Amy sits down in the chair in front of him. "I'll have mine soon," she says, and now her happiness is real. "You'll be able to see me."

He'll be able to see her. Not her her, but-- It'll be like she's alive again, like Ptonomy is alive.

He reaches for her and she doesn't need him to ask. She hugs him and he hugs her back. This body isn't hers and the new one won't be either, but-- It will feel like she's really inside it. She'll be alive and she'll hold him in her arms, her arms, the way she's always held him.

Chapter 36: Day 8: She’s not used to having to share. (Amy)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy’s alive and everyone is so happy to see him. Cary and Kerry hug him warmly, and even Syd makes an effort, though hugging clearly doesn’t come naturally to her.

They know he’s not really alive, that his new body isn’t a living body. But the illusion is convincing and they want to be convinced. They want to have Ptonomy back the way they used to have him. Ptonomy wants it, too. Amy knows all of this has been so much harder for him than he’s let on. So she’s happy for all of them.

They’re all happy to see her, too, even though the Vermillion’s appearance keeps them at a distance. Amy understands. It’s very strange for her. All of this is far beyond the life she knew but she’s trying to adapt. Not just for David, but for herself.

She lost her life, she lost Ben. Her old existence is as dead as her old body. But now she can be with them: David’s friends, her friends. She was only just starting to get to know them when David was taken, and then she lost touch with everyone but Syd during her year in witness protection. It’ll be easier once she gets her own custom android body and looks like herself again, but for now she can be with them and talk to them, and that’s more than she’s been able to do: exiled from the lab by David’s treatment, unable to do anything but watch.

“So you’re staying with us now?” Cary asks.

“We are,” Amy says, gladly. “We’re still in mainframe, of course, but— Ptonomy said it would be better for all of us to be together as much as possible.”

“Absolutely,” Cary agrees. “And you’ve been through so much. I’m so sorry about all of it. Losing Ben and— Everything you’ve suffered.” He reaches out and takes her hand, gives it a comforting squeeze. “‘I’m sorry we couldn’t protect you.”

Amy glances at David, but he’s distracted, eating his breakfast and staring at Ptonomy like he’ll vanish if David looks away for too long.

“You did the best you could,” Amy says, forgiving them. If she could go back, she would have insisted on staying with them. She wouldn’t have tried to go back to her old, normal life, even as she was forced to give up her home and her job and her friends and move far away to the desert. The monster could have got to her no matter where they put her. If she’d stayed, she could have helped somehow. She wouldn’t have been alone.

Ben wouldn’t have liked it. He didn’t want anything to do with David’s strange new mutant friends. But Ben is gone. He’s never coming back. He didn’t have his soul ripped from his body and then shoved back inside it too deep to be found. He’s just dust that’s been blown away.

Grief catches her unprepared. In the mainframe, her face crumples, but the Vermillion remains impassive. She can’t hide her tight, pained gasp, and David turns to her.

“Amy?” he asks, immediately concerned.

“I’m okay,” Amy assures him. She doesn’t want to give him anything else to be upset about. He isn’t even well enough to hear about their mother.

God, she can’t believe Farouk made him forget their mother. Amy is horrified that she didn’t realize it sooner. David changed when he was at college, he got so much worse, but they didn’t talk about Mom. They stopped talking about Mom after she died.

Amy’s starting to realize that there were a lot of things their family didn’t talk about.

David looks at her, searching the Vermillion’s face for all the ways Amy’s face used to give her feelings away. But he doesn’t find them. She doesn’t know how to put them there and she doesn’t want him to see them. His fear of her pain has stopped him from telling her so much. It’s better for him if he doesn’t see it.

He’s so— It breaks her heart, seeing him suffering. Even without hearing his thoughts. He’s— Haggard, from everything he’s been through, everything they’re putting him through. It’s taken so much from him. He’s trying to hide how terrified he is, but he can’t. David’s never been able to hide his feelings. He might have kept the reasons for his feelings secret, but he couldn’t hide the feelings themselves. They’ve always been undeniable, no matter how much they all wanted to deny them.

Amy smiles for him and the worry eases from his eyes. It doesn’t go away; he won’t stop worrying about her until she’s back in a living body and safe from the monster. But none of that is going to happen right now. He smiles back as much as he can.

Her Davey. Her sweet little brother. They have to save him, the way they should have saved him.

Amy suddenly feels someone staring at her. It’s Kerry. Amy never really had a chance to talk to Kerry before. Amy was just a puppet Farouk controlled in the fake Clockworks, and then when they were freed, Kerry was standoffish, in the middle of some kind of fight with Cary. And then David was gone and the monster was free and Amy had to leave.

Amy knows a little about Cary and Kerry. She knows they’re— Twins, somehow. That they share a body and that Cary was on the outside until Farouk changed them. Ptonomy caught her up on that and she’s seen Kerry talking to David, bonding with him. They’ve been good for each other. Amy’s grateful that Kerry helped David when no one else could.

None of that explains why Kerry is staring at her now, in a strange, silent mix of curious and hostile.

“Kerry, is something wrong?” Amy asks her. She has plenty of experience with strange, difficult people. Sometimes the best way to help them is to get them talking. She wishes she’d got David to talk more. Maybe if she had—

“No,” Kerry says, like an accusation. She looks at David, then stares at Amy again.

Cary turns to Kerry, concerned. “Kerry, don’t be rude. Amy’s David’s sister and our friend.”

“I know,” Kerry says, defensive.

“Kerry?” David asks, worrying about her now.

Kerry settles, smiling for him. “I’m okay. It’s just, um— The lab’s kinda full. I’m not— Used to so many people.”

David looks around the table and so does Amy. Oliver’s asleep — not that Kerry could hear the alters anyway — and the only new person at the table is Amy.

David looks to Amy, realizing the same thing. He’s confused. He has no idea why Amy’s presence should upset Kerry.

Amy looks at Cary, and she sees him realizing the answer as she realizes it herself.

“Kerry, why don’t you go take a break?” Cary suggests. When she hesitates, he says: “David will be fine.”

“I know that,” Kerry huffs. But she looks at David again, and it’s obvious that she doesn’t know that. She shows her feelings as guilelessly as David, and she’s very worried about him because David is extremely far from fine.

Kerry looks to Cary and he gives her an encouraging smile. “If you need a break, you can go. It’s okay. We’re all here with him.”

Kerry looks up at the loft where the exercise equipment is. She looks at the door to the hallway. She looks at Amy and David. “I’m gonna stay,” she decides, crossing her arms.

“Okay,” Cary agrees. He puts down his fork and gives an exaggerated stretch. “I could use a walk after that breakfast. Amy, now that you’re not stuck in the mainframe, how about we stretch our legs?”

Amy is still very much stuck in the mainframe, but she plays along. “That sounds lovely. You can show me around.”

“All the glorious sights of Division 3,” Cary jokes, warmly. “We won’t be gone long,” he assures Kerry.

Kerry shrugs. “I’ll keep everyone here safe,” she assures them, but she’s looking at David as she says it.

Amy gives David a reassuring touch to his shoulder, then follows Cary out of the lab. They walk until the lab door is out of sight, then he stops her.

“I’m sorry about that,” Cary says. “Kerry’s— She’s not used to having to share.”

“David means a lot to her,” Amy says. “He has that effect on people.”

“That he does,” Cary admits. “He means a lot to all of us. But that’s no excuse for her being jealous of your presence. She of all people should understand the importance of sibling relationships.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Amy offers. “From what I understand, you were all she had. If she’s treating David like he’s you—“ She thinks about how hard it was to let David leave for college. How hard it was to let him walk into Clockworks, even though it was the only way she had to save his life.

“She’s been— Dealing with a great number of difficulties,” Cary says. “Our physical ages are— Circumstances mean our time together is limited. Perhaps she’s— Attaching herself to David to prepare herself for my absence.”

“I’m sorry,” Amy says, because that’s all she can think to say.

“Oh, I’m healthy as an ox,” Cary assures her. “And according to the Admiral, I’m still alive decades from now, so really there’s no cause for concern. But Kerry will be alive for many decades more, god willing. She doesn’t want to face them alone. David is— He’s the first friend she’s ever made. The first she’s made for herself and not simply because— Because that person was my friend first.”

“And she doesn’t know how to share,” Amy echoes. “She’ll have to learn. David needs both of us. And David— She has nothing to worry about. He’s not going to ignore her just because I’m here.”

“I think she knows that,” Cary says. “She used to be very jealous about me, but she learned that I would always be here for her. She could always go inside me. With David— She doesn’t have that connection, that certainty. She doesn’t even have it with me anymore. She’s trying to embrace being outside, but— It’s a difficult time for her.”

“Is there any way I can help?” Amy asks. "I don't mind. I can't just-- Sit around waiting for David to need me." She's doing much more than that in the mainframe, but Cary can't know about any of that.

"Possibly," Cary says, thinking. "Kerry's never really had a-- Female influence in her life. Our mother was-- Kerry didn't come out when she was around. Melanie helped, but-- She was our therapist as well as our friend. That made things--"

Amy gives an agreeing hum. "David's had a lot of therapists. Some of them were better than others, but--"

"Melanie cared a great deal for Kerry," Cary assures her. "She was the first person Kerry trusted enough to come out for. Melanie changed our lives. But she wasn't Kerry's friend. Perhaps-- If you're willing--"

"I'd love to be Kerry's friend," Amy says, warmly. "If she'll have me. I'd like to get to know everyone better now that I have the chance. When I first met everyone, things were so crazy, and-- I'm afraid I wasn't ready."

Cary's expression shutters. "Because we're mutants?"

Amy hesitates. "I-- I didn't even know what a mutant was until David told me. I don't-- I suppose it wasn't what you were so much as-- What you weren't. I just wanted-- Things had been so difficult for so long. I just wanted things to be calm and normal and-- I knew I wouldn't be able to have that if I stayed." She gives a bitter laugh. "Not that I had it anyway. I just-- Fooled myself into thinking I did. And Ben--"

God, Ben. He's dead, he's really dead. She starts crying. She doesn't want to but she can't help it.

"Oh, Amy," Cary says, and opens his arms for her. Even though she just said he wasn't normal, that she didn't want to be part of his world, he opens his arms for her.

David was right. He is the best hugger. Even through the Vermillion she can feel that.

"I'm sorry," Amy says, not wanting to add to his troubles.

"No, don't apologize," Cary says. "I'm sure you don't want to talk to David about what you've been through. He probably couldn't handle it if you did. But I'd like to be your friend, too. We all would. And you can always talk to your friends."

"I'd like that," Amy says, wiping her eyes in the mainframe. "I'm sorry I said you aren't normal."

"Oh, we're nowhere near normal," Cary says, wholeheartedly. "But I think that's a very good thing. It's difficult, sometimes, but-- Being different can make us stronger, if we let it. And no one is really normal. We just happen to be a little less average than the average."

"You should tell David that," Amy says. "He-- I tried to encourage him to-- To not be afraid to want things. I think he tried, but-- He was so convinced that he didn't deserve to have anything good in his life because he was sick. That it somehow made him-- Undeserving of love or kindness or-- Anything."

"Did he always feel that way?" Cary asks.

Amy thinks back. "I don't know when it started. David was always unhappy, but-- I don't know when he started to believe that. I wish we knew what happened to David in college. We need to talk to Divad and Dvd, but-- They're very protective of him. And now they're guarding their thoughts."

"I'm sure Divad will tell us," Cary says. "From the little I've heard from him, he understands how important David's treatment is. You can talk to the alters directly from the mainframe, without David knowing, right?"

"When Oliver's awake," Amy says. "Dvd hasn't wanted to talk to us at all, but Divad has kept us updated on David's progress and given us guidance. I don't think either of them wants to talk about what Farouk actually put them through."

"That's understandable," Cary says. "But their trauma is David's trauma. They're going to have to open up eventually."

"I don't envy Ptonomy that job," Amy says. "It's hard enough helping David with all of our help. The alters are-- They really are trapped in David's head."

"Once David has access to his powers again, that could change," Cary says. "But that's not an option as long as David is still suicidal. He's better, but-- He's far too delicate."

"He is," Amy agrees. She knows exactly how easy it is for David to backslide. Without the crown, he could kill himself with one bad thought, and none of them would be able to do anything to stop him, even the alters. "Maybe--"

"Yes?" Cary prompts, when she doesn't continue.

"Oliver put a telepathic antenna in Syd's head so she could hear Divad and Dvd during her session," Amy says. "It was only meant to be temporary, but-- You and Kerry are now the only people who are physically unable to receive David's relay. If the two of you are willing to let Oliver help--"

Cary considers this. "I certainly trust Oliver, and so does Kerry, even if Oliver barely remembers us. I think the bigger problem is David. I understand that we won't be able to hear the alters without also hearing David's thoughts?"

"Oliver said that the alters' voices are David's thoughts," Amy explains. "They're thoughts he thinks his other identities are saying aloud, as well as thoughts he thinks they're thinking. So there isn't really any way to separate them."

"David's upset enough about having his thoughts relayed into the mainframe," Cary says. "And he understands that's necessary for Ptonomy to help him. I can't see him agreeing to letting me and Kerry and Syd hear his thoughts all the time, even if it means we can hear Divad and Dvd."

"Maybe Syd could help convince him?" Amy asks. "David did think about wanting her to hear his thoughts."

"Maybe," Cary says. "But that could be dangerous for both of them. Syd's-- She's afraid of what she's capable of. She's only just starting therapy."

"Let me ask Ptonomy." Amy closes the Vermillion's eyes and reaches out in the mainframe to tap Ptonomy's arm.

"Ptonomy?" Amy calls. When he looks at her, she continues. "What do you think?"

Ptonomy pauses, reviewing her conversation with Cary. "I think having everyone able to hear Divad and Dvd would help David accept them. But he's going to resist having his privacy violated further."

"What about Syd?"

Ptonomy considers. "Let's wait until after Syd's session today. She won't let me hear her thoughts, and I need to figure out if her hearing David's thoughts would help or hurt. I could have Oliver relay her thoughts to me anyway, but-- I don't think Oliver would want to go against her wishes and it would probably backfire. Farouk could use any deception like that against us."

"Right," Amy agrees. "We did tell David he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to today."

"We did," Ptonomy agrees. "And we don't want to violate David's trust either. That's happened enough to him already. But-- It's a good idea and I think it's necessary. Look for a way to make the trade-off acceptable to David."

"I will," Amy says, and she returns her attention to the Vermillion and opens its eyes. "Ptonomy says we need to give them both time. David isn't ready yet and Syd probably isn't either."

"Of course," Cary says. "I suppose Divad and Dvd will have to wait. Ptonomy really does have his hands full. Do you think we should bring in someone else? We did have other specialized therapists in Summerland, we could reach out to them. He doesn't have to do all of this on his own."

"I don't think we can ask them to put their lives at risk," Amy says. "Ptonomy has help. He has us. He's confident that's enough, as long as we all keep helping each other."

"He is in charge of David's therapy," Cary says. "And David is getting better. It feels slow but the work he's already accomplished is enormous. It reminds me of the way Melanie and Oliver used to work together. They were a powerful team, using telepathy and psychotherapy to help people work through all kinds of trauma and mental illnesses. After he was lost to us, Melanie was always looking for someone else with Oliver's abilities. Not just to help search for Oliver, but to help her continue their work. Ptonomy worked with her the longest out of all of them. Memory walking wasn't quite the same as mind reading, but it was also incredibly effective. I'm not sure we'll ever find anyone with that mutation again. I think-- David is so powerful. Melanie wanted him to help stop Division 3 and find Oliver, but she also hoped he would be able to become part of the team at Summerland."

"Do you think he'd be able to?" Amy asks. David is so fragile. She can't imagine him being able to tolerate other people's trauma on a regular basis. He can't even tolerate his own trauma.

"There is no more Summerland," Cary says, sadly. "But-- Maybe one day. Maybe there'll be a place for us again, and maybe David will be well enough to help others."

Amy thinks of the lab and all the work being done there. "I think Summerland is wherever you are," she says, smiling for him. "You and Ptonomy and Kerry and Oliver. I didn’t know Melanie well, but-- I think she would be proud of what you're doing here."

Cary looks positively touched. "What we're doing here," he corrects. "You're a part of our team now, right?"

"I guess I am," Amy says. "Maybe there'll be a place for me in that dream of yours, when this is all over."

"It's not my dream," Cary insists. "It's Oliver's."

"Oliver barely remembers who he is, much less what he wanted decades ago," Amy says. She doesn't know Oliver well but she knows that much. "Maybe it was his at the beginning, but-- You made it yours. So did Melanie, she must have."

Cary's the one with tears in his eyes now. "I hope she did. She was-- She was a lot like Syd. She took care of herself so no one else had to. Or could. That's how we-- We missed it. When he took her."

Amy holds out the Vermillion's arms and hugs Cary. She might not be able to hug the way she wants to in this body, but David didn't mind and Cary doesn't seem to either.

"See?" Amy says, in the same gentle tone she uses with David when he's upset. "We're helping each other. Just like Ptonomy said."

"So we are," Cary says. He pushes up his glasses and wipes his eyes. "Thank you. It's been-- It's been a difficult time for me as well. Kerry helps me, of course. We've always helped each other, but--"

"You're the oldest," Amy says, understanding.

"We're the same age," Cary insists.

"You're still the oldest," Amy says. "Mom was always sick and Dad worked long hours. I had to be the one to take care of David, even when-- Even when he got taller than me. Even now. That's just how it is."

"I suppose that's how it's been for Kerry and I as well," Cary says. "Our parents were-- Unavailable. And Kerry-- She's very strong and brave, she protects me now, but--" He gives a wry smile. "I'm the oldest."

"Little brothers and sisters," Amy sighs. "They're just so much trouble all the time."

Cary chuckles. "That they are. You help me with mine and I'll help you with yours?"

"It's a deal," Amy says.

Chapter 37: Day 8: Anything that heavy makes a great weapon. (Kerry, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Kerry doesn't need a break. She doesn't need to go for a walk, she doesn't need to leave the lab.

"I need to stay here with David," she insists.

"Kerry," Cary sighs. "David will be fine."

Kerry ignores him and keeps staring at David. David's not fine, she can see that, anyone could see that if they just look at him. He had to force himself to eat his breakfast, and Kerry knows when people are forcing themselves to eat. He slept all night but he looks like he didn't sleep at all. He hasn't even noticed her staring at him. He stares at Ptonomy and he stares at the Vermillion with Amy in it, and when he's not doing that he just-- Stares at nothing. Like he's not even there, like the Vermillion when no one's inside it.

They're supposed to be making him better, but he's worse. She knows he's worse. She's been watching him very carefully all week to make sure he doesn't hurt himself, and sometimes he's better but mostly he's worse. She blames the memory work and Amy's part of the memory work. Kerry doesn't like that Amy's going to be around all the time now. Even though she's David's sister and hugging her helps David feel better-- She makes David cry, too. It's been hard enough keeping David alive without someone new coming in and messing things up.

When Kerry helps David, he gets better. She understands him and he listens to her, even if he isn't very good at listening. She holds his hand and hugs him and it doesn't make him upset to do those things the way it does with Syd and Amy. He doesn't have to make himself touch her the way he has to make himself touch them, the way he forced himself to eat. Kerry is nutritious. They're-- They're waffles. David thinks he needs them but they're making him worse.

But they're the ones who are staying in the lab with David and everyone else is supposed to leave.

"Kerry," Cary says, switching from pleading to firm. "We all need to take some time for ourselves. We have to take care of ourselves or we won't be able to take care of David."

Kerry finally looks at Cary. "Is this part of the body stuff?" she asks, suspicious.

"It is," Cary says. "Before, I could rest for you. Now you have to do it."

Kerry sighs. It's been weeks since they were changed and all this body stuff just keeps getting more complicated. But-- She does feel-- Tired. Like-- When she trains too much and her muscles hurt, but-- It's her whole body that's strained. Tense.

“We’ll be back soon,” Cary assures David. “We’re just going to take care of a few things. Syd and Amy will be with you, and if anything happens Ptonomy will know right away.”

Cary's right, as usual. He's always right about body stuff, no matter how much she wishes he wasn't. She stands up, but before they leave she goes to David and hugs him. He startles out of his daze and hugs her back, tentative and then accepting. It's a good, nutritious hug, and she hopes it will be enough to keep him going until she gets back. Cary gives David a hug, too. At least he understands that David needs them, even if they have to leave.

She follows Cary out of the lab and up to their room. She doesn't see what the point of coming here was. She's come back to their room plenty of times this week. She leaves the lab for stuff all the time. She should go back, but--

Cary finishes puttering around their room and gathers up the laundry. He hands her one of the laundry baskets and takes the other. "We'll get these started and then we'll go outside with Ptonomy. Apparently his new body is quite advanced. He says it feels just like the real thing."

"Does that mean he has to eat?" Kerry asks, as they walk into the hall, because that's the first thing she thinks of when it comes to bodies now.

"Well, no," Cary admits. "It's still an android after all. But it's-- aesthetically accurate, in the sense of appearance as well as sense perception. He can feel touch, smell things, see and hear the way he would with his own body."

"He didn't feel anything before?" Kerry hits the button for the elevator. The laundry room is on the fourth floor.

"The Vermillion were never meant to house a human consciousness. They're an interface to gather and convey data and sensor information, to allow the Admiral to interact with the world, but-- Indirectly, autonomously, from dozens of points at once. These new bodies that Ptonomy has and that Amy and Lenny will have, they're designed to embody a single human mind, for their minds specifically. It's the best way they have to be alive in the world again. Ptonomy wants to be in the world, now that he can be. Just like you do."

The elevator arrives. She pushes the button for the fourth floor, then waits as the elevator brings them there. They walk to the laundry room and Cary gives her the detergent to put into the machines. She used to only have a few outfits but now she has more, because she has to change what she's wearing every day. Cary got her more of the ones she already had, but David always wears something different. So does Cary. So does everyone, really. She never really paid attention to that before.

Ptonomy's new body has a suit. Ptonomy's always worn a lot of fancy clothes, all of them really different. She did notice that, it was impossible not to notice that. Maybe Ptonomy can help her figure out what to wear. She hasn't really talked to Ptonomy much. It would probably be weird to ask him, and he's really busy helping David, but--

"Kerry?" Cary asks. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," Kerry says. She takes the laundry basket from him and fills up the machine. "Clothes, I guess." She hesitates. "People wear a lot of them."

"We do," Cary says. He closes a machine and starts the program. Water rushes into the machine and fills it up. "Would you like to go to a clothing store when we go outside? I'm sure Ptonomy would enjoy that."

Kerry shrugs. "I guess." If she has to do all of this body stuff, at least this way she can get a lot of it done at once.

§

Ptonomy stands on the sidewalk and feels the sun on his skin. He listens to the sounds of passing cars, of people walking and talking. There are pigeons pecking at the cracks in the sidewalk, looking for crumbs of dropped food. He never really appreciated pigeons until this very moment. He thought of them as rats with wings, but they're actually beautiful, their feathers iridescent like butterflies.

And he's not even going to remember it, not the way he used to. His perfect memory died along with his body. A few weeks ago, he was trapped in a maze where he dreamed of eternal forgetfulness. He didn't actually remember it, but he looked at Cary's memory of it and remembers it through that. In Cary's memory, he looks perfectly at peace.

The reality is-- Disconcerting. He's able to use the mainframe's memory to record the memories he doesn't want to lose, but he has to make the effort. He has to remember to remember, where before it took no effort at all to remember everything.

His new memory isn't bad, it's normal. It's what everyone else has. For all his pride in his powers, for all their usefulness, there was always a part of him that wanted them gone, that sought relief. That's why the monk's virus made him forget everything but the singular moment of now. But it took dying to make Ptonomy appreciate his now, to see it as more than an illusion. Now wasn't real, it was the way his brain masked the millionths of a second it took to process what he was seeing into information his body could react to. Now was just the way he got the past into his memories with his powers, and he lived in that past.

His new brain is a lot different from his old one. He's still in the mainframe, but he's here, too, standing on the sidewalk, feeling the sun on his skin. That's an illusion, too. Life is an illusion, as far as he can tell, being neither dead nor alive but still experiencing life. If he ever does get back into an organic body, he wonders if it will even fit him anymore, all that flesh and blood and bone.

He closes his eyes. From inside the mainframe, he looks at the video feed of the lab. Syd is making tea. Amy's trying to engage David in conversation, but David can't muster much of a response. Amy was right, David's still working hard just to stay present. The mental and emotional strain that compels him to go away must be enormous, and staying means he can't hide until it passes. They might not be saving any time by keeping him with them, but more dissociation isn't what David needs. Even if he isn't up to much interaction, just being with Amy and Syd will be good for him and help him feel comfortable with them again. Their relationships with him are vital, and healing them is vital to his recovery.

"Ptonomy!"

Ptonomy opens his eyes to see Cary and Kerry approaching. He smiles, enjoying the experience of smiling, and walks forward to meet them.

"It's a lovely day," Ptonomy says.

Cary squints at the sky. "It's quite sunny. Did you have anything particular in mind for our morning?"

"Not really," Ptonomy admits. Despite what he said to David about being part of the world from anywhere, Ptonomy really needed to get out of Division 3. Now that he has a body, he needed some part of himself to be physically outside, even if his mind is still as trapped as ever. He hopes that the lunch they have planned for later will help David in the same way. An afternoon in the garden with his friends should be very beneficial. Hopefully it will be beneficial enough for David's therapy to resume tomorrow. They still have a long way to go.

"Perhaps we could go shopping," Cary suggests. "Kerry would like some new clothes."

"Is that right?" Ptonomy asks.

Kerry shrugs. "It's body stuff," she says, like that explains everything. Then she meets his eyes, uncertain yet assertive. "You're the clothes guy. Or-- Are you still the clothes guy?"

"I am," Ptonomy says, glad that he can say that. The first thing he did when he got his new body was go back to his room and try on half his wardrobe trying to find the right outfit to celebrate in. Today is definitely a day for celebration. He chose something bright and colorful, a contrast to the mourning black of the mainframe. "Do you have something in mind?"

Kerry shrugs again. "Cary always got me new clothes for my birthday. That was fine, but--" She trails off, uncomfortable.

"It's not enough anymore," Ptonomy says, understanding. "Choosing what you like, figuring out how you want to present yourself, that's a lot."

Kerry frowns. "Present myself?"

"Fashion's about a lot of things," Ptonomy explains, feeling very much in his element. "There's comfort, wearing what feels good on your body. There's your personal style and how that represents who you feel you are. There's trends, which can be good or bad."

"I just need to be able to kick ass," Kerry says.

"Then that's part of your style," Ptonomy says. "I like my suits tight, but not so tight I can't run. We like chasing people, right?"

Kerry can't resist smiling at that. "We like catching people."

"Then how about we chase some fashion?" Ptonomy says. "Don't worry about catching anything yet. Just see what you like. See what draws your eye."

Kerry looks to Cary, then some tension in her relaxes and she looks resolved.

§

There's way too many clothes in this store.

Kerry thought there would be, like, a couple dozen outfits she could choose from. Like her closet except bigger. But this is a whole building full of clothes, and they're all awful and ugly and they don't even fit right. What if this means she'll never be able to find her style? What if she has to wear the same clothes forever?

"I came as fast as I could." That's Amy's voice coming through the bathroom door. What's she doing here?

"You're supposed to be with David," Kerry says, angrily, even though she didn't want Amy to be with David in the first place.

"David's taking a nap," Ptonomy's voice assures her. "Syd's with him, she'll make sure he's all right."

Kerry very much doubts that. She knew she should have stayed in the lab. She knew this whole fashion thing was a bad idea. Everything is a bad idea.

Her life used to be so simple. She stayed inside of Cary except when she didn't. She went outside of him for training and fighting so she could save mutants who needed help, so she could protect them like she protected Cary, but otherwise she stayed inside. If she was tired, if she got hurt, if anything else was wrong at all, she went inside of Cary and he took care of everything. He's the one who ate and slept and went on errands and picked out clothes and taught her things and took her wounds away and healed them. And now it's like-- It's like he's already dead, even though he's standing on the other side of the locked bathroom door worrying about her. It's like Farouk killed him when he changed them because he was so much of her and now she has to be herself without him.

She doesn't know who she is without him. She's been trying so hard to figure it all out, to be brave and independent and eat things and choose things and understand things, but the world is too much for her. It's too confusing and there's too many choices and it's like the cafeteria except a billion times worse and even the guides are confusing.

She just wants to go back inside him. It's not fair that she can't go back inside him. She thought she could be more than just a passenger, but she can't. It's too much.

She hears them talking on the other side of the door, and then someone puts a key into the lock. Kerry grabs the handle and holds the door firmly shut.

"Kerry," Cary sighs. "Please open the door."

"Go away!" Kerry shouts. She doesn't want Cary to go away, she wants to be inside him, but she can't be inside him ever again and seeing him just reminds her of that. So she doesn't want to see him, she doesn't want to see Ptonomy, she doesn't want to see the Vermillion and she certainly doesn't want to talk to Amy.

"She won't listen to me," Cary says to someone. "We picked out some clothes, she tried them on, and-- She got very upset. She wouldn't say why. I think she's just-- Overwhelmed, by all of this."

"I'll see what I can do," Amy says. "I think you and Ptonomy should go. Let me talk to her alone."

"I don't know," Cary says, sounding unconvinced.

"If she's overwhelmed, she needs some space," Amy says. "That's how it was for David. Just give her some space, okay?"

Cary sighs. "We'll be-- There's some chairs by the changing room."

Kerry listens. She hears the sound of Cary and Ptonomy walking away. Then she hears the key being pulled out of the lock. She tenses but the handle doesn't turn.

"You can lock it now," Amy says.

Kerry locks it. She sits back against the door, determined to keep everyone out. She hears movement through the door, and it sounds like Amy is sitting down on the other side.

"Hey," Amy says, her voice at Kerry's level. "No one's going to come in, okay? I won't let them. I've got the key so no one will try to come in."

Kerry doesn't respond to that. It's stupid. It's not like Amy is strong enough to stop anyone from getting in, even in a Vermillion. She's not a mutant, she's not even alive. She can barely move around. And so what if she has the key? Not having a key never stopped anyone. Kerry saw an axe in the wall with the fire extinguisher outside the bathroom. Someone could grab the axe and break the door down. She should have grabbed the axe before she locked herself into the bathroom. And the fire extinguisher. Anything that heavy makes a great weapon.

"Cary said you were trying to find something new to wear," Amy says. "Did you see anything you liked?"

"No," Kerry insists. "It's all ugly and stupid."

Amy chuckles. "Clothes shopping can feel that way sometimes. It's hard to find what we like. It's even harder to find something we like that fits us."

Kerry's clothes always fit perfectly. The ones Cary gets her does, anyway. They fit perfectly and she can run and fight in them and she looks badass in them. But none of these clothes are like that. They're not meant for her and that makes her feel--

It makes her feel like running away and locking herself in a bathroom.

"David didn't like clothes shopping either," Amy says.

"David has lots of clothes," Kerry insists. He wears different things all the time and he enjoys it. Of course he likes buying clothes.

"He does now, but not when he was young," Amy says. "He had a lot of trouble going anywhere when he was young. Places like this, with a lot of people and-- They were very hard for him. He locked himself in bathrooms, too."

"No he didn't," Kerry insists. There's no way David ever locked himself in a bathroom over clothes. He wants to kill himself all the time but not because he's scared of clothes. He loves those fashion magazines. He likes all that stuff, just like Ptonomy does, even if David's clothes aren't nearly as nice as Ptonomy's.

"He really did," Amy says. "David was-- He was so scared all the time. And I didn't know why. I didn't--" She stops talking, and then it sounds like she's crying. "I'm sorry," she says, but she keeps crying, soft and tight sobs that remind Kerry of how Cary would cry when he was young and afraid but didn't want anyone to hear him. When he was the physical age that Kerry is now, when they were forced to stay in the hospital and take all those drugs. Kerry hid for a lot of those years, and here she is, hiding again.

She's hiding again. Cary's probably sad, too, even though he doesn't cry much anymore.

If David was scared when he was young-- They know why David was scared and it wasn't clothes. Amy didn't know then. She should have known, she was his sister. She should have known what was wrong with him.

But even though they were brother and sister-- They didn't share a body. David couldn't hide inside of Amy, he was the one with other people hiding inside of him. So he had to be strong for them the way Cary had to be strong for her, even when he was afraid. And now Kerry's the outside one and she has to be strong for Cary. But instead she's the one who's upsetting him, like David upset Amy.

It's very-- Complicated. All this hiding and helping and who's supposed to help who. It's not simple the way it used to be. For a long time, she didn't even protect Cary. She just hid and let him do everything for her. That was just how they worked. But they don't work that way anymore and-- Now she has to do all these things for herself and go places and talk to other people. She has to help David and let other people help him. And now Amy is trying to help her but instead she's crying on the other side of the door. Amy's not even somewhere safe. It's bad enough crying, it's worse to cry where other people can see you.

"Amy," Kerry says, uncertain. "Do you-- Want to come in? You can cry in here if you want."

Amy cries a bit more. "Okay," she says.

Kerry stands up and opens the door. The Vermillion isn't crying, it doesn't make tears, but Amy sounds like she's crying. The Vermillion gets up from the floor and comes inside. Kerry closes the door and locks it. She watches the Vermillion not crying. It's almost like-- The Vermillion is like Cary, and Amy is like Kerry. The way they were. One person inside of another, even if the Vermillion isn't actually a person.

"It wasn't your fault," Kerry decides. "Not knowing about David. I didn't tell Cary a lot of things, but-- I knew he wanted to protect me. I knew he loved me."

"Of course you did," Amy says, tearfully.

"But Cary was already--" Kerry feels upset again and she doesn't want to cry anymore. But she has all these feelings that need to come out of her. Like she needed to come out of Cary. Like Divad and Dvd need to come out of David. None of them can hide anymore. "He says-- I was always there for him. But that's a lie. I let him-- I hid and-- Bad things happened to him because I didn't want them to happen to me."

"Oh Kerry," Amy says, kindly. "You were afraid. You must have been so young."

"I would have been older," Kerry admits. "If I'd come out with him from the start, we'd be the same age. We are, but-- We're not. Because I hid. So it's not-- It's not your fault, about David. It's not Cary's fault about me. So neither of you should cry."

The Vermillion awkwardly smiles. "It's okay for all of us to cry," Amy says. "When things are scary and sad, even when we're supposed to protect someone we care about. It doesn't have to be one or the other. It can be-- Good, to cry together. If you don't want Cary to feel alone."

"Cary doesn't cry much anymore," Kerry says, but-- Amy cries a lot. And Amy's like Cary. She-- Kerry's been watching Amy closely and Amy tried not to cry in front of David over breakfast. But she's crying now, in front of Kerry.

"You can cry with me, I guess," Kerry decides. "You can-- You can hug me, if that helps. Hugs always help--"

Kerry doesn't even get to finish the sentence before the Vermillion pulls her into a hug. The android isn't soft, it's hard and kinda awkward, but-- Kerry can tell how much Amy means the hug. She can feel the hug that Amy's trying to give from inside the Vermillion.

Amy can't be all bad if she gives hugs the way Cary gives hugs. Maybe she's not so waffley after all. Maybe she'll be nutritious once they get the syrup off of her.

The Vermillion lets her go. "Thank you," Amy says, sounding better. She's stopped crying, and Kerry doesn't want to cry anymore either. "I'm so glad you're David's friend. And I'd like to be your friend, too, if that's okay."

Kerry shrugs. "Yeah, I guess so." She still doesn't like the Vermillion, but soon Amy will be out of the Vermillion and in a body that actually looks like her. It'll probably be easier to like Amy then. It's a lot easier to have Ptonomy back, even though he's still dead, too.

"I could help you look for some nice clothes," Amy offers.

"I'm kinda done with clothes," Kerry says. "I just-- Wanna go back. We shouldn't leave David alone with Syd. She's waffles."

The Vermillion gives a confused blink. "She's waffles?"

Kerry nods. "David thinks he needs her, but she's bad for him."

"That's--" Amy says, but she stops. "Okay. Ptonomy and Cary are coming now. We'll go back. I'm sure everything will be fine."

§

"Everything's fine," Ptonomy assures Kerry, as they walk out onto the street. "I'm watching them now. David's still asleep. Syd's sitting with him. Everything's just fine."

Kerry continues to be unconvinced. Ptonomy continues to be impressed by her intuition. For someone who spent her whole life hiding, she has a sharp eye for behavior when she actually lets herself engage with her environment.

The truth is, Syd is a problem. That's why Ptonomy left her and Amy there together. Either one alone would be stressful for David, but put them together and they balance out. But they needed to pull Amy away to help Kerry, so now Syd is alone with David. Thankfully David's still asleep. Syd can't do any more damage while David's asleep. Unless she decides to practice touching him again. For someone who prides herself so much on her personal space, Syd has no respect for David's. But Syd's treatment of David is something he's been planning to talk to her about today anyway. He just needs the right opportunity to pull her away so they can have her session without David overhearing.

They all need to be open and truthful with each other to protect themselves against Farouk's inevitable mind games. But the truth can be as destructive as lies, if it's not handled right. David is in no way ready to face the truth about his relationship with Syd, not when he has so many other things that take priority for his recovery. Syd's barely ready to face the truth herself, but her denial has to end if she doesn't want to keep making the same mistakes. If she doesn't want to help end the world.

When they reach the compound, David is still asleep. Syd is sketching in David's notebook. She didn't ask permission before she did that, either. That notebook is essential to David's recovery and the rebuilding of his identity, but she thinks she can just write all over it. She thinks she has the right to do a lot of things.

Ptonomy has been very tempted to make her leave. But David loves and needs her, and she loves and needs him. Forcing her to leave would make David worse and it would make Syd even more vulnerable to Farouk. Better to have her inside the tent pissing out than outside pissing in, as his dad used to say.

They all head to the laundry room so Kerry and Cary can move their laundry to the dryers. Amy helps, continuing to bond with Kerry. He's glad. Amy and David, Kerry and Cary-- They have strong sibling bonds, but they've each been isolated despite that. Now all four of them are connecting with each other. They're all very compatible people, compassionate protectors at heart. They'll be good for each other and good for David, especially together.

Ptonomy watches from inside the mainframe as David wakes up from his nap. He stills again as Syd finishes drawing him. David asks about Amy and Syd's first therapy session and mentions the alters are asleep nearby. Ptonomy tenses as Syd starts talking about the session, and David tries to get her to stop, but--

"We'd better get back," Ptonomy says. But as he walks out of the laundry room, he knows it's already too late. He sighs in frustration. Syd, all you had to do was let him rest, he thinks, angrily, as he watches the disaster unfold. He wonders if there's a version of his dad's military aphorism about people being inside the tent and pissing in it anyway. If not, Syd is inventing it right before Ptonomy's digital eyes.

Chapter 38: Day 8: I’m drawing you. I'm almost done. (David)

Chapter Text

The past week has been the most intense therapy of David’s life. It’s only now that everything has stopped that he can see it, that he can see how hard they’ve been driving him at every turn. Not just the sessions and the memory work, but every moment of his time that wasn’t spent sleeping or catching his breath, someone has come at him with something to push him forward. It’s been everything at once for days: the things he’s done and the things done to him, his diseases and his alters, his memories of the past and the people with him now, all to prevent a future he doesn't know how to avoid.

He can’t think about any of it anymore. There’s nothing left in him to do any work, to talk about anything. He barely had enough energy to get through breakfast.

Everyone else has to catch their breath, too. Helping him, worrying over him, it’s all taken a toll on them, he can see that despite his exhaustion. He still feels like they’re hurting themselves for nothing, but— It’s what they want to do. They believe he can be saved, that he’s worth saving, that he’s somehow worth all of this. He can’t, but— He can let them believe for him.

He’s the only one who can’t leave, but they’ve all been keeping close, cooped up in the lab with him. So of course now that they don’t need to stay to help him, they all want to leave.

"We’ll be back soon," Cary assures David, and assures Kerry, who refused to leave until Cary talked her into it. "We’re just going to take care of a few things. Syd and Amy will be with you, and if anything happens Ptonomy will know right away."

Kerry and Cary hug him, and then they're gone. He can feel the memory of their embraces even after they're gone.

Ptonomy‘s not the only one who will know if anything happens. Division 3 is always watching. But these days that’s equal parts reassuring and disturbing. Clark might not be David’s favorite person, but— He didn’t have to say what he did about David’s birth parents. He didn’t have to bring the lamp himself. Kerry’s right, Clark is a jerk, but— He’s a jerk with a heart.

David tries not to care about Clark too much. He doesn’t want him to be tortured for the rest of his life. He doesn’t want Clark and his family to suffer because of him. That probably means they will. Farouk is always watching, too, always listening so he can savor David’s pain and figure out the best way to make more of it. That voracious appetite has to be fed.

David’s too tired to care about the monster or even to be scared. There’s barely anything left of him anyway. If Farouk tried anything now, the last wisps of air from that popped balloon would just vanish, dissipating into nothing. And what would be the fun in that? If Farouk wanted that, he could have just let David kill himself to begin with.

Farouk doesn't want him to die. David thought he did, he went to the desert thinking that, but— Farouk has never wanted him to die.

David doesn't want to think about the monster. He thinks about Oliver. Oliver is still asleep, astral projecting to search for Melanie. That's how he's spending his day off from David's therapy. David's tempted to do the same himself. Not to search for Melanie, though he'd help if he could. But just to be outside of his body, to get relief from living. It wouldn't be like before, the last thing he wants is to go away again. He could— He could spend time with his alters. They're playing cards again, he could play cards with them.

But—

Amy and Syd are sitting on the sofa, talking to each other while Syd drinks tea. They stayed to keep him company and he doesn’t want to leave them. He spent so much time running away from them, from everything, from himself. Dissociating. He needs to be present. He needs to stay.

But staying is about all he can do. He doesn’t have it in him to talk, after spending days talking about everything. He’s too well-rested to nap but too mentally fried to concentrate. He’s bored but doesn’t have the energy to attempt anything interesting.

He wanders around the lab, aimless, and spots Kerry’s magazines. He feels a pathetic thrill as he flips through the stack. It was always a Clockworks highlight when new issues arrived. He takes the ones about fashion and beauty, including the one he did the crossword for. He doesn’t have the brain power for puzzles. He sinks into one of the beanbag chairs, feeling pleasantly unable to escape the chair’s deep embrace, and opens the first magazine. The pages are fragrant from the perfume samples. The bright colors and stylish photos are the perfect combination of stimulating and soothing. He reads contentedly, his mind soaking in a warm bath of frivolity.

He missed this, he truly missed it. It’s one of the purest, simplest joys of his entire life. He could do this forever.

He zones out and wakes up sometime later, one magazine spread across his chest and the others fallen to the floor. The sun has moved higher and Amy isn’t on the sofa anymore. Syd is still there, and she’s writing in his notebook.

He feels slightly less mentally fried. Maybe he did need a nap after all. Or maybe it was the magazine.

He rubs his face, bleary, and Syd looks at him.

"Hey," she says, and stops writing. "You moved."

"I moved?" David echoes.

"You’re not supposed to move. Close your eyes."

David musters a curious look, but closes his eyes. He lies still for a while, his head cradled by the beanbag. Then he opens one eye. "Why am I not supposed to move?"

Syd is focused on the notebook. "I’m drawing you. I'm almost done."

Syd used to draw him in Clockworks. He would sit and she would sketch. He would let his mind drift to the sound of her pencil scratching against the page.

He closes his eye.

The lab is quiet and his mind is quieter. His mind is so quiet: no powers, no voices, he doesn’t even hear his alters. It’s awe-inspiringly quiet. He tries not to think about anything so he doesn’t disturb it. He listens to the sound of Syd’s pencil and it’s just as soothing as it always was.

He’s almost drifted off again when the scratching stops.

"Done," Syd declares. "Wanna see?"

David opens his eyes. Syd leans forward and put the notebook down on the the coffee table. David picks the magazine from his chest, stretches, then swaps the magazine for the notebook.

Syd’s very good, as always. She’s captured him in detail: He’s slumped in the beanbag, dozing, the crown on his head and the magazine across his front. His face is— tired, vulnerable. He looks like he needs a dozen more naps. Is that what he looks like? It must be. Syd always saw him clearer than he saw himself.

"It’s very good," David compliments. "Where’s Amy?"

"With the others. They’ll be back soon. We’re having lunch in the garden."

A picnic. That sounds— Really nice.

He looks around and is surprised to see his alters asleep, each curled up on a loveseat. It's— Strange, seeing them sleep. Seeing himself sleep. They look— tired, vulnerable. Like they need a dozen more naps.

He doesn't want to wake them. He needs to keep his thoughts quiet, calm. They've— They've been working hard to help him, too. To protect him when he couldn't protect himself. To remember the things he can't and shouldn't ever remember. They were right about that. They do know what's best for him after all. At least he's finally realized that.

He can't think about himself. He should talk to Syd. What should he talk about? She had therapy yesterday, or she was supposed to.

"Did you ever have your therapy session?" David asks her, keeping his voice quiet so he doesn't disturb Divad or Dvd.

"Why are you whispering?" Syd asks, matching his level.

David points to the loveseats. "They're asleep. My, uh, my alters."

Syd looks, but she can't see anything but empty furniture. "Should we move?"

David considers this. They're his hallucinations, so— "Probably not?" he whispers. Whatever he can hear, they can hear. He still doesn't understand how his brain can be three separate people at once, but also all himself. But that's too confusing for him to figure out even when his brain is working, which it's currently not. Or at least his part of his brain isn't working.

It's really confusing.

David must be thinking too hard, because Divad stirs. David stops thinking and Divad settles again.

"Um, it went well," Syd says, when David is quiet for too long. "My session. We figured out a lot about— About Future Syd. Why she did what she did to you."

"You did?" David asks. He couldn't figure it out, but— If anyone could do it, it would be Syd. "So why did she—"

Syd grimaces. "You don't want to know. And you shouldn't think about that. Not today. But— Your alters helped me, so you wouldn't have to."

"Helped you?"

Syd taps her forehead. "Oliver put in a— A telepathic antenna. So he could send your relay to me. Only for the session, don't worry. I can't hear anything now. Well, even if Oliver was awake, I still wouldn't hear anything."

David doesn't know how he feels about any of that. If he thinks about it he'll wake up his alters, so he can't think about it. They need to rest, like he needs to rest. They all need a dozen more naps and no shocks.

David looks down at the sketch of himself. Of course his alters look just like him, but— It's like Syd drew them, too, apart from the crown and the magazine. It's like she drew all of them at once.

"David?" Syd prompts, concerned.

"It's—" David stops, tries again. "Can we— Not talk about this right now?" They have to, of course they have to, but he can't talk about this right now.

"Okay," Syd soothes. "Do you want to talk about something else?"

He shakes his head. He needs Amy. He needs Kerry. He needs Syd, but— He can't think about Syd, not without thinking about what she just told him. "When is everyone coming back?" he asks.

Divad and Dvd both wake up. Damn it.

"David?" Divad asks, concerned.

"It's under control," David says, and it is. He's calm. He's not thinking about upsetting things. He just— Wishes the others were back.

"I'm sorry," Syd says. "We didn't want to put you through that. It's my therapy, not yours."

"But they are me," David insists. He was asleep and they did things to him, again.

"All we did was talk to Syd," Divad says, reasonably. "She's the one who let her head be changed by Oliver. All we did was let you rest. You needed to rest, like you need to rest now. Stop stressing yourself out."

"Stop telling him not to feel things," Dvd defends. "You're supposed to help him stay calm, not erase him."

"Oh, don't you start with that, too," Divad says, annoyed. Then he calms himself. "We're not arguing about this. Not today."

Dvd slumps back in his loveseat, displeased.

"I guess they're awake?" Syd asks.

"Yeah," David says, pressing his fingers to his face. "Syd?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think one day off is gonna be enough."

Syd tilts her head sympathetically. "We'll get you through this, okay? We're all gonna get through this together."

When he doesn't respond, she looks thoughtfully at him, then comes over and sits down in the other beanbag chair. She sinks down into it, mirroring him. And then she holds out her hand.

David looks at it, uncertain.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," Syd says, genuinely. "I'm sorry I— I didn't ask you. We should have asked you."

He shouldn't take her hand. He shouldn't hold it. He's the one who hurt her, who did things to her, unforgivable things. But— Yesterday, she held his hand. She looked at him and took his hand and didn't let go. He doesn't even remember letting go. His hand still aches from holding on to her, to Amy, to all of them.

He doesn't deserve her forgiveness. She shouldn't be kind to him. She should hate him so much.

"Please?" Syd asks, reaching out. "For me?"

She wants him to take her hand. He can't refuse her, he never could. But he doesn't deserve to hold her hand. But she wants him to. But he shouldn't.

But he— But he needs her. He needs her like he needs Amy and Kerry and— He needs her.

He shouldn't. He doesn't deserve her. But— She already held his hand. She already touched him, she— She's touched him a lot. But she did it for him, so he could have— So he wouldn't be— Touch starved. So he could feel— Safe. Nurtured.

She just wants— She just wants to keep him safe. She just wants him to get better. It's— It's part of his treatment. So he'll get better. If he refuses his treatment, he's just— Punishing himself. Hurting himself. And if he hurts himself, he'll never get better.

She wants him to get better. He wants that, too. So he just has to— He just has to reach out and—

He takes her hand. He takes it and she holds him and— It's okay. He's okay. Nothing terrible happens. He's just— holding her hand, like he held Amy's and Kerry's and— Like he held Syd's hand before.

It’s what he always wanted for them: to sit together and hold hands. There’s no ‘them’ anymore, they’re just— Two separate people. Patients in therapy. "It's like we're therapy buddies," he says, because she can’t read his mind. Because Oliver's asleep. Because he doesn't want her to. So many people are listening to his thoughts all the time and he just needs something for himself, some tiny corner of his mind for himself. Even if that corner is in someone else's mind.

Syd smiles. She keeps holding his hand. "What's a therapy buddy?"

David tightens his hold on her hand. "It was— I don't know if it was real, but— When I started therapy, when I was diagnosed as— I was pretty young. So they matched me up with another kid with schizophrenia, seeing the same therapist. To help me— Open up. Feel— Less alone. Like group therapy, but— A very small group."

"Did it help?" Syd asks.

"Obviously not," David says. "But that wasn't his fault. Nothing helped. I had a monster in my head making sure nothing would ever help."

"You did," Syd says, calmly. "But now the monster isn't in your head. So the things that could've helped, they can help now. Like having a therapy buddy."

He loosens his hold, but she doesn't. She holds on to him.

"So what did you do with your therapy buddy?" she asks. "How does it work?"

"Um. We were supposed to talk to each other. Share our problems. Find, uh— The things that matched. I wasn't very— Talkative. I remember being so— Angry, all the time. I don't even know why." He doesn't know if any of that was real, but he felt angry all the time for years. Even after college, he just felt so angry, no matter what he took, no matter how hard he tried to be calm. It only stopped when he tried to kill himself. It was like— He killed the anger instead of himself. Or maybe it was just the numbness of the aftermath, and then he spent six years so drugged he could barely feel anything at all. But the anger didn't come back when he got off the meds. Maybe by then the drugs had killed that part of him for good.

He tries not to think that they should have doubled his dose, tripled it. They should have—

"I'd like that," Syd says, smiling for him, oblivious to the awfulness in his head, the way she should be. "We can help each other. Talk to each other. Hold hands."

She shouldn't hold his hand. God, she shouldn't. But she is and— He doesn't want to let go. He doesn't want her to let go.

"Okay," David says, holding tight again.

He doesn't say anything else. He can't, and she— She just stays with him, quiet and calm. He always liked that about her, her calm, her solid steadiness. After Clockworks, when everything was chaos and madness, she was the one thing he could rely on, the one person he could turn to. Until she was two people and both of them—

"I'm sorry," Syd says, out of nowhere. "I know you're not ready to talk about Future Syd, but— I'm sorry for what she did to you. What I did to you."

David glances over at Oliver, but Oliver is still asleep. But then Syd never had much trouble figuring him out even without telepathy.

"You didn't—" David starts, but she did. He can't— He can't deny that she did.

"She was me," Syd insists. "She had her reasons, but— She was still wrong, to do all of that to you. I was wrong. I want to apologize to you for what she did. What I did. And— I'm sorry for what I did when you came back."

"You don't have to—"

"I do," Syd insists. "You were taken against your will, again. And I— I blamed you. I put that on you when you were scared and that made you feel like— Like if it happened again, if you were taken again, I wouldn't find you. That's why— That's why you made this for me." She grips the locket she's still wearing, despite everything.

It takes a moment for David to register all of that. "I didn't—" he lies, automatic, defensive. He'd told her Cary made the compass. "How did you know I—"

Divad and Dvd suddenly look away.

"They told you," David realizes. This is why he would never have agreed to let them talk to Syd. He can't— They're him but they're not him and he can't control them, he can't stop himself from saying things he shouldn't say. They know everything about him, even things he doesn't know, and he can't stop them from telling everyone everything.

He can't stop them anyway, not from talking to the mainframe. But he doesn't want them to talk to anyone else. He doesn't want that.

"That's not fair," Dvd says, angrily. "We've always shared everything, that's how we work."

"Don't," Divad warns.

"No, he needs to hear this," Dvd says. "David, do you think we're happy, trapped like this? We spent years trapped because Farouk wouldn't let us reach you. And now you can hear us, but you're doing just what he did. You won't let us share our body, and fine, I get that. He fucked you over and he knew, that shit beetle knew that if we ever got you back, you'd never let us be together, not like we were. All he ever did was try to tear us apart and he couldn't, but— But you are!"

"Dvd, stop," Divad warns again.

"Shut up," Dvd says, showing his teeth. "I've been there for you every single moment since you made us. No matter what. That's what I'm for. That used to mean something to you. But he took that away and now you don't even want to remember what we had. You don't want to be our David again. You don't want to be anything. Do you have any idea what it does to us every time you think about killing yourself? Do you even care that you'd be killing us, too? No, you don't, because you still won't accept that we're as real as you, that we're all real." He stands up, distraught and furious. "Amy called us brothers. I want that. But you know what? I can't do this anymore. You don't need me and I can't do this. I'm out."

And then he's gone.

"Dvd!" Divad shouts. "Dvd!" He groans in frustration. "I'll talk to him." And then he's gone, too.

"David?" Syd asks, cautious. "What just happened?"

David stares at the empty loveseats. "They're gone."

"What do you mean? They're invisible?"

"No, they're— They're gone." David can't feel them anymore. They're just— Not there. He's alone.

That's what he wanted, wasn't it? To be alone in his own head? He should be happy, but happy is the last thing he feels.

"They can't be gone, they're permanent," Syd says.

David shakes his head. "Dvd said— He said I didn't need him so— He left. And Divad went after him, but—"

This is his fault. Dvd's right, of course he's right. David's so fucking selfish he didn't even think about the fact that killing himself would mean killing the two other people in his head. The people who protected him since he was a child. The people who— Who he created to save himself, and in doing so trapped them with the monster, trapped them with the monster he is now.

They shouldn't come back. Wherever they went, they shouldn't come back. They can't save him and it's only hurting them to try.

"David," Syd says, and she's in front of him now, worried. She's holding his hand in both of hers, but he's not holding her back. "Stay with me, okay?"

David shakes his head. He's not going away. He deserves to feel this. It's his fault. He's crying, but he shouldn't cry, not when it's his fault.

Chapter 39: Day 8: It's all completely fucked and nothing's ever gonna un-fuck it. (Syd, Dvd, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Some therapy buddy she makes.

Syd watches David sit slumped over the picnic table and tries not to blame herself. Kerry and Amy are sitting with him, keeping him company and trying to cheer him up and encouraging him to eat. But this is bad.

"You can't blame yourself because they left," Ptonomy says, even though he can't read her mind. "David's whole situation is precarious. Even an apology has the potential to wreak havoc, but that doesn't mean the apology shouldn't have been given. It's my fault. I started the group therapy for them to avoid this, but we got distracted by the memory work."

"This would be a lot easier to fix if we had Oliver back," Cary says, regretful. "We shouldn't have given him the day off."

"He'll come back," Ptonomy says, confident. "He wants to be here to help David because of Melanie. When he can't find her, he'll come back."

"What if he gets lost again?" Cary asks. "We've just lost both our methods of knowing David's thoughts. This won't work without telepathy, not at the speed we need to go."

"I keep telling you, this isn't a race," Ptonomy says. "It's therapy. It goes however fast it goes. David has thirty years of intense trauma and broken relationships, not to mention the extensive amnesia and false memories. None of that is going to heal overnight. We're making good progress but it hasn't been easy and it's not going to be easy with or without telepathy."

"It's going to be even worse if Divad doesn't come back," Syd says. "He's David's emotional regulation."

"Dvd's the one we need to worry about," Ptonomy says. "Oliver and Divad will both come back on their own. Dvd— I wish we knew what he said, but— I think we've heard enough hints. He has good reasons to be angry and upset. I'd talk to him, but we won't have any way to reach him until tomorrow morning."

"Where did they go, anyway?" Syd asks. "How can they be gone?"

"It's quite normal for alters to vanish," Cary says. "It's similar to how Kerry and I can disappear inside each other, but— More like a deep form of dissociation. When I went inside of Kerry for the first time, I was— I saw myself back in our childhood home. David must have something similar. It's typically known as an inner world or a headspace."

"Maybe you really do have DID," Syd says, wondering. Kerry's hiding, Cary's distraction and his strong focus on his work to the exclusion of other parts of his life— Syd's learned enough about dissociation to recognize those as dissociative behaviors. And their childhood was traumatic, even if the apparent reason for the trauma was a result of their powers. Maybe their dissociative split was in the womb.

"It's quite possible," Cary admits. "I meant what I said to David. Our situations are very much the same, even if the details are different. Kerry manifested externally, or perhaps I did. David's alters are only internal, at least at this point."

"All of which is interesting, but how does it help us resolve this?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't think we can," Syd says. "We just have to hope Divad can convince Dvd to come back."

"And we need to make sure David doesn't get any more upset until Divad comes back," Cary adds.

"Nobody make any sudden apologies," Syd mutters.

"I think—" Ptonomy starts. "I need to do some more research."

"On what?" Syd asks.

"On David and what’s wrong with him."

"There’s something else?" Syd asks, horrified.

"Not something new, exactly," Ptonomy says. "I have access to a lot of current psychological information through the mainframe. I’ve been focused on David and his history, but— I need to look around, see what’s helped others with his symptoms. The truth is, when this started we had an incomplete picture of David’s trauma. We still do. But David’s hitting a lot of roadblocks, more than I hoped he would. There’s something deeper here, even deeper than his dissociation. I’ll be busy for a while figuring that out. I’ll leave my body sleeping in the lab, if that’s all right."

"Of course," Cary says.

Syd watches Ptonomy go. That’s four of David’s helpers gone and four remaining. "So much for a day off," she sighs.

"David’s had setbacks before," Cary assures her. "He’ll be okay."

"It just feels like he’s getting worse, not better. And he was already—"

"Sometimes that’s how it goes," Cary says. "Sometimes getting better means getting worse, at least for a while. If healing was easy, there wouldn’t be so many people in pain."

Syd knows that, she does. But she can’t help but be afraid. She just wants her David back, but every time she thinks he’s close, he slips further away. She wants to save him from his pain, but everything they do seems to push him deeper into it. David is so fractured and now his identities are tearing apart. Can he even survive that? What would happen to all his dissociated feelings if Dvd never comes back?

"Cary, can you— Is there a way for me to look at those mainframe resources?"

"I don’t have access to that, but you could ask Clark," Cary suggests. "The mainframe is a sensitive resource, but maybe the Admiral can set you up with the psychology databases Ptonomy is using."

"I think I need them," Syd admits. Her book was a start, but the truth is that she doesn’t know anywhere near enough to help the way she wants to. She didn’t even finish college. She’s always been a fast learner and her mother taught her a lot, but— The truth is that she was a mental patient, not a therapist. She worked with Melanie in a political position, not a therapeutic one. This isn’t a situation she can feel her way through. David’s life is at stake, and so is her’s, and so is everyone’s. She has to stop making mistakes with him, making him worse. Otherwise she really is getting in the way of David’s recovery.

"Will the three of you be all right?" Syd asks.

"We’ll be fine," Carry assures her. "Go help David. We’ll keep him safe."

§

Divad walks in through their bedroom door. "You have to—"

"Save your breath," Dvd says. He’s sitting in their rocking chair, his rocking chair. If David's going to keep claiming their things for himself, so is Dvd. "I'm not coming back. And don't even think about trying to emotionally regulate me."

"If I could, I’d have done it decades ago," Divad says. He closes the door and sits down on their bed. "You do know you just did to him what you're always telling me off for doing."

"Everything makes David suicidal," Dvd grumbles. "He's got loads of people keeping him alive. He'll be fine."

"He won't be," Divad says, like he knows it for a fact. Divad doesn't know anything, he just acts like he does.

"He doesn't care about us," Dvd says, in no mood for Divad's manipulative crap. "He cares about Syd and Amy more than us. They're the ones who hurt him and he took them back before us! Well they can have him."

"He doesn't remember us," Divad says. "He remembers them. Of course he took them back first. If we'd been able to find a good memory—"

"That's bullshit," Dvd says, because it is. "He remembers the lamp. We have the lamp, but is that enough for him? No, it's not."

"It will be," Divad insists. "Look what happened with Syd's book. That almost got him to accept that he's still himself."

"Close is for hand grenades," Dvd says, waving his hand in dismissal. "He doesn't want to accept himself. He doesn't even want to remember the things he can remember. We're never going to get him back and I'm sick of trying."

Divad shifts back against the pillows, leans against the headboard. He looks at the stars turning across the walls.

Dvd picks up the lamp. Their lamp is still intact, unlike that other lamp. If David remembered them, they could share their lamp again. They brought David here after Syd tried to kill him, but David still thought they were hallucinations. He still thinks they're hallucinations. Fuck hallucinations.

Dvd throws the lamp against the wall and it shatters.

"What the hell did you do that for?" Divad says, actually upset for once.

"It felt good," Dvd says. "What do you care? It's not real, right? We're not real, this bedroom isn't real, David isn't real, so what does it matter if it all breaks?"

"It will matter to David," Divad insists.

"Bullshit," Dvd sneers. "You know what I think? I think it matters to you, but you won't admit it, because you never admit anything. You always know what's right for everyone, and that means you're never wrong."

"Oh, and you're right?"

"I'm always right," Dvd insists. "It's the world that's fucked-up. It's the world that's fucked up David and fucked up us. It's all completely fucked and nothing's ever gonna un-fuck it."

"Eloquent as always," Divad mutters.

"We should have told David to run right after Syd shot him," Dvd insists. "That was our one chance to get him back and we fucked it up."

"Oh, so now it’s not the world’s fault? It was your plan. You’re the one who told him to make Syd forget, you’re the one who insisted we make sure the monster died."

"You went along with it!"

"David wasn’t listening to me," Divad defends. "I thought he’d calm down once he got Syd back. Syd always calms him down."

"She used to," Dvd says. "And then she turned on us and made us do things. She’s the last thing we need. And Amy, too. Fuck that bitch. She makes a sad little smile with a robot face and David just rolls right over. I bet she can’t wait to lock us up again."

"We don’t know that, not without our powers. We can’t read them, any of them."

"That’s why we can’t trust them," Dvd says. "I tried. I tried to play along and make nice for David. But David’s not coming back. He’s never coming back and— Whoever this Fake David is, I wasn’t made for him. He’s on his own."

"So what?" Divad challenges. "You’re just gonna hide in here forever? With our broken lamp?"

"Fake David has his broken lamp, now I have mine. Get your own."

"You are such a child."

"Bite me."

Divad gets off the bed and heads for the door, but stops and turns around. "No. I’m not letting you tear us apart, too. You wanna be mad at David? Be mad at him! But be mad at him to his face. Don’t run away and pull this— Second-grade bullshit."

"So eloquent," Dvd sneers.

"I mean it. Either we go back together or we don’t go back at all."

"Better get comfortable," Dvd tells him.

Divad sits back down on the bed. "I’m very comfortable," he warns, and crosses his arms.

"Aren’t you worried about Fake David?" Dvd sneers.

"He’s not a different person," Divad insists. "Don’t buy into his delusion."

"Whatever."

"You’re supposed to be the one who never gives up."

"I never gave up on David. Fake David doesn’t deserve me. Only David deserves me and he’s gone." Damn it. Dvd isn’t in their body, but his throat is getting tight. Fuck the shit beetle for doing this to him, to all of them. Fuck the shit beetle for killing David. And fuck himself for thinking there was any hope of getting him back.

Dvd’s been doing exactly what the monster wants him to do. He’s been torturing himself with hope, with memories. That’s what’s happening to Fake David, too. Maybe Fake David has the right idea and they should all stop remembering forever. The monster never let him forget, but maybe he should, now that he can. Remembering hurts so much and he remembers everything.

Divad sighs. "This is why we need David’s friends. Even if we made him leave right from the desert, he still would have been— He didn’t have us for so long. Farouk took away his memories and stuffed him full of delusions. We couldn’t protect him before and we can’t protect him now."

"You’re the one he needs," Dvd says. "You should be loving this."

"Do you think I want David to be upset?"

"I think you love it," Dvd taunts. "You get to be the one in charge. He can’t survive without you and you love it."

"You’re just jealous because he doesn’t need you," Divad shoots back. "Oh, it’s too hard just sitting around, watching David be hurt? That’s how I’ve felt for years and you can’t hack it for one week!"

That stings. "Yeah, well— Well, I’m not you. I can’t turn off my emotions like some kinda robot. I feel things. And right now I’m feeling done."

Divad actually shuts up for a whole minute. Then he says: "Then I’ll have to do your job for you. I’ll be the one who protects David from being hurt. And you’re the one hurting David right now, so— You want to stay here so bad? We’re gonna stay here."

Dvd narrows his eyes. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Divad gets up and locks the bedroom door, cutting off the sound of Fake David's thoughts. "It means we’re not going back."

Dvd riles, then sits back in his rocking chair. "Nice try. I’m not gonna fall for your reverse psychology tricks."

"It’s not a trick," Divad says. "David believes we’re the ones who made him worse. Maybe he’s right. We should let David be with his friends so he can be part of the world. We’ve never been part of the world. We pretended that we were, but we were being David, not us."

Dvd rolls his eyes. "You’re not gonna trick me into going back."

"And I'm not letting you leave."

"Then I guess neither of us is going anywhere."

§

It doesn’t take as long as Ptonomy expects to find what he’s looking for, but he doesn’t hurry back to his new body. He reads on, looking at essays and case studies. At the stories of extreme child abuse and Holocaust survivors and people so broken that most believed there wasn't any hope for them, especially themselves.

When they first rescued David, he seemed—

They knew he'd been misdiagnosed. Most of the people they helped had been misdiagnosed with something, and usually that misdiagnosis was a result of their powers. And there was also real trauma from those powers: from being misunderstood, from using them without guidance, from using them to hurt others and themselves. They didn't just rescue mutants from mental hospitals. They found them in abusive conditions or living homeless on the street. They found them in juvenile detention centers and prisons. Most of the mutants who needed help were good people in bad situations. With a little push, with the right support and plenty of therapy, they could turn their lives around and start giving back.

But some of the mutants they rescued didn't want to be helped. Some of them were like Walter: violent sociopaths who enjoyed using their powers to hurt people. Some were just greedy and amoral. Years of experience helped them filters those people out, but sometimes they still slipped through. And something about David set Ptonomy's instincts off right from the start. There was something— Not right about him. Ptonomy thought David was hiding things from them: his memories, his truths, his understanding of his powers. Something about David felt like a lie.

Ptonomy's instincts were right, but for the wrong reasons. The David they found in Clockworks was a lie, his past a construction of his mental parasite. Ptonomy doesn't know if he should believe the alters' insistence that David is still the same person he was before he was so drastically remade. There is reason to believe they're right, but— Even if they are, even normal life experiences can change who a person is. People are always changing. David's past is important — his real past and his fake past — but what matters more is who he is now and who he wants to be.

When they rescued David, they knew he'd have trauma. That's what the memory walks were for, to help him process his trauma and recontextualize it, to face the past from the perspective of the present and use the experience to heal and move on. But David's memories weren't real memories and they confounded at every turn. By the time they realized that there was another mutant inside of David, manipulating him and controlling him, Melanie was convinced that that was the answer to all of it. They knew he didn't have schizophrenia, but they didn't think about what else he might have. They didn't look past the parasite to the damage it left behind, because David seemed fine, he seemed remarkably functional.

Maybe if Future Syd hadn't taken him so soon, they would have realized something was wrong. But Ptonomy thinks Syd is right and they would have missed it. They would have let things lie and in doing so let David's trauma fester. Because the alters came back once Farouk was gone, and the alters would have covered for David the way they always covered for him. And David did keep secrets, from others and from himself, because he didn't want to acknowledge his trauma either. It would have been an incredibly toxic combination for David and for everyone else, and the perfect combination for Farouk.

Future Syd accidentally did them a favor. She spared David that extra year and gave Summerland a second chance to save David from his trauma, and in doing so save the world. Ptonomy just wishes she'd done it any other way. But she didn't know the extent of David's trauma either. She believed he was beyond help and that the only option left was death. Euthanasia. But how to kill a mad god? With another mad god who seemed a little less mad. In her timeline, Farouk didn't live long enough for his monstrosity to be understood by anyone but David's alters. And David's alters might have shared everything with David, but they didn't share anything with anyone else.

After the desert, they all knew David was sick, but they didn't know why or how. They'd searched for him for a long year, and then David just turned up one day and didn't remember anything. It was deeply suspicious, but Ptonomy has to own his mistakes. He didn't trust David because he'd never trusted David, and the amnesia was simply too convenient for anyone to believe. But he'd looked at David's memories and David didn't remember, just like David couldn't explain the gaps and rips during his memory walks.

And David was keeping secrets. He was secretly helping Farouk, secretly working against Division 3 in service of Future Syd, who was secretly working to destroy David by pitting him against Farouk when there was still a chance for Farouk to win. It's been a lot to untangle. Farouk pushed David until he snapped, and the Admiral thought that David's delusions could be treated quickly because they were new. They hadn't had time to grow into monsters. A timely intervention could save the world, and if it failed, they could simply kill David the way Division 3 had always planned to kill him. And they could use David's therapy to control Farouk until they could find a way to kill him, too. Ptonomy agreed with the plan and set out to execute it.

But once they had David in therapy, once they found out about the alters— That's when Ptonomy realized this wasn't going to be easily resolved. That these new delusions were nothing compared to the delusions that have grown inside of David for decades, nurtured and fed by Farouk's torture and manipulations, and now they’re so big and all-consuming that they threaten to crack David open like an egg.

Ptonomy shudders at his own memory. His memories aren't as vivid here, aren't as immersive without his powers of perfect recall and memory walking. But even reading them from a hard drive is— Unpleasant. If he had any time to deal with his own trauma, he would. But he can't. He has to do what David does to survive: repress and avoid the memories. He's not in denial about the necessity of treatment, but if he fails, they'll all have a hell of a lot more trauma to worry about than one sudden and horrific death by insanity monster.

David doesn't believe he is a person. He describes himself as non-human, as a broken plate, as garbage. He thinks of himself as contaminated and evil, regardless of the reality of his actions. Like most main identities in a DID system, he's passive, guilty, depressed, dependent.

A lot of the research on post-traumatic stress has been done on soldiers. Otherwise healthy people go into a terrible situation, and then when they come out of it, they're different. The trauma has changed them in a fundamental way, left deep scars that may never truly heal. But as terrible as their suffering is, it's confined. The source of it is focused on specific events and actions. David's trauma from his possession, from Farouk's attack on Division 3 to rescue Amy, from the events in the desert — they’re war trauma. But they’re not why David hates himself. David has always hated himself, according to the alters. But David was just a child when he made the alters to protect him.

He was just a child. Farouk got into his head when he was a baby and became his world: his inescapable, omniscient abuser, who used different faces to terrorize David in different ways, and even to make David love him. And for all that Farouk made him forget, he left the trauma behind, the decades of scarring fear. That's the most convincing evidence that Past David and Now David are the same person, but it's also the reason why David can't accept that they are. David is still trying to dissociate from his trauma even as he works to face it. Ptonomy doesn't know if any telepath has ever observed the formation of a DID identity, but that might be what they're seeing now. With enough suffering, David might actually split again, and make Past David into a separate person to keep that trauma contained.

They have to keep that from happening. David's three identities have been remarkably stable, but David has been retraumatized again and again by his therapy. Some of that is necessary, inevitable, but it wouldn't be this bad if they weren't pushing David so hard. If Farouk wants David unstable, intense therapy is a perfect way to do it. Ptonomy thought they were being smart, helping David get better, but Farouk knows David from the inside. He can read everyone's thoughts. He needs David tortured in order to make him unstable, and they are torturing him.

So they have to rethink this. They have to be smarter than the monster. All this time they've been playing catch-up, learning what Farouk already knows, digging deep into David's trauma so they can find the heart of it. They've forced David to heal his broken relationships so that he can have the support network he so desperately needs. They've tried to reconstruct his real past so he can process it and move on. All of that was necessary and important but all of that has made him worse.

Ptonomy knows what's wrong with David now. He's looking at it summed up on a page. Complex trauma disorder. It's also known as developmental trauma disorder, because it describes the consequences of repetitive, prolonged trauma involving sustained abuse to young children as well as adults. It's a relatively new diagnosis. In the textbooks, this type of trauma is still treated as a subset of PTSD, as a footnote.

They are similar, but the differences are vitally important. Prolonged abuse can't be treated with the usual methods. Prolonged feelings of terror, worthlessness, helplessness — especially when applied to a developing child, they deform the sufferer's identity and sense of self. Complex trauma disorder is why so many main identities are the way they are.

Everyone missed it in David because Farouk disguised David's powers and his trauma as schizophrenia. They missed it because the alters helped David mask his symptoms. They missed it because Farouk changed his memories and gave him the illusion of a normal childhood.

Ptonomy hoped that they could work at David's trauma from the outside in. Start with the manageable things, the recent things. Encourage him to heal his relationships so the people who care about him can help him, too, so they can make peace and find forgiveness. But complex trauma disorder can only be treated from the inside out. It's not about guilt over mistakes, it's not about who did what to who. It's about who David believes himself to be, deep in his heart. It's about the shame he feels for his mere existence. They thought it was guilt but it's all shame, and the difference between those two emotions is vitally important, too.

Shame is what makes David hurt himself and punish himself. Shame is what drives his need to kill himself, regardless of the external reasons compelling him at any given moment. That overwhelming shame is a monstrous delusion, growing larger with every mistake David makes, big or small; suffocating him with self-blame and poisoning everything he sees and feels and thinks. Shame is why David can't forgive himself for anything, even as he denies the pain others have made him suffer and forgives them for hurting him, because shame is why he feels he deserves to be hurt.

Cary got the closest of all of them to the truth. He saw that David had accepted the world Farouk made for him, that he integrated his suffering into his sense of self. The suffering became a punishment, and the worse the punishment, the more David believed he must deserve it. And the suffering was severe and prolonged and unimaginably cruel. Syd was right, too: what's remarkable isn't that David is sick. What's remarkable is that he survived at all. Even accounting for the support of his alters and his powers and Farouk's memory revision, David's survived things that no one else could. For all his pain and shame and suicidal ideation, he's still trying with everything he has to live, to connect, to be with the people he loves and to be part of the world and give back to it.

He just needs the right kind of help. He just needs them behind him, pushing him forward in the right direction. He still needs to confront his trauma, to remember his past, to heal his relationships, but— He can't do that and survive if they don't treat his shame first. There's no pill for that, no neurochemical imbalance that Divad can manage. There are techniques they can teach David that will help, and they'll teach him those. But the only true antidote to shame is compassion. The compassion of others, the compassion of the self. That's the only answer anyone has found.

Ptonomy hasn't had enough compassion for David. He judged him from the start and found him wanting, without any real evidence to justify it. They've all withheld compassion for one reason or another, accepting David's delusion that he's unworthy of love or care. Division 3 couldn't see him as anything but a threat until David's therapy forced them to empathize with him. The world saw his brokenness and wrote him off, and that made the delusion grow as swollen and monstrous as Farouk's bloated form on Division 3's psychic filters.

Maybe that's a lesson for all of them. Summerland's purpose, noble as it was— It drifted into something else, by the end, compelled by their desperation to survive Division 3's attacks. It became more about what their patients could do for them than what their patients truly needed. Ptonomy nurtured that delusion himself, with all his talk of war and acceptable losses. There's nothing acceptable about taking traumatized people and turning them into soldiers. That's exactly what Division 3 did and Summerland was supposed to be better than that. They were supposed to be about making the world a kinder place. They were supposed to be about compassion, but they forgot that, just like Oliver did. They used David the same way Division 3 used Walter: as a weapon they could fire at the enemy. It's to David's credit that he resisted being fired, that he refused to cause any more bloodshed. It took love to turn David into a weapon, into a world-killer: love for Syd, love for Amy, love for Lenny. Farouk weaponized that love, poisoned it with shame, but they can save it. And if they save love, they just might be able to save the world.

Chapter 40: Day 8: I didn't force him to do anything. (Syd)

Notes:

Thanks to @sydneybaretts for her Syd medical headcanon: https://twitter.com/sydneybaretts/status/1024111930691252225

Chapter Text

The lab is quiet as Syd sits at one of Cary's computer terminals, scrolling through articles on dissociative identity disorder. She's alone here but also not alone. There are three empty bodies lying in apparent sleep: Melanie, Oliver, and Ptonomy. Melanie's soul is trapped on the astral plane and Oliver is outside of his body looking for her. And Ptonomy is back inside the mainframe, except that he never left it.

DID truly is the most normal thing in her life right now.

She's learned a lot, but the main thing she's learned is that every DID system is unique. There's no standard way for a system to be. Even the nature of their members can vary. Some systems have many temporary identities. Some identities are lifelong. Some become more dominant than the supposed main identity. Identities that are fully realized people are known as members of a system rather than alters. She wonders if she should suggest to David that he call Divad and Dvd members instead of alters. Maybe that will help, if they ever come back. Assuming they ever come back.

She shouldn't have talked to David about her therapy session. It's his day off and she knew that and she should have kept her mouth shut until he was recovered from the memory work. But she wanted to apologize to him the way she apologized to Dvd. She wanted him to know she understood him. She thought it would help, but it made him worse. It made David's system unstable, which is probably even more dangerous than David being unstable.

She's pulled from her reading by a motion out of the corner of her eye. She turns to see Ptonomy is back in his body and sitting up.

"I'm glad you're back," she calls to him. "I have some questions about David's system. Do you think—"

"It'll have to wait," Ptonomy interrupts. "It's time for your session."

"Oh," Syd says, surprised. She thought that Ptonomy would be busy with David until late, like yesterday, but now is probably as good a time as any. "Everyone's still in the garden. It's helping David stay calm."

"I know," Ptonomy says. He moves to the sitting area, claiming one of the loveseats. "Amy will keep everyone there so we're not interrupted. Come sit down."

Syd leaves the computer and sits down on the sofa. She looks to Ptonomy expectantly. They talked about Future Syd last time, but she's not sure what they're going to talk about now. Ptonomy seems very focused, so she decides to just follow his lead.

"Before we begin," Ptonomy says, "I want you to understand how this is going to work. We're just going to talk, but it's going to be like the memory work we did back when we first found you. I'm going to tell you some things about yourself and you'll have the chance to react to that."

"Okay," Syd says, but she's not sure what that means.

Ptonomy sees her uncertainty. "You haven’t given permission for Oliver to relay your thoughts to me and we’re respecting that," he explains. "But I have studied you the way I’ve studied David. I’ve reviewed all your old patient files as well as the surveillance footage of your time in Division 3, including your sessions with Melanie and especially the footage since David’s return. I have recordings of the things you’ve said publicly and privately, as well as the things David and his alters have thought and said about you. This means I’m aware of things you’ve thought in their presence when they were able to read your thoughts. Are you willing to proceed with that understanding?"

Syd wants to physically recoil, but she keeps perfectly still. She has to do this. If she doesn’t, Farouk will find some way to use her to make David end the world, and she doesn’t want to be used for that or anything else ever again.

"Yes," Syd says, accepting.

"Good. I want you to tell me about two events I don’t have a clear picture of. What Farouk did to you in the desert and what happened to you and David when we found you on the roof after the monk’s death. You can start with whichever of those you're most comfortable with."

Syd's very glad that David isn't around to hear any of this. "I'll start with the roof," she says, and braces herself as she thinks back. "David and I were looking for the monk. He'd told me about Future Syd and that she needed him to help Farouk find his body. The monk was in Division 3. We split up, I went up to the roof, and then—" And then?

"The virus trapped us all in our heads," Ptonomy finishes for her. "We constructed realities where our core desires were realized. Do you remember your maze?"

"I— Don't know," Syd admits. "I was— I knew something was happening to me, but I couldn't do anything to stop it. And then there was an intrusion in my mind."

"David."

Syd nods. "I felt him. I didn't know who he was, not at first, and then—" Her mind wasn't clear, not until the virus lost control of her after the monk's death. "I was angry that he was there."

"He entered your mind without permission," Ptonomy agrees. "He entered my mind and Melanie's mind without permission. He did it to protect us, but it was still a violation because we couldn't consent to it. We didn't give him or Cary consent to know our core desires, to enter our minds and change them. They were trying to help, but that help hurt us."

It did. And that made her angry. She remembers sitting in the gallery when he approached her, and she was so angry with him for daring to enter her mind, for daring to think he knew who she was and what she wanted.

"A few days ago," Ptonomy continues, "you said you wanted to teach David to be strong. That you showed him over and over how to hold on to his pain and use it. You did that when he was in your head. Tell me about that."

"I didn't—" Syd begins, and falters. "I wanted him to be strong. He said I told him that the world was going to end, that we had to stop that from happening. And he was— I knew he couldn't do it. I thought Future Syd needed Farouk because David wasn't strong enough. So I tried to make him stronger. I know that was a mistake, I know that now. Love was how he survived and I shouldn't have tried to take that away from him."

"I'm glad you recognize that," Ptonomy says. "Love is exactly what David needs to survive. But it's not just about him. You wouldn't have taught him that if you didn't believe it about yourself. You believe love makes you weak."

Syd grips at her arms. She's watched Ptonomy work on David for days. She knows their situation is desperate enough that he can't pull any punches. But they're just getting started and she already wants to stand up and walk away. She pulls her pain tighter around her heart and keeps going.

"How did you teach him that?" Ptonomy prompts.

"I showed him my life," Syd says, calmly. "My childhood, my adolescence. The things I did to survive. I wanted to teach him to survive." David thought he knew who she was, so she taught him who she was. She taught him over and over, trapping him in her head even though he begged her to let him out, because she couldn't let him out until he accepted that he needed to be strong enough to save the world.

But she didn't make him strong, she made him weak. She made him worse, she made it easier for Farouk to break him in the desert. She did that to him all on her own.

"We should talk about the desert," Syd insists.

"All right," Ptonomy says. "I know David's side of things. I told him about La Désolé and he went there to find Farouk's body. He left you a note. You had the compass. But you didn't go after him right away."

"No," Syd says. "I was angry. He left me behind, again."

"Not 'again'," Ptonomy corrects. "You know that's not true."

It still feels true, even though she knows it's not. Even though she always knew it wasn't. David didn't leave, he was taken. He was taken and he was afraid and he needed her to save him. That's why he made the compass and gave it to her. So if he was taken again, she would save him.

But he wasn't taken when he went to the desert. He left her. He absolutely left her and she was furious. She had the compass, she could have gone after him. But he didn't need her, so why should she have? He told her he wasn't going to save the world for her. The only thing he cared about was revenge.

"I can't hear your thoughts," Ptonomy says. "So you need to tell me what you're feeling right now."

They're her thoughts. She doesn't have to tell them to anyone but herself. But— She already is. She's telling them to Farouk right now. She's giving him everything he needs to use her again. God, she hates him so much.

"I was angry," Syd grits out. "David already told me that he was going to stop helping Future Syd. He was going to destroy Farouk's body. He cared more about revenge than about saving the world." She doesn't want to say this, she doesn't, god she hates this. "He didn't care about me."

"You just told me that you didn't want David to depend on love," Ptonomy points out. "You wanted him to be self-reliant, like you are. Wasn't he just taking your advice?"

"He promised me that he would never leave me behind," Syd insists. "If we got lost, we got lost together. That's what he said to me."

"True," Ptonomy allows. "And we know why he broke that promise. Because Future Syd could have saved Amy's life and she chose to lie to him. She didn't have to let Amy die to save the world. You think she tried to give David a quick death, but if she just wanted that, she could have put him back after Farouk had already found his body. She could have taken him when he was a baby and saved him from Farouk. Future Syd wanted revenge. She wanted to hurt David the way he'd hurt her. So she let Amy die, she let all of us suffer, because our suffering meant David's suffering."

"No," Syd denies. "I wouldn't do that."

"That's exactly what you did. Maybe that's not what you'll do now that the timeline's changed, but the potential for it is still inside you. I know some of the things you've done to survive. I saw some of those things myself during our memory walks. If someone hurts you, you hurt them back with interest. You always have."

Syd holds herself very still. "I see we've moved on to the part where you tell me things about myself."

"I'm not telling you anything you don't already know," Ptonomy says, firmly. "You're very smart and very self-aware. But you rationalize your pain and your violence so you can protect yourself with them. Those are coping mechanisms that you learned to survive, but now all they do is hurt you and hurt the people around you. And you have used them to hurt David again and again. You hurt him with them today."

"What are you talking about?" Syd didn't do anything to David. "Dvd’s the one who upset him. I know I shouldn't have talked about the session, he wasn't ready, but—"

"I'm not talking about the session," Ptonomy says. "I'm talking about making him hold your hand."

What? "I was trying to help him. I did help him."

"And you hurt him."

Syd can't believe this. "Is this about how I practiced on him? Because I apologized for that."

"It's not, not directly."

"Then what?"

Ptonomy gives her a long, level look. "Then this is the part where I tell you things about yourself. You're going to be angry about them. You're going to want to hurt me and hurt David. And I'm telling you now that if you choose that path, you are gone. You will not be a part of David's therapy and Division 3 will do everything in its power to make sure you are never a part of David's life again, and Division 3 has that power."

Syd stares, astonished. "What kind of monster do you think I am?"

"You're not a monster, not yet," Ptonomy says. "But if you don't change, you'll become one. You'll become a woman willing to let innocent people die out of pure spite. I was that person, too. I let innocent people suffer because I was angry at Division 3 for killing people I cared about. I let people die and called them acceptable losses, and I'm sure Future Syd thought that Amy was an acceptable loss, too. My anger was as justified as yours and it was just as wrong. I want you to understand that what we're doing now is not about punishment or revenge. This is about making the right choices with our lives so we can make the world better instead of worse."

"All right, then," Syd says, coldly. "Tell me. I want to hear it."

"Do you?" Ptonomy asks. "I want you to remember what I said."

"Tell me," Syd insists.

"Okay. What I have for you is a new diagnosis. We already know about your antisocial personality disorder. That still stands. You have a clear history of aggression and disregard for social norms and for the rights of others. You made progress on those with Melanie, as well as on your haphephobia. In her notes, Melanie had her suspicions, but she wasn't sure. I'm sure. Your fear of abandonment, your impulsive anger, your black-and-white thinking, your manipulative behavior to David, all of these strongly indicate a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder."

Ptonomy was right, she is angry. She's furious. This is like the fake Clockworks all over again. She’s not like David. She knows who she is and she’s not going to accept a diagnosis that isn’t hers.

"Bullshit," Syd spits. Ptonomy doesn't respond, and that only makes Syd angrier. "I'm not going to let you change me just because you think you know who I am."

"Isn't that what David said a week ago?" Ptonomy says, cooly. "He didn't want us to turn him into something different, something easy and clean. He couldn't face what he did to you, what he became, and you can't face what you've done to him and what you've become. But neither of you is so far gone that you're willing to let yourselves become something worse. This is his chance to turn his life around, and it's your chance too. You can do it together."

Syd gives a disbelieving laugh. "You just told me that all I do is hurt him. You threatened to keep me away from him if I don't get help."

"We threatened to kill David if he didn't get help. Maybe that was wrong, maybe it made him worse at the start, but Division 3 made the right call in forcing him into treatment. Your situation isn't as dire. You don't have omega-level powers. You don't have DID and crippling trauma. Do you think David would be better off if we left him alone with all three of those things? Do you think you'll be better off if you let your trauma and disorders fester, ignored and untreated? You have what David doesn't: the choice to walk away. Maybe Farouk will force you back, maybe he won't. But he'll never, ever let David walk away. Never. I believe that you truly love David and that he truly loves you, but you both brought toxic issues into your relationship and if you don't both work on those issues, they're going to keep controlling you. They're going to keep making you do things that you don't want to do. They're going to keep making you hurt people and then one day they're going to end the world. And all Farouk will have to do is sit back and watch the fireworks."

Shit. Shit.

He's right. She knows he's right. She's still furious and wants nothing to do with this diagnosis, but— She doesn't want to be the kind of monster that let Amy die. She doesn't want to end the world. She doesn't want Farouk to be able to use her ever again.

And she doesn't want to hurt David. She loves him. But somehow she keeps getting angry at him and hurting him despite that love. And— She doesn't understand that. She doesn't understand why she does that, why she'd want it.

"Fine," she says, the word forced out of her. "What does any of that have to do with me hurting David by holding his hand? I helped him stay. I had to pry my hand free so Cary could take my place. David needs me."

"He does need you," Ptonomy agrees. "It's important to you that David needs you."

Syd narrows her eyes. "David needs a lot of help. He's sick."

"But you need to be the one to help him. You needed to be the one to help him by teaching him how to survive. You needed to be the one to help him accept his diagnoses."

"Now my book hurt him?" Syd asks, disbelieving. "You're the one who got him to read it."

"And that makes you angry. You wanted to be the one to get him to read it."

"It helped him," Syd insists.

"It did help him. I was able to convince him to read it by piquing his curiosity about something he needed to understand. He chose to learn about his dissociation and opened himself up. You tried to force it on him, just like you forced your coping mechanisms on him. Just like you forced him to take your hand today."

"I didn't force him to do anything. You weren't there, you can't even hear David's thoughts, not with Oliver gone."

"Division 3 is always watching, which means so am I," Ptonomy says. "I saw David's face. I didn't need to read his thoughts. You saw his face, too, but you didn't care. You let him suffer because that meant getting what you wanted from him. You know he feels like he doesn't deserve to be touched by you, you know it upsets him, but you put all that work into your haphephobia and you thought that earned you the right to touch him. You thought you deserved his love so you manipulated him into holding your hand."

Syd feels sick. "That is nothing like what David did to me."

"It doesn't have to be. There's all kinds of violations. Not every death is first-degree murder. But Future Syd forced him into intimacy, too."

"I did not," Syd insists. "David chose to have sex with her."

"That's not what Dvd said."

"Dvd always takes David's side, no matter what," Syd points out. "David and I talked about Future Syd and his feelings for her. We set boundaries and he agreed to them. He made a promise to me and then he went ahead and broke it. Again."

"And why do you think he did that?"

Syd huffs. "I don’t know, ask him!"

"I’m asking you. Why would David agree to boundaries with you, then have sex with Future Syd?"

"I wasn’t there."

"Dvd was," Ptonomy says. "Dvd can hear David's thoughts. He knows exactly why David slept with Future Syd, but you'd rather be angry than face the truth, so I'll remind you. He said they confronted Future Syd about Amy but she wasn't sorry. She kept pushing David to help Farouk so Farouk would kill him. When that didn't work, she used guilt to negate David's anger and make him vulnerable again. Then she asked if they could say goodbye. What would David do if you asked to say goodbye to him? Do you really think he could refuse?"

Syd could easily imagine David’s reaction to that even if she hadn’t seen it for herself. Wasn’t that what she loved about him, that he would do anything for her? Isn’t that why she was so angry with him in those last days, because he wouldn’t save the world for her?

"He should have known that I’m not her," she insists anyway.

"I was thinking about that," Ptonomy says. "From David’s point of view, you’re both Future Syd. He was taken and brought into the future twice, first in the orb meeting her, and second when he woke up in Division 3 and met you. How should he be able to differentiate between you from the future and you from the future?"

"The missing arm is a hint."

"In the surveillance footage, David repeatedly expressed difficulty in differentiating your two states. He told that to you and to the monk. In fact, you enforced that belief by telling him you trusted your future self because she was you. And I quote: 'If I said that you should do it, then you should do it.'"

Division 3 really is always watching. "Okay, so she’s me. And David will do anything I ask him to, except when he won't because I told him to do something else."

"In a healthy relationship, both partners should be able to make the right decisions for themselves. You don't want to take no for an answer, and David would rather hurt himself than refuse you. If he can't give you what you want, you punish him for it. And when he threatens you, you're willing to do anything it takes to make him suffer. Do you know what that sounds like? It sounds like Amahl Farouk."

Jesus. "If I'm that far gone, maybe Division 3 should kill me. Maybe I should kill myself."

"And what do you think that would do to David?" Ptonomy says, and that's even worse. "You're not a bad person. You don't deserve to die. You deserve to have love and happiness, just like David does."

"Does this mean Farouk has BPD, too?" Syd asks, dryly.

"Possibly," Ptonomy says. "But he's also a sadistic psychopath. You're not. You care about other people. Your relationship with David is mutual. His relationship with David is not. There's a term for what David is to both of you, actually. It's called a favorite person. That's someone that you obsess over, that you're emotionally dependent on. It's needing someone so badly that it's physically painful when they leave you, so you'll do absolutely anything to make them stay, including hurt them."

Shit, maybe she does have BPD. Every time David leaves her, it's so painful she can't stand it, and that's what makes her angry. That's what makes her punish him so he won't ever leave her again. That's why she can't stop hurting him.

"You win," Syd says, accepting her fate. "I have BPD and I need help. You don't have to lock me up with a crown on my head. Is there anything else wrong with me, while we're at it?"

"There is, but to understand that I need you to tell me what happened in the desert."

Syd doesn't know if she can. "Can we save it for our next session?"

"I wish we could, but we have to deal with this now. David desperately needs a safe environment. There are things we can't change about this situation, but the only people I'm allowing to be part of David's treatment are people he can trust. People he can rely on to keep him safe and put his needs first. People who love him and accept him as he is."

"And I don't?"

"Tell me about the desert," Ptonomy says. "What happened the morning after the storm?"

Syd sighs. "I woke up, went out and looked around. There was a giant hole in the ground." God, this part is embarrassing. "And then someone threw a rabbit out of it."

"A rabbit?"

"On a hook. I know, Farouk was— Messing with me. As usual. The rabbit was still alive, so I picked it up and pulled out the hook. And then Farouk reeled me in." She flexes her hand. The wound from the hook is still healing inside. She never had it treated properly after they got back. She's never liked letting doctors touch her body, so she's always taken care of herself. She probably should have let Cary stitch her up, but instead she has two new, livid scars. But no infection, so it's fine.

"Down into the labyrinth," Ptonomy prompts.

"Yeah," Syd says, remembering. "Melanie was there, acting weird. She kept going on about men and love. She said— David never really loved me. That I was just— A thing for him to possess." God, it still hurts so much. She'd believed those words when they captured David, and everything she saw that day was filtered through them. "She said you can't convince someone they're wrong by giving them the facts, but a good story will do it every time."

"And that's what Farouk did?" Ptonomy asks. "He gave you a good story?"

"He said David had a gift and a curse. That Farouk was the gift, and the curse is that David's insane. I didn't believe that, not at first, but— He showed me things. Images of David, of the things he's done. Everything was— Confusing, out of context. It was hard to think straight. I think he was— Doing something to me. Forcing me to open my mind. I couldn't keep his ideas out of my head."

"He was," Ptonomy says, his voice softer now than it's been through the whole session. "What ideas did he force on you?"

"That David enjoyed what Farouk made him do," Syd says, feeling the pain she felt then believing those ideas and the pain it gives her now to have accepted them. "He showed me that David was torturing Oliver to find me. I knew it wasn't his fault, I knew David was being tricked, but— He was so— He wasn't my David, he was angry and cruel and he was enjoying it. He wanted revenge and he thought he was getting it and— That wasn't the man I loved. And then— Farouk showed me David and Future Syd together, and I was so angry at him. He broke his promise, he lied to me, and he wasn't trying to save the world, he didn't care about me, he didn't care about the world, he only cared about himself. And then I saw Future Syd talking to Farouk, and they said that David was the one who ends the world. That I needed Farouk so I could stop him, so I could—"

She cuts herself off, on the verge of tears. She holds her pain so tight around her heart, but it's been broken for a week and the tightness only makes the broken pieces rub painfully against each other.

"Farouk said—" She says, forcing herself to continue. "He said David had too much power. That he was tricked and abused and driven insane. That he tried to kill himself because he knew he was a monster. That it wasn't his choice, that it's just who he is, and— And all of that—" She looks to Ptonomy. "It was the truth. I knew it was the truth. And it's still the truth now, but— It's the monster's truth. He made me believe his truth and gave me a gun and told me to be the hero who kills the monster. And I went and I took that gun and I pointed it at David—"

And she fired. She believed all of that so much that she fired a bullet at his head.

She doesn't know if it would have killed him. Maybe David's powers would have come back in the nick of time and saved him. Farouk obviously wants David alive, but if he hadn't set her against David, David would have killed Farouk. So maybe Farouk was desperate enough to take the risk of losing his favorite person if it meant his own survival.

"Do you think it's true that David has too much power?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd opens her eyes. She doesn't know when she closed them. "I—"

"You said it was true," Ptonomy says. "I agree with most of that story. Farouk tricked and abused David and broke his mind. David tries to kill himself because he's ashamed of what he is. David never had any choice because the monster in his head took away his choices. But the monster didn't give David his powers. David grew up able to safely control his powers despite everything Farouk did to him, until the monster erased his memory so he couldn't control them. David's powers are the one thing that you shouldn't be afraid of. But that's what scares you the most."

"I never said that," Syd insists.

"You said it yesterday," Ptonomy says. "Mind readers are too powerful to trust."

"I didn’t say that," Syd says, angrily. "I thought it. You said Oliver wouldn't relay my thoughts to you."

"No, but he's allowed to tell me if there's something that worries him. That worried him. And he was right to tell me. You’re a very private person and telepathy breaks through every defense you have. When you met David, when you chose to be with him, neither of you knew what he was. By the time he was aware of and able to control his powers, he was taken and we didn’t get him back for a year. You did a lot of thinking over that year. You put a lot of effort into finding him and giving him a reason to stay. But I think that year also gave you time to realize that the David you fell in love with wasn’t the David you were trying to find. That the two of you weren't who you were anymore. That’s what you said to Clark."

"God, I hate this place," Syd mutters.

"You hate having your words overheard and recorded. How do you feel about having your thoughts overheard? If David manipulated your thoughts, could you defend yourself? Would you even know if he changed you? Could you love someone with those powers? Could you trust them? Or would some part of you always believe that the existence of those powers made him a monster? That's the truth you couldn't refuse. That's the part of you that pointed a gun at David and pulled the trigger. And I think that's the reason Future Syd decided to destroy David rather than save him. Because she could have saved him. She could have done so many other things than what she did, but she didn't believe he should be saved. Do you believe that David should be saved? Do you believe he's worth saving? Or is it too late for him, like it was too late for your mother, and the kindest thing to do is—"

"Shut up," Syd spits, teeth bared. "Of course he should be saved!"

"That's the reaction I was hoping for," Ptonomy says, leaning back.

"God, you're a bastard," Syd says, furious. She feels like she's been stabbed in the heart, like he cut through all the pain she guards herself with. Her heart was already broken and now it's bleeding.

"I'm a lot of things," Ptonomy says, calmly. "Right now you need me to be a bastard, because gentle isn't going to work for you the way it works for David. You don't listen to gentle. You don't allow yourself to be soft. We have a lot of work to do to get you better and we can't do that if you won't listen. So I'm not going to make this easy for you, but if you let me help you, I'll help you. We both know you don't like letting people help you, you don't like opening up. You barely opened up to Melanie and she's the person you trusted most, which is why Farouk used her against you. But that's another problem you have. David trusts too much, but you don't trust anyone but yourself, so Farouk used Future Syd against you, too. Because she is you." He pauses. "You need to trust me and you're going to need to trust David. If you love him, if you want to be with him, if you want to stop hurting him, you need to open up and trust."

"Those aren't things I do," Syd says, tightly.

"Then you're going to have to learn. We’re done now, by the way."

"Thanks," Syd says, bitterly.

"You’re welcome," Ptonomy says. "Your homework is to stop researching David’s problems and start researching your own. You think you understand yourself but you don’t, not yet. Put your energy into yourself."

"What about David?" Syd asks. "Should I leave? I don’t— I don’t want to get in the way of his treatment." She truly doesn't. She wants him to get better, even if that can only happen without her.

"He needs you here for that. So stay. Be with him, but don’t push him. Let him come to you. He’s just learning how to make choices for himself. Let him make them. Stop trying to be his therapist, he already has one. Be his friend instead. I did hear he needs a therapy buddy. He asked you to be that. That’s a big deal for him, to ask you for anything. He thinks he doesn’t deserve you. He’s afraid of losing you, just like you’re afraid of losing him."

"David doesn’t like other people telling his secrets," Syd reminds him.

"I don’t think those are secrets to anyone," Ptonomy replies. "I messed up too, not getting David’s permission to discuss his experiences before our first session, but Dvd and Divad have the right to be treated as more than just parts of David. They’re the ones who should have asked David for permission to share his thoughts. Dvd and Divad are used to things working a certain way with David, and now their relationship is different. But different can be better. For you and them and David. Build your new foundations together."

"I don’t know if you noticed, but those parts of David hate me," Syd says. "And they’re right to. They’re not going to want to share."

"They’re used to sharing," Ptonomy points out. "When we get them back, maybe David will let you talk to them."

"I very much doubt that."

"Maybe," Ptonomy allows. "But trust is a two-way street. If you open up to David, maybe he’ll open up to you. You’ll never know if you keep shutting him out. If you’re always in control, what you’re doing is making sure he’s always powerless. Let him take care of you sometimes. Let him give back. That’s all he wants to do."

It is. She knows that because David told her, standing in the woods in Summerland. He just wanted to be useful and help and contribute something to the world he felt he took so much from. But David’s world has always been the people around him, the people he loves. He wanted to give back to them. He wanted to be useful to them, but no one let him because he was sick. So when they finally turned to him for help, he couldn’t say no. He couldn’t refuse them, even as they told him to do things that hurt and confused him. He owed them all so much and he wasn’t worth any of it so he had to do anything they asked. Anything she asked.

But she didn’t ask him. She told him. She forced him. Anyone else would have pushed back and Syd would have stopped. But David couldn’t say no and she loved that.

She really is like Farouk. She doesn’t want to be anything like him, but she is. It’s no wonder he used her so much. She made it so easy for him. He didn’t have to turn her into a puppet because she already wanted to do the same things to David that he did.

And she's afraid of David's powers. She's afraid he'll use them against her and she won't be able to stop him. Farouk knew that even when she didn't. He made that fear a reality. He knew it would destroy them both, and it did. The love she had for David, for the David she met in Clockworks, for the sweet, gentle, helpless, sick man she thought she knew — It was already dying, but Farouk destroyed it.

But that love was unbalanced, like David was unbalanced without his alters. It was Syd taking more than she should and David giving too much, both of them so afraid of losing the other that they made that loss inevitable. Syd doesn't know how to be any other way than she's always been, but— She hasn't been happy with herself for a while. She's wanted to be better, but— For all the work she's done, she hasn't done enough. She's barely started.

"We'll have our next session tomorrow?" Syd asks.

"We will," Ptonomy says, warmer in response to her cooperation. "I'm not sure what time. It depends on what happens with David and Dvd and Divad. It's not good for them to be apart. If they're not back by the morning, once Oliver's awake, we'll try to reach them."

"I hope we can," Syd says. Her research didn't give her any reassurance that Divad and Dvd aren't gone for good. Identities can change, they can disappear for months or years, they can die and be replaced. The mind is a strange and fluid place for people like David. Maybe for everyone.

Syd's never thought of herself as someone who needs certainty in her life, but she needs to be certain about herself. She thought she knew exactly who she was, but she didn't. Not as badly as David, and thank god for that. But there are things that match between them.

Maybe she'll make a good therapy buddy for him after all.

Chapter 41: Day 8: David is love. David survived. (David)

Chapter Text

The lab feels emptier without Divad and Dvd in it. It shouldn’t; when they insisted on staying visible, he insisted on ignoring them as much as he could. Not that it was easy. They were very— Persistent. Loud, argumentative, opinionated. It was hard not to get pulled into interactions with them even though he knew that was the last thing he should do. He’s spent his whole life talking to things that weren’t there and it did nothing but hurt him.

They’re not here now, and now that they’re gone—

They’re gone. They’re not coming back. David can’t feel them anywhere. Dvd was so angry, and Divad— He must have realized that wherever they went was better than staying here. That David will never be Past David, he’ll never be what they need him to be. His own mind knows he can’t be saved.

He’s trying hard to stay calm, to stay steady on his own. The garden helped; Amy and Kerry and Cary help; meditation and deep breathing and all his old tricks help as much as they always did. It’s not as though he’s had a chance to stop practicing any of them. The stress of the past week has been enormous. Divad only kept him steady, he didn’t take away David’s emotions or his thoughts. He didn’t erase them, despite or because of how much David was afraid that he would.

It’s selfish to miss Divad now. Divad gave and gave but David gave nothing back. He has nothing to give. He can’t remember Divad or Dvd and he shouldn’t and trying only made him worse. They were trapped in his head and he tortured them with his thoughts. He knows how tortuous his own thoughts are, and Divad and Dvd had to hear them all the time. At least when Oliver isn’t awake, the mainframe doesn’t have to hear his thoughts. He’s glad they can’t hear them now. He doesn’t want anyone to hear what he’s thinking.

Farouk can still hear them, but David doesn’t care anymore. He can’t even feel angry about it. He just feels numb.

He’s dissociating, he knows that, but it hurts too much to feel anything. If he lets himself feel, it will be so, so easy for him to put his foot all the way down in the wrong place. He knows that because it’s starting to feel like the right place again. So it’s probably best for everyone if he stays numb. He’s not allowed to die and he doesn’t deserve to live. He doesn’t want anyone to be tortured. If he doesn’t feel anything, it’s almost like he’s not being tortured either. It’s an efficient solution, for now. Until the shit beetle gets bored of David being numb and makes him scream again.

He can’t stop that freight train from running him over. He just wishes it wouldn’t run over anyone else. He’s going to suffer no matter what — none of this will ever be over — but he wants to be the only one to take that pain. It doesn’t matter how much there is, his whole life has been pain. Even the love he thought he had was illusions, tricks to disguise more suffering. Divad and Dvd believed their purpose was to protect him, but David knows now that his own purpose was to be— What did Farouk call him? His victim, his prey. His hero, but that’s just another one of his cruel jokes. His sun, but that doesn’t make any sense at all. The sun is— Warm and strong and life-giving. David just takes. He’s a black hole, sucking the life out of everything around him, destroying everything he touches. If he gives off anything, it’s just— Radiation. Friction from matter pulled in and ripped apart.

When they brought him back to the lab, they sat him down on one of the loveseats and wrapped a blanket around him. David curled up and thought about how the alters had looked sleeping here. He’s hurt them so much. He hurts everyone so much.

He watches the others move around the lab, changing the bedsheets and cleaning. The spray bottle makes the air smell lemony. He watches it all like it’s far away. He feels very far away.

Someone comes over. Sometimes people come over and check on him, and then they go away again. This time it’s Ptonomy. David’s glad that he’s mostly alive again. Ptonomy deserves to be all the way alive.

"David," Ptonomy says, gently. "Is it okay if I talk to you?"

David swallows, blinks. He manages a small nod.

"I’m sorry today didn’t go very well," Ptonomy says. "It was supposed to be a chance for you to rest and recover. That’s not what happened. I promised you wouldn’t have to do anything you don’t want to today, and I meant it. But— I do have a way to make you feel better. All you have to do is listen. Is that okay?"

David gives another small nod. People are always talking at him anyway. He can’t stop them. He can’t stop them from trying to save him, even though there’s nothing to save.

If Divad was here, he’d pull David back from that cliff. If Ptonomy could hear his thoughts, he would tell David he has to keep working hard to stay with them. David’s trying, but— That steep drop calls to him like the ocean, promising relief in its depths.

Ptonomy’s so much more himself now that he mostly has a body. He’s so expressive. Was he always this expressive? Did he always furrow his brow and make the skin between his eyebrows wrinkle? Did the people or machines that made his face study the way the corners of his mouth curved when he frowned? It’s been almost two weeks since Ptonomy died. Maybe he looked different before but they all forgot, and now they just think he always looked like this because it’s how he looks now.

David never saw Ptonomy look at him kindly before he died. How would he know to compare? Maybe it’s just the illusion of kindness.

"I can’t hear your thoughts today, but I’m pretty sure you’re thinking a lot of terrible things about yourself right now. They must feel absolutely true."

Ptonomy waits for David to respond. David just looks at him. Of course he is, and of course they’re true. They’ve always been true.

"But they’re not true," Ptonomy says, answering himself. "They’re caused by a delusion that’s been growing inside you your whole life: the delusion that what happened to you happened for a reason."

He pauses again. David almost musters a response, but— There’s no point. There’s no point in any of this, in the entire concept of trying to get better. He’s better off broken. The whole world is better off with him broken and numb because every moment he’s that, he isn’t being broken again and turned into something even more monstrous than he already is.

"I’m going to tell you some things that won’t feel true to you at all. They’ll probably make you upset. I’m sorry for that. But they’re things you deserve to hear. They’re good things."

David doesn’t deserve good things. Whatever they are, they’re not for him. Good things are lies and tricks. True things are painful. Farouk taught him that over and over. He’s nothing but scars from all the times Farouk stabbed him with the truth, and David’s thick, he’s a slow learner, but he finally understands. This is his life. This is who he is. It’s what he deserves.

"You are the strongest person I have ever met," Ptonomy lies, because that’s such an obvious lie. David almost laughs at it, but he’s so numb.

"What you’ve endured," Ptonomy continues. "It’s unimaginable. It’s so unimaginable that we couldn’t imagine it. We couldn’t imagine the kind of absolute cruelty required to torture an innocent, blameless baby for its entire life. When we can’t understand something like that, we look for explanations. For reasons. There must have been a reason for it. We tell ourselves we suffer because we need to suffer, because we’ve earned it, somehow. And everyone makes mistakes. No one is perfect, and being in pain makes it incredibly hard to avoid mistakes. And every mistake— That’s proof we deserved the pain in the first place. That feeds the delusion, helps it grow bigger and stronger. That delusion won’t allow any other ideas to flourish. It eats them so they can’t nourish you. It’s a parasite, keeping you weak so it can gorge itself on your strength."

A parasite. David knows all about parasites. He was full of one and David is a parasite, too, taking and taking and causing so much pain.

"We got Farouk out of you," Ptonomy continues. "But we missed him at first. Everyone missed him for a long time. Parasites are really good at hiding. They have to be, because the truth is that they’re weak. They can’t survive without their host. They can’t reproduce, they can’t exist independently as a species. They lay eggs in their hosts and those eggs start out so small. Even if the parasite is big enough to see, its eggs aren’t. They latch onto us from deep inside and there’s nothing we can do to stop them because we don’t even know they’re there. We just think they’re part of us. We can’t imagine there’s something else growing inside of us, so we look for other reasons. We’re tired because we’re weak. We’re slow because we’re stupid. We’re in pain because we’re being punished because we deserve to be punished.

"But that’s what the parasite wants us to think. That’s its disguise. If we could recognize our symptoms for what they are, we would know something is making us feel that way and try to stop it. We’re tired because something is sapping our strength. We’re slow because something is taxing our minds. We’re in pain because something is hurting us very badly, for its own benefit, not ours. When we got Farouk out of you, we missed his egg. We missed the delusion he put inside you and nurtured at your expense. We thought you were clean, that you didn’t need any more treatment, but we were wrong. Now we know what’s inside you and we’re ready to give you the help you need. We have a way to get that delusion out of you, to weaken it and kill it before it kills you, but we can’t do that without you. We need your help. Just like when we got Farouk out, we can pull but you need to push."

That finally compels David to speak. "I didn’t," he says. "Syd got him out. He tricked her into— Into getting him out of me." He wasn’t saved. The monster always gets what he wants. It was just another part of his plan, leaving David’s body like that.

"He had to trick her," Ptonomy says. "He was dying. He was desperate. He threatened your life because he knew Syd couldn’t let you die. If we’d had more time, we might have been able to get him out of you safely, but we never got that chance."

"So what am I supposed to do?" David asks, with no enthusiasm. He won’t have a choice about it anyway. He’s just the patient being operated on. They’ve cut him all the way open and reached inside him and tried to fix him, blind to the fact that he’s too broken to fix, that every part of him is warped and cracked and irrevocably broken. Even if Farouk makes him forget, he’ll still be broken.

Maybe he is himself after all. It doesn’t matter. Past David didn’t deserve to live either.

"You’re already doing it," Ptonomy says, in those gentle tones. David misses the way the Vermillion made them musical. "You’re staying with us and you’re trying to listen. You’re trying to stay alive. It must be incredibly difficult to do those things. It must take everything you have just to keep breathing. Because that delusion is huge and strong and hungry, and it’s been feeding off you for a very long time. That’s why I said that you’re the strongest person I know. You’ve had two ravenous parasites growing inside you since you were a baby, and you’re still alive. You haven’t given up. You haven’t let them kill you."

David shakes his head. "I didn’t do anything."

"You’re alive," Ptonomy says. "You’re here with us and you’re getting help."

"He kept me alive," David says. "He won’t let me die. He made sure that— That no one will let me die. I’ve tried— I’ve tried so hard to die." That’s why Amy put him in Clockworks. That’s why Division 3 took his powers away. Because he’s sick and suicidal and can’t be trusted not to kill himself. Maybe that’s how he ends the world. He tries to kill himself and fails and kills everyone else instead. That makes sense. He can’t do anything right, he ruins everything, so of course he ruins his own suicide.

"You’re in unimaginable pain," Ptonomy counters. "Of course you want to die. Death must feel like the only way to make the pain stop. But that’s what the parasites want you to think. They don’t want you to fight back. It’s another disguise, another trick. They don’t want you to see how strong you are. They want you to make it easy for them to eat you alive."

That’s— A horrifyingly vivid image, one David knows all too well. He shifts in his blanket cocoon, unsettled.

"We can’t let them eat you alive," Ptonomy insists. "You don’t deserve that. No one deserves that. Right?"

David doesn’t know. No one else deserves that, but— He’s a parasite, too. He’s Farouk’s son. He’s what the monster wants him to be. The baby that the monster possessed, that baby isn’t him. He’s just— A delusion. He’s a delusion.

"David," Ptonomy says. "You have to keep fighting. I know it’s hard. The delusion inside you— We’ve fed it, too. We helped it grow. We tried to help you but we hurt you, we made you worse. I made you worse. Division 3, Syd, Amy, we’ve all made mistakes with your treatment. But everyone makes mistakes. They shouldn’t define us. We’re more than our mistakes, and we always will be as long as we let ourselves learn from them. As long as we love ourselves more than we love our mistakes. That’s what we do, when we obsess over our mistakes, when we make them our world. We love them, we give them everything. But they’ll never give us anything back. They can’t. If we nurture them, we make our own parasites. We eat ourselves alive."

That’s a horrifying image, too. David must be— Riddled with parasites. There can’t be anything left of him. He must have been eaten alive a dozen times over by now. He’s just— Shit that’s been eaten again and shat out again. No wonder Dvd calls Farouk the shit beetle. David is the ball of dung that the scarab rolls around and eats and lays its eggs in.

Ptonomy looks at him for a while before he speaks again.

"Would you like to hear about one of my mistakes?" he asks. "The biggest mistake I’ve made with you was forgetting you’re not safe. That’s the first rule of trauma recovery. You have to get the victim into a safe environment. They can’t start to heal if they’re still being terrorized. And you aren’t safe. Farouk stays away from us because he wants us to forget that. But you know that he can’t stay away from you, that all of this is— It’s another trick to hurt you. It’s torture. And it is. I tortured you for him and I’m sorry for that. That was my mistake. But what isn’t a mistake, what was never a mistake, is why he uses us to hurt you. Why he used Amy and Syd and Lenny to hurt you. He uses us because we love you. For all our mistakes, we love you. And for all your mistakes, you love us. Don’t ever let anything make you forget that. Everyone in this room loves you and you love them. That love is what makes you strong. It’s what keeps you alive no matter what the parasites do to you. That love is who you are. Not your mistakes. Not your pain. You are love, David."

He’s love?

That— That doesn’t— It's impossible, obviously. It’s another lie, like the lie that he’s strong. Like the lie that he can be saved, that there’s anything left of him to save.

"You don’t have to believe that now," Ptonomy says. "We believe it for you. Amy’s believed it for you your whole life. She loves you so much. And Syd loves you. She’s here because she wants to save you, because she believes you’re worth saving. And me and Kerry and Cary, we’re your friends and we love you, too. We know what happened to you wasn’t your fault. We know you love us and want us to be safe, too. That even when you make mistakes, you make them out of love. Because that's who you are. David, you are love. And you don’t have to believe that now but you have to try. You have to try to love yourself. It’s going to be hard, maybe the hardest thing you’ve ever done. But I know you can do it because you have so much love for everyone but yourself. You have so much compassion for everyone but yourself. You don’t want anyone else to suffer the way you’re suffering. I know because I’ve heard you think those thoughts. You want to spare everyone else from the pain you feel. You made Dvd and Divad to try to save parts of yourself from that pain. And you did. You saved two pieces of yourself. You just have to save the rest. You have to save David."

"They’re gone," David says. "I didn’t save them from anything. I trapped them and I hurt them and—"

The numbness must be fading, because David’s crying again. He shouldn’t cry. He doesn’t deserve to cry when he’s the cause of someone else’s pain. But it hurts so much. When he hurts them, he hurts himself. He hurts right along with them.

"You’re in constant, indescribable pain," Ptonomy says. "You’ve always done the best you could, and you’ve done amazing things. You help people. You make the world better. You make us better, you make Division 3 better, you fought the monster and won. You’re fighting in a long war but you’ve won battles and every battle counts. The monster wants you to dismiss those battles, but they happened. They were real and his losses were real. Your victories were real. Every victory is real. Even if you lose ground, that was ground you held and you can win it back. You can win it for good.

"But you have to fight his delusion. You have to learn to love yourself so you can see how strong you truly are. How brave and kind and heroic you are. You are a hero, David. You’re a hero every time you choose to keep breathing, every time you stay with the people who love you. Every time you cry, you’re crying out of love. Your sadness and grief are born from love. You wouldn’t feel them if you didn’t love so much. You wouldn’t care about any of us at all if you couldn’t love. We’d just be things to you, objects to own and use and throw away. I know your thoughts, and I know you don’t believe that any person deserves to be treated like an object. The delusion makes you think you’re not a person, but you are a person. You deserve love just like everyone else. You deserve to be safe and loved. And I wish we could keep you safe, but what we can do is love you. We can love you so much that you can’t help but love yourself."

David stares, bewildered. "I don’t— I don’t know what that means."

"It’s new for me, too," Ptonomy admits. "But that’s the best treatment for people like you. So we’re going to learn it together. There are a lot of other people like you, David. Too many. The world has been an indescribably cruel place to so many people. None of them deserved their pain either. They didn’t deserve to be taken from their families or for the people they trusted to hurt them. They didn’t deserve to be rejected by society and hunted by the world. They didn’t deserve to be tortured. They didn’t deserve to be—" He pauses. "They didn’t deserve any of those things or anything else that was done to them. Because they’re people. And you’re a person, too."

David isn’t a person. He can’t be a person, because all those things were done to him but he deserved them. He knows he deserved them. "I deserved them," he insists, aloud.

"You were a baby," Ptonomy points out. "How could any baby deserve that?"

"I— I don’t know," David admits. "But I— I know I did. He must have— Seen something in me. Something just like him."

"So he punished you for it? For being like him?"

"I don’t know," David admits.

"It’s hard to think the way a monster thinks," Ptonomy says. "It’s healthy to be horrified, for your mind to pull away. But when you pull away from the truth, you make yourself vulnerable to ideas you should reject. Like the idea that the monster loves you. Like the idea that you’re just like him, because you were born wrong or made wrong by him. Those are his ideas, not yours. They’re the monster’s truths, not your truths. Tell me your truths."

David stares, unprepared. He hasn’t thought about his foundation in a while. "Um. That David is still David. That I didn’t— I didn’t want what happened to me. That it wasn’t my choice."

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Now what truth did you learn today? What is David? How did David survive the monster?"

"He didn’t," David says.

"That’s the delusion," Ptonomy insists. "That’s you pulling away from the truth. You just told me your truth is that David is still David. David has always been David. You have always been yourself. You have always kept fighting no matter how much it hurt to stay. You have always been part of the world and the people who love you. So how did you do that? How did David survive?"

"I—" David— How did he survive? Did he survive? He can’t be sure. He doesn’t— it could all just be another trick. It’s probably another trick. He— He couldn’t have survived. Who survives being tortured for thirty years? He must be someone else. He must be. But—

Amy loves him. She’s always loved him. Even though she made mistakes, she made them out of love. She didn’t want him to die. He’s her Davey. She doesn’t care that he's crazy and a mutant and three different people. She loves him anyway.

And Syd— He hurt her so badly, he ruined everything, but— She’s still here. She still loves him, somehow, even though she shouldn’t. She held his hand. She wants him to get better. She’s always wanted him to get better.

And Lenny— She’s suffered worse than anyone, because of him. He can’t even face her. But she’s here. She talked to him when he was sitting on the floor. She’s getting a new body soon. He’ll be able to see her again.

And Kerry. She’s been so kind to him. She’s brave and direct and naive and she sees something in him that makes her want to be more. He made her want to be in the world, to stop hiding.

And Cary is— He’s the one who got David through his diagnosis. One of the darkest moments in his incredibly dark life. Cary’s words have helped him survive all of this. There’s so much love in him.

There’s so much love in all of them. And Ptonomy must love him, too, to work so hard to save him. To fight the monster. And Dvd and Divad— they love David. Maybe he’s their David. He— He wants to be David. He wants to be— Himself. Whoever that is. He wants to— To love himself. If he can. Because everyone else loves him and— And he loves them, even though it hurts so much to love.

"David is— Love?" David tries. It feels— Unnatural to say those words. It feels wrong. He can’t be love. There’s nothing good in him. There never has been. He’s disgusting and sickening and a monster. He should be killed, not loved. He should be loathed and punished.

But Ptonomy says that’s the delusion. The parasite. That the parasite believes those things and he’s not the parasite. He’s David. David isn’t the parasite, he’s the host. He’s— He’s being eaten alive, but that means he’s still alive. And if he’s alive— If he’s alive, maybe they can save him. Maybe they can get the parasite out. They got the first one out.

"David is love," Ptonomy confirms. He picks up the notebook from beside him and opens to a blank page. He holds the notebook out. "Write that down."

David pushes back the blanket and reaches out. He takes his notebook and he takes the pen Ptonomy offers him. He brings the pen to the page.

David is David, he writes. I didn’t want what happened to me. It wasn’t my choice.

He pauses, takes a breath. Takes another.

It feels like a lie and he can’t put lies into his foundation. But— It doesn’t feel— not true. That doesn’t make any sense. Either something is true or it’s a lie. It can’t be both at once.

He doesn’t believe he’s love. He can’t possibly believe that. But the parasite doesn’t want him to believe it and everyone else does. He doesn’t want to believe the monster. He wants to believe Amy and Syd and Kerry and Cary and Ptonomy. He wants to believe Dvd and Divad. If he ever talks to Lenny again, he’ll want to believe her.

He trusts them more than he trusts himself. He probably shouldn’t. But he does.

David is love, he writes. David survived.

He looks at the words he just wrote. David is love. David survived.

They’re not his truths, not yet. But they’re definitely not the monster’s truths. He can start with that. He can try to believe them. For the people he loves, if not for himself. Because he does love them. And they love him, even though they shouldn’t. It would be— Monstrous, to deny that. He doesn’t want to be a monster.

Tears fall on the page.

"David?"

"I made them leave," David says, and he realizes that he’s grieving. He barely knows Dvd and Divad but he’s grieving them. They’re parts of him. They have been almost all his life.

No. They’ve always been parts of him. He just made them into people. He made them separate from himself, but they’ve always been parts of him. He made them into— Into his brothers. And now they’re gone. He barely knew that they were his, and now they’re gone.

They’re better off without him. But he wants them back. They’re loud and stubborn and hostile and controlling. But they’re parts of him. They’re his brothers. He would have done anything to get Amy back, but the monster took control and all he could do was watch and scream. He would have done anything to keep Amy safe, but he didn’t know she was in danger until it was too late. He tried to find her in Lenny but she was hidden too deep. And now she’s in the mainframe and he can’t help her.

But Divad and Dvd are parts of him. They’re inside of him, not the mainframe, not Lenny. And if they’re inside him— He must be able to go wherever it is they went. Because they’re identities and he’s an identity, too.

"I have to find them," David tells Ptonomy. "I have to apologize. But— I don’t know how to find them."

"Divad and Dvd?" Ptonomy asks. Because of course, he can’t hear David’s thoughts because Oliver isn’t here. But how will they find his alt— How will they find his brothers without Oliver?

"Can you help me find them?" David asks, desperately. "I need to find them."

"Of course we will," Ptonomy says, smiling. "We'll find them together. We’ve always been good at finding people. That's how we found you."

Chapter 42: Day 8: They can all be one big happy adoptive family. (David)

Chapter Text

Take a break. Clear his head. If Ptonomy tells him to do that one more time, David will— He doesn’t know what he’ll do. Probably nothing, but it will be a very annoyed nothing.

He’s ready to find Divad and Dvd, to bring them back from wherever they went. They’re his brothers and he’s going to save his brothers. But no, he has to rest and have a snack. He has to write his foundation again. He doesn’t have to fill up his notebook but he needs to fill up a page. He was neglecting his foundation for all the memory work and that made him worse so from now on he has to work on his foundation at least once a day. At least three times a day, like meals. Kerry came up with that idea. David glared at her but she just smiled proudly.

David is David. I didn’t want what happened to me, it wasn’t my choice. David is love. David survived.

It’s a lot to believe. He alternates between believing some of it, believing none of it, and wanting desperately to believe all of it. But however much he believes or doesn’t believe them, they’re his foundation. They’re his truths, David’s truths. Not the monster’s, not the delusion’s. His. Whoever he is.

Whoever he is, Amy is his sister and Divad and Dvd are his brothers. They’re the Haller family. Amy said that she wants them to be a family and sit together and talk. They’re all they have left. They’re all parts of him and he doesn’t want to lose them. Not just Divad and Dvd. Amy is a part of him, too, and he’s a part of her. They’ve shared their whole lives together, even when they were apart. Sometimes siblings are apart, and then they’re together again.

Amy came up with that idea. He didn’t glare at her for that; he hugged her Vermillion instead. She’s going to get her new body soon and it’s hard to wait for the moment he can see her face again. But he’ll get their brothers back and Oliver will come back and then Amy will be really back and they’ll be able to sit together and talk.

He hopes.

He’s not sure because they haven’t come back. He thought that maybe, while he was doing the work to take care of his mind and his body— Maybe they would come back on their own and he could apologize straight away and everything could go back to how it was. Not that he wants to go back to how it was. He wants them to be— Not what they were. He still doesn’t know how they used to work, before Farouk tore them apart. He never asked and they didn’t tell him.

It doesn’t matter. They haven’t come back so he has to go to them. He has to find them wherever they’ve gone, somewhere deep inside himself. Like Amy was deep inside of Lenny, but— He hopes it’s not like that for them. He hopes they haven’t trapped themselves that way, so they’re forced to watch the world but can’t reach it. It must be different, whatever it is, because David was already torturing them with that and that’s why they left. Or part of why they left.

David is David. I didn’t want what happened to me, it wasn’t my choice. David is love. David survived.

He finishes the page and resists the urge to keep going. If he keeps going he might never stop, and he has to stop thinking about himself so he can— Think about himself. His system. His brothers. His selves.

Even with his part of his mind semi-functional again, it’s still all really confusing.

"All finished?" Cary asks, sitting down on the sofa beside him. He looks approvingly at the full page, very big-brotherly, the way he does when Kerry finishes all her food without having to visibly choke it down. David has noticed Kerry and Amy together and feels vaguely like Cary and Amy decided to merge the Haller and Loudermilk families when David and Kerry weren’t looking.

Why not? If David is going to accept his hallucinatory fractures of himself as his siblings, why not Kerry and Cary? Why not everyone? If they keep it up, they can even adopt Clark and his husband and their adopted son. They can all be one big happy adoptive family.

He means to think it sarcastically, but it comes out— Wistful.

He shakes it off and closes his notebook, puts it on the coffee table. "All finished," he agrees. "Now can we find them?"

"Now we can find them," Cary agrees. He waves Ptonomy over and Ptonomy and Amy take a loveseat. Kerry joins them, too, and sits on David’s other side on the sofa.

Syd hangs back. She’s been reading her book again, highlighting and making notes, but if it’s about one of his diagnoses she hasn’t mentioned it to him. She’s barely talked to him at all since Dvd and Divad left. Not in a standoffish way, like it’s because of something he did. She just seems— Focused. Internal, the way Syd can be sometimes. She’s dealing with something private and that’s always been— He isn’t allowed into that space. He wasn’t when they were together and he certainly isn’t now.

"Syd, would you like to join us?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd looks up, surprised. She closes the book. "Um, okay." She comes over and sits in the other loveseat. Her posture is neutral but tense. Syd’s never given much away, but David always did his best to understand her, to know her, as much as he could. As much as she allowed. He didn’t really notice how little he was allowed until now, because he was drugged senseless in Clockworks and then spent five weeks being turned in circles and tortured and generally run into the ground. The sixth week hasn’t been a holiday either, but— He got to know everyone else better. Acquaintances turned into friends, he rediscovered his family, he just has so many more people he’s close to all at once than he’s ever had before. And none of them are like Syd. They’re not all as open as Kerry or as loving as Amy, but even Ptonomy is more open with him than Syd, and Ptonomy used to hate him.

He can’t read Syd’s mind anymore. He tried not to once he could because he knew it made her uncomfortable, but he couldn’t truly avoid hearing her thoughts and he relied on them to understand her. Not that they helped him much, obviously. But without them, he feels like it’s hard to know her at all. Maybe she never wanted him to in the first place. Maybe—

"David," Ptonomy says, drawing him back. "It’s time to get started."

"Right," David says, bracing himself. "What do I have to do?"

"Nothing yet," Ptonomy soothes. "First I think we should talk about what happened this morning."

"But—"

"We’ll help you find them," Ptonomy assures him. "But it’s also important for us to understand why they left. They need our help but we haven’t helped them. We couldn’t see them and that made it easy to forget they were there."

"I could see them," David admits.

"You could," Ptonomy agrees. "And they could have asked for help, but I don’t think they know how. We all made mistakes, but that’s okay because we’re going to learn from them and try not to make them again."

It all sounds very— Reasonable, when Ptonomy puts it that way. When Divad and Dvd left, it felt— Catastrophic. Final. Proof that David was every single terrible thing he’d ever thought about himself.

A lot of things have felt catastrophic and final. It was all so undeniably true.

But when he thinks that way, it’s the delusion thinking for him. It’s the parasite tricking him into letting it eat him alive. He doesn’t want to be eaten alive so he has to fight back. He has to— Love himself. Somehow. It feels wrong, very wrong, but he’s trying.

He reaches to his left and Kerry’s hand is right there. She squeezes back and it helps. He’s steady. He can do this. He nods to Ptonomy.

"I know Syd said some things that upset you," Ptonomy says, in that calming tone. "We’re not going to talk about that now. But you were upset. Did you think something that upset Dvd?"

"Yes," David admits. He tries not to think about Syd, even though she’s right there, watching him, sitting perfectly still. "I was angry and— I didn’t want them to talk to anyone. Not when I can’t—" He stops, struggling already. Divad isn’t here to keep away the panic and he can feel the edge of it. He takes Cary’s hand, too, and holds tight to him and Kerry.

"They shared your private thoughts without your permission," Ptonomy says for him. "They’re parts of you that you can’t control. They know everything about you, but you can’t read them. That’s a very unbalanced relationship."

"I have an unbalanced relationship with myself?" David asks.

"Your relationship before was— It formed in crisis. It was shaped by the pressures around you and your need to survive. From what I understand, that relationship became dysfunctional."

David stares. "What?"

"It’s difficult to say, because you can’t remember your past and Divad and Dvd are extremely reluctant to share any information they don’t have to. Their whole lives have been defined by the absolute secrecy they felt was necessary to protect you. But Dvd has made it clear that he protects you from Divad. And Divad has been verbally abusive to you."

David feels like this is all getting out of hand. "Dvd’s the one who was angry. Divad only— He left because— He said he’d calm Dvd down."

"But he hasn’t come back," Ptonomy says. "When he couldn’t help Dvd, he should have come back to help you. He must have known how upset you’d be. But he hasn’t come back."

"Maybe they can’t," David defends. "Maybe they’re trapped. That’s why I have to find them."

"This isn’t a rescue mission," Ptonomy says. "They’re not being held captive. Their lives aren’t in danger. You had a fight and they stormed out. Like— Like the fights you had with Philly."

Philly. He and Philly had a lot of fights. She was always trying to help him, but he resented her help. She was always trying to make him into something he wasn’t. She couldn’t accept that he was sick and broken. She couldn’t accept that he couldn’t be saved.

Their relationship was a disaster, but David always blamed himself. He was the one in a drug-fueled downward spiral. He was angry all the time and he took it out on her. He never understood why she kept coming back. If he hadn’t hung himself after that last fight—

"David?" Ptonomy prompts. "What are you thinking?"

David swallows. "Do you think— Maybe I shouldn’t— All we did was fight, and— That’s all I do with them."

It’s not a rescue mission. They left because he hurt them. Forcing them to come back, it would be like Philly coming back. He’ll only hurt them again. That’s what he does.

Is that— Is that the delusion thinking that? Or is it him? How can he even know? It’s like— When he looked into Lenny’s mind and couldn’t tell the difference between her thoughts and Farouk’s thoughts. It’s hard to know he’s here at all when there’s been so many other things inside him, thinking for him.

"That’s not really an option," Ptonomy says. "They’re parts of you. They can’t leave and neither can you. You need to work together and build a healthy relationship."

A healthy relationship. Is that even possible? It’s not like he’s ever been healthy enough to have one. He’s sick and everything he does is tainted by his sickness.

That’s probably the delusion again. But if the delusion is thinking all of his bad thoughts, there can’t be much left of him. It’s been eating him alive for a very long time, according to Ptonomy. How can he fix his relationship with Divad and Dvd if he’s too sick to fix himself?

"David?" Cary calls, concerned. He puts his other hand over David’s heart. "We love you and we’re here for you. You’re doing so well. We know how much you’re hurting and your pain is real."

David looks at Cary. Cary’s face is kind and his eyes are full of compassion. His hand is solid and warm against David’s chest.

Kerry touches him too, her hand on his arm. "We love you. You’re not weak or bad or wrong. You’re really strong, just like me. We’re gonna fight that delusion together. It’s not gonna win."

David looks between them, uncomprehending. Then he remembers what Ptonomy said: that they were going to love him so much he couldn’t help but love himself. That’s how they’re going to get the delusion out of him. With love.

He doesn’t deserve love. That certainty is so overwhelmingly strong, it makes it hard to even breathe. It makes him want to stop breathing because he’s such a shameful thing and he should never be loved. But he’s breathing despite his shame at every breath. Cary and Kerry are holding his hands and touching him and telling him they love him. And each breath gets a little easier and easier until the shame subsidies.

He feels like he ran a mile. He slumps back against the sofa, exhausted, and Kerry and Cary remove their free hands.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts. "Tell us what just happened to you."

David tries to find the words. "It was like— A panic attack. But— I wasn’t afraid. I was—" He stops, struggling. "Ashamed."

"A shame attack," Ptonomy says, thoughtfully. "And Cary and Kerry helped?"

David nods. He feels— It’s hard not to feel ashamed about that, too. Not because they gave him love, but— Because he accepted it and he shouldn’t have accepted it. But their love— It helped. He feels better for letting them love him, even if he feels bad about it, too.

"Shame attacks are a part of your developmental trauma," Ptonomy explains. "They’ve been as big a problem for you as your panic attacks, but no one gave you any tools to manage them. I didn’t recognize them for what they are until I learned about the disorder. I heard your thoughts but I didn’t understand them."

A shame attack. He has tools to deal with panic attacks: breathing exercises, self-soothing techniques. So much of his existence has been about managing his emotions. It probably shouldn’t be a surprise that his shame can’t be controlled either.

"How do I—" David starts. "What should I do about them?"

"Shame attacks are similar to panic attacks. There’s some kind of trigger, an emotion or a memory or both. There are tools to manage the symptoms, but the only long-term solution is to deal with the source of the emotion. All of these attacks— Think of them as time capsules of emotion. You take a path that leads you to one, and when you open it, all the painful thoughts and feelings rush out and overwhelm you. You buried those time capsules yourself when you couldn’t survive what they contained. It’s part of your dissociative amnesia, too. You tried to forget but the memories and feelings don’t go away. They’re just hidden, and then you’re not prepared to deal with them when something makes them come back."

The minefield. Farouk might have buried some of those land mines, but David buried the rest of them himself. The thought of digging up all those buried memories is absolutely overwhelming. He can barely stand to remember anything at this point. But suppressing everything is why he can’t manage his emotions. God, he’s such a disaster.

"I know you’re scared," Ptonomy soothes. "Healing from developmental trauma, from complex trauma— it’s painful. Facing the truth about what happened to you— Confronting it means reliving it, including the things so terrible you dissociated from them when they happened. It’s not going to feel good to do that. Processing and grieving hurts. But what hurts more is staying unhealed. You are strong enough to heal, I truly believe that. You’re an incredibly strong person to have survived this far and if you put that strength into your healing, you will succeed. You will get to the other side of that journey and you will heal. And on top of that, you have all of us, ready to help you and give you the love you deserve. Because you absolutely deserve love, David. You deserve love. There’s no shame in love."

There’s no shame in love. David likes that. He doesn’t want to forget it so he grabs his notebook and writes it down. It’s not a part of his foundation, but he has other important words. His mantra. He takes a moment and writes it out, revises it again. He needs to remember it, repeat it, just like his foundation.

There are things I lost that I’ll never get back. But I’m here and I’m not alone. I’m loved and there’s no shame in love. I’m strong enough to heal.

Cary looks at what he wrote and makes a small noise of surprise. "What’s all this?"

"Um, my mantra," David admits. He’s thought these words so many times, but he’s never written them down. And of course Cary’s never heard his thoughts. "I’ve had mantras before, and— After you came and— You helped me a lot. Um. Thank you."

Cary looks deeply touched. He pulls David into a hug. "I’m so glad my words helped you. Thank you for staying with us."

"Can I see?" Ptonomy asks. David hands him the notebook.

"They’re not— Truths, exactly," David explains. "More like reminders. When I’m feeling— When it’s hard to keep going."

"This is excellent," Ptonomy says, smiling. "I really like this version. I’m sure we’ll find more good things to add to it."

David hopes so. They’re not much, his foundation and his mantra. But they’re hard-earned. He got them from the people who love him. They’re— They are their love for him, the pieces of it he’s been able to accept. Seeing it all together like this in his notebook, it’s— It’s more than he realized.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe the new part of his mantra is true. Maybe he really is strong enough to heal, if he did all this when everything felt so hopeless. Maybe he really has been fighting all along.

Maybe he’ll be able to get his brothers back and build a healthy relationship with them.

David takes a deep breath and lets it out. Whatever terrible things happened to the three of them, however Farouk twisted them all up— He wants to help them the way everyone else has helped him. They didn’t deserve what happened to them. Even he didn’t deserve what happened to him.

He didn’t deserve what happened to him.

They’ve been telling him that but this is the first time he's ever actually believed it.

"I need—" He reaches for the notebook and Ptonomy hands it back.

David pauses before he writes. Should this go in his foundation or his mantra? Is it a truth about himself or is it something he needs to remember? Maybe there’s not much difference between the two when it comes down to it. But they feel different. They help him in different ways. He looks at them again and makes a decision.

David is David. I didn’t deserve what happened to me, it wasn’t my choice. David is love. David survived.

Yes. That feels better. He feels— Lighter, for writing that. For believing it, for as long as he's able to believe it.

He shows the others. He's not ready to say it aloud. It's too fragile a truth for that. But even if the delusion fights back and retakes that ground, he knows he won it, if only for a moment. It was his and he can take it back again. One day he can take it back for good.

"Very good," Ptonomy says, impressed. "I think we're almost done. I want to give you one more thing before we move on. It's a compassion exercise. It's a way for you to help yourself when we can't be with you."

"Okay," David says, paying attention.

"When you feel a shame attack coming on, don't fight your emotions. Don't dissociate from them. Stay with them and put your hand over your heart, just like Cary did." Ptonomy puts his hand over his heart. "And then I want you to say something kind to yourself. That could be your mantra or your foundation or anything you feel able to say with love. Say it to yourself, just like Cary and Kerry said things to you. Keep doing it until the attack is over."

David puts his hand over his heart and practices. I didn't deserve what happened to me, it wasn't my choice. David is love. David survived.

"How does that feel?" Ptonomy asks.

David tries it again. It feels— New. Awkward and a little strange. It doesn't feel as good as when Cary and Kerry did it, but— It does feel good. "I think it'll help," he decides.

"I think so, too," Ptonomy says, warmly. "Do you feel ready to go talk to Divad and Dvd?"

David nods. It's not a rescue mission. No one is in any danger. But he does need to help Divad and Dvd the way he's been helped. He needs to bring them back so they can be part of the world, too, however much that's possible. They have a lot of hard work ahead of them, but he wants them to get better. He wants them to get better together.

Chapter 43: Day 8: Get the hell out, Fake David. (David)

Chapter Text

"Kerry and I have spent our lives able to go inside of each other," Cary explains to David. "That's how our system works, and we believe that's how your system works as well. There is a place inside of you and Divad and Dvd were able to go there."

"What's it like?" David asks, looking to Cary and then Kerry. If anyone should be the expert on being inside someone else, it's Kerry. "Being inside Cary, what was it like?"

"It was a lot of different things," Kerry says, considering. "Most of the time I was just in his body with him. That's when I was— A passenger. I watched and I talked to him and he talked to me. If I wanted to do something myself, I brought my body out of him."

"When I first went into Kerry," Cary says, "it was quite traumatic. I couldn't— I didn't know how to be inside her that way. So I pulled back. I went deeper, and I found myself in our childhood home."

Kerry nods. "That's where I went sometimes, if things were really scary. Just— Deep inside, where nothing could touch me. If I went deep enough I couldn't even hear Cary." She reaches for David's hand and takes it, and David gives her a comforting squeeze. It feels good to be able to help her the way she helps him.

"So that's where they are?" David asks, looking to Cary again. "Some— Imaginary version of my childhood home?"

"The inner world of a DID system could be almost anything," Cary explains. "But generally it's a place of safety. Identities in a system are traumatized and need a way to survive the same conditions that formed them. They need a refuge from the world. The inner world is the ultimate refuge. It's a form of dissociation so deep that the identities inside can cut themselves off completely. It appears that Divad and Dvd can't hear you or your thoughts or they surely would've come back by now."

David's not so sure about that. Dvd was furious, and Divad— David's not sure why Divad won't come back. Philly never left for long after their fights. If Divad is similar to anyone in David's life, it's Philly. He doesn't need to remember their past together to recognize that. But that doesn't give David any great confidence that he can get Divad to come back and build a healthy relationship. Or that he should.

"Could I hear them there, if— If I had my powers?" David asks. "Could Oliver hear them?"

"I believe so," Cary says. "Oliver was able to hear Kerry. That's how he knew she was real even though she wouldn't come out in front of anyone but me. He listened to my thoughts and heard two people thinking instead of one."

"Listening to my head must keep him busy," David says, lightly even as he realizes how true it is. He only hears himself but it's no wonder Oliver keeps calling his thoughts loud when he has three people's worth of thoughts at once. What was it he said they were? A resounding burble.

"Do you have any idea what your inner world looks like?" Cary asks. "Farouk made you forget, but perhaps you've seen it since we got him out of you?"

David's not sure, but— "In the desert, after Syd— I was knocked out and I woke up in my childhood bedroom. That's where I first saw Divad and Dvd." He doesn't want anyone to fire another bullet at his head, but— "Do you have to knock me out? Sedate me?" Maybe it's like the memory walk where they needed to lower his defenses.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Cary says. "Your inner world is a part of you. All you have to do is— Dissociate."

David shifts, tightens his hold on Kerry's hand. "Dissociating isn't good for me. It makes me vulnerable." Dissociating himself into some altered mental state— It sounds too much like going away, and he doesn't want to go away.

"It does," Cary admits. "But it's a powerful survival tool. It's how your system works. Dissociation will always be a part of your life because you are always dissociating as Divad and Dvd. I dissociate sometimes and so does Kerry. Not as drastically as you, but— That's how we learned to be when we learned to be people. Denying that means denying who we are. That's never healthy. What's healthy is accepting ourselves. That helps us to figure out what we need to thrive."

David tries to process that. Self-acceptance and being healthy and thriving— That all sounds impossibly out of reach. And now he has to accept his dissociation, too, just when he learned that he needs to avoid it. It's all more than he can deal with. He needs to focus on finding his inner world, so he can focus on helping Divad and Dvd.

"How about instead of dissociating, you meditate?" Ptonomy suggests. "Many main members say that the best way to reach their inner world is through meditation. How about we give that a try?"

David relaxes and nods. He can handle meditation. That's always helped him feel better anyway. He shifts into a lotus position and makes himself comfortable. "Okay. Now what?"

"Think of your childhood bedroom," Cary says. "Visualize it. What's a strong image that you can focus on?"

That's easy. "My lamp."

"Syd, can you bring over the lamp?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd brings it over and puts it on the coffee table, and they plug it in. The motor creaks to life, casting stars from its blue shade. David watches it turn. He already feels calmer, safer, more relaxed.

"Keep focusing on the lamp," Ptonomy soothes. "Think of how it makes you feel. Think of how safe you felt watching it in your bedroom. Let your memories of it guide you and pull you deeper."

David lets his eyes close and listens to the lamp turning.

"Very good," Ptonomy says, his voice soft and lulling. "Now think about Divad and Dvd. Reach out to them. Feel where they are. See them in your bedroom. See them with the lamp."

Divad and Dvd. They're inside him. They're in his bedroom. They're with the lamp. He remembers them in the inner world, Dvd sitting in the rocking chair, Divad standing against the wall. He didn't know what was happening or who they were but he accepted all of it, he let them help him. He has to accept them so he can help them. He has to reach them.

He feels almost like he's falling asleep, like he's drifting away from his body. But the sound of the lamp carries him along. It's like astral projection, but inside his own mind. He should have thought of that sooner.

He opens his eyes. He's sitting on his childhood bed.

Dvd is sitting in the rocking chair and staring at him in complete surprise. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"David?" Divad asks, turning around. He's sitting at David's childhood desk. "You shouldn't be here."

"Get the hell out, Fake David," Dvd says, angrily.

And then David is out. He opens his eyes and sees the lamp.

"David?" Cary asks, concerned.

"They kicked me out," David says, shocked. "Dvd— He called me Fake David."

"That can't be good," Cary says, worried.

Dvd's always been so insistent that David is the same person as Past David. Does this mean he changed his mind? Did he find some memory that proved David isn't Past David, the opposite of the memory that was supposed to prove they're the same?

That should make him panic, but it just makes him angry.

"I'm going back," David says, and closes his eyes. It's just like astral projecting and he knows how to do that. He opens his eyes and he's back on the bed.

"Dvd—" he starts, but Dvd is already standing and glaring and—

David opens his eyes and he's back on the sofa. "He did it again," he says, exasperated.

Cary is at a loss. "I've never dealt with anything like this," he admits.

"Dvd is strong," Ptonomy says. "But you're strong, too. You have just as much right to be there as he does. Don't let him push you out. Make yourself stay."

David could think about the irony of having to work hard to stay in a deep dissociative trance, but he's too annoyed for irony. It's his bedroom and his inner world and no one's kicking him out of it.

He closes his eyes and projects himself back again, and this time he's barely inside before he feels a force pushing him back. He pushes against it, determined to make it through. Dvd is strong, but David's strong, too. He has to get through to them because he can't fix their relationship if he can't talk to them, and he can't talk to them if he can't get through.

And then suddenly the pressure stops and David is back on the bed. Dvd is grappling with Divad, trying to get free of him. David hurries off the bed and over to them. "Please stop," David begs them, trying to figure out how to get between them. He grabs Dvd's arm and Dvd elbows him hard in the chest. David staggers back, gasping.

"Now look what you did!" Divad hisses.

"It wasn't my fault!" Dvd protests, but his anger subsides into grumpiness. "He's not David anyway, stop fretting over him. It's a waste of our time."

David sits down on the bed, holding his sore chest. It's the same spot where Cary put his hand when he said loving things to help David through his shame attack. If it bruises here, will it bruise on his actual body? Probably not.

David might be holding his hand over his heart, but he's not feeling ashamed and he's definitely not feeling very loving. "I'm here to get you back," he says to them, angrily. He winces and rubs his chest. It really feels like it's going to bruise.

"Not interested," Dvd says. He sits back down in the rocking chair and crosses his arms defiantly.

"David, you shouldn't be here," Divad says, standing over him. "You should be with your friends. How did you even get here?"

"My friends helped me," David says, pointedly. "And I thought you said they were our friends."

"He was lying," Dvd says, with a cold smirk. "We were both lying. They're not our friends, they'll never be our friends, and we don't want them anyway."

"You're not helping," Divad says, exasperated.

"Pretending isn't going to bring David back," Dvd says back. "He's dead. It's over. And I'm done fooling myself that this thing is anything like him. Take that delusion and cram it up your ass."

David suddenly understands why Ptonomy insisted on all that extra love therapy before allowing him to go after Divad and Dvd. If he'd just gone here directly, he'd be a wreck already. Dvd's words hurt worse than his chest, but David has his foundation and his mantra and his heart is full of his friends' love. These are his brothers and he's not going to give up on them.

"Oh, now we're your brothers?" Dvd sneers, furious. "You will never be my brother. My brother was David. You're not David and you never will be."

"Stop that," Divad scolds.

"You're still pretending," Dvd says back. "Give up. You know I'm right, I'm always right. You just shove the truth down so you can pretend you're right. You shove everything down and it's pathetic. It's bullshit. You've never been honest with David a single day in our life."

"I thought he wasn't David," Divad points out.

"Fuck you," Dvd snarls. "You've never been honest with anyone. I'm always honest. I tell people exactly how I feel and if they don't like it, that's their problem."

"It sure is," Divad drawls. "You're everyone's problem. And just because I don't see the world in black and white, that doesn't make me a liar. David's different, of course he's different, we're all different than we were. But it's a delusion that he's someone else and somehow I'm the only one who can see that."

"Um," David says. "I— Might be me?" He's not sure, he still doesn't have any proof, but— He feels more real and more like a person than he did before. It’s hard not to feel real when he feels so much love.

Divad smiles. "David, that's great! Your friends did that?"

"Yeah," David says, and thinks about Cary and Kerry's loving words, about Ptonomy's kindness and his determination. "They're— They've really helped me. I couldn't see it until now, I was—" He couldn't see past the pain, past the delusion. Everything they tried to give him, all the nutritious ideas Kerry said he needs, the delusion ate them so he couldn't. That's what parasites do, they starve the host so the host will be weak and helpless.

Divad sits down beside him. "That's why you can't be here. That's why you need to stay with your friends."

"You need them, too," David insists. "Both of you need them. You need help, just like I do. You're sick."

"Wow," Dvd says, rocking back in his chair. "They really did a number on you." He looks to Divad. "I told you they'd mess him up."

"What do you care, you don't even think he's David," Divad points out. "David, we don't need help. We're the ones who help you. We protect you and we know what's best for you."

"No," David insists. "You were tortured, too. You're traumatized, just like me. You have to come back so Ptonomy can help you, so all our friends can help you the way they've helped me."

Dvd rolls his eyes. "Oh please."

Divad looks less certain. "If Dvd thinks something's the wrong idea, that usually means it's the right one."

"You agreed that staying here was the right thing to do," Dvd challenges.

"Not for the same reason."

"Forget it," Dvd says. "I'm not going back there so they can pick our brains. Group therapy for David was one thing. But that's not David and no one touches this." He jabs at his head with a finger.

"Why did you want to stay?" David asks Divad. Dvd's angry, he understands that. Dvd has good reason to be angry. But that doesn't explain why Divad didn't want to come back.

Divad doesn't answer.

"See?" Dvd says. "That's what I've had to deal with. The moment things get real he just shuts down. Oh, he'll come up with a good story, and it will just sound so logical and reasonable. It's probably even true. But it's just the kind of half-truth bullshit the shit beetle uses."

"You take that back," Divad riles.

"Not a chance," Dvd says, smugly. "I don't care if that thing isn't David. At least someone else can finally see the real you. I don't have any brothers. I'm the only real one left. He's a delusion and you're a shit bee—"

Dvd doesn't get to finish because Divad stands up and socks him across the jaw. David gapes as they start fighting again, really fighting. If he can't stop them, they're going to kill each other. His mind is— It's tearing itself apart right in front of him. He doesn't know what to do. He could go back to his friends and ask for advice, but they can't do anything. They can't trap Divad and Dvd and gas them and put crowns on their heads until they agree to cooperate. They're literally just pieces of David's mind.

There's only one option. He has to make it so they can't hide. He has to force them to be outside, like Kerry was forced to be outside of Cary. That helped her, it has to help them. That means— David has to kick them out of himself and keep them out. He doesn't know if he's strong enough to do that, but he has to try.

All of this, it's all in his mind, his mind. And in his mind, he decides what's real and what's not. Just like the white room. This is just another white room, and if he can make a white room, he can unmake one. If he can bring his brothers into a white room, he can take them out of one and keep them out. They're all identities but he's the main identity. He's the one whose name is the same as the name attached to his body. He created them to protect himself. It's time he returned the favor.

He stands up and raises his hands and the room starts to shake, like the rooms shook in the memory walks that went wrong. David steps on something hard and looks down to see his rocket lamp is shattered on the floor, ceramic fragments everywhere. They broke his lamp?

Okay, now he's pissed.

The room is really shaking now and books are falling off the shelves. Divad and Dvd finally stop beating the crap out of each other long enough to look up and see what's going on. Their eyes widen with realization, but it's too late.

And then David is back on the sofa between Kerry and Cary. The inner world is gone. Dvd and Divad are both sitting in the beanbags, wounded and scruffed from their fight and staring at David in shock. David imagines himself as a fortress, like Division 3's compounds, with thick steel and concrete walls, impenetrable and guarded.

"You're here and you're going to get help," he tells them both, to the surprise of everyone else. "You're going to talk to Ptonomy and you're going to get better. We're all going to get better. Is that clear?"

Dvd struggles out of the beanbag chair and stands up. "Fuck you, Fake David." He storms off but he can't leave the lab, because Dvd can only go as far as David's senses allow him to go. David can't actually astrally project so Dvd can't leave the room. Dvd kicks the wall in frustration and sits in the farthest chair so he faces away from everyone and sulks, furious.

"Fine," Divad says, coldly. "I'll talk to Ptonomy and he'll see that I don't need anything, except maybe to not have to listen to either of you for the rest of my life."

David prays for strength. He has no doubt he's going to need it.

"Ptonomy," he says, turning to look at him. "I have two new patients for you. They're invisible and you can't hear them and they both hate me and I can't let them into my body. Is that going to be a problem?"

Ptonomy visibly considers this. "Not a problem. Though it’ll be easier to help them once Oliver gets back."

"Oh, thank god," David says, and slumps back against the sofa. He hopes Oliver gets back really soon.

Chapter 44: Day 8: They're all him and they're all infected. (David)

Chapter Text

David's body is a fortress. His mind is the only one allowed inside it, his mind and his alone. Nothing can enter him and nothing can pull him out. His mind and his body are one. They are unified and inseparable.

There's still an arm sticking out of his chest. The hand's middle finger is raised at him.

"Will you please stop doing that?" David pleads, strained. It’s very hard to concentrate when he has a rude arm sticking out of his chest.

"It's my body, too," Dvd insists. "I'll put whatever I want in it and you can't stop me."

"Gross," Divad snickers.

Dvd continues to move parts of himself through David. A leg, an arm, his head. It's incredibly disturbing and obnoxious, which is the point. That's why David is meditating, or trying to meditate, so he can ignore all of this nonsense and keep his brothers here so they can get the help they need.

At least he still has his rocket lamp. They can't break this one because they can't touch it.

"Oh, I’ll break it," Dvd promises, his head sticking out of David's shoulder. "As soon as I'm back in my body, I'm throwing this one against the wall, too. And then I'll stomp on all the pieces so no one can ever put it back together, ever."

David gives up trying to meditate. He stands up from the sofa and walks away, not that it will make any difference. His brothers go wherever he goes. Trapping them here means he’s trapped with them, too. And now that he’s done with his sulk, Dvd is taking the opportunity to remind David of that. Constantly. It’s torture.

"Torture is listening to your fake, suicidal thoughts sixteen hours a day," Dvd snarls. "Torture is listening to you tell us over and over that we’re fake, that we’re hallucinations. Well fuck you, Fake David. You’re the fake one and I’m gonna torture you until you actually do kill yourself because apparently that’s the only way I can stop listening to you."

Divad is less entertained by that. "I’m mad at him too, but don’t you think that’s a bit much?"

"If you don’t want to hear my thoughts, then don’t," David says, tersely.

"You think we never tried?" Divad says. "This is how we work."

"We had our bedroom," Dvd says. "When it was too much, that’s where we could go. We could lock the door and keep everything out. But Fake David couldn’t stand that. Fake David had to destroy the only home we’ve ever known."

"It was my bedroom," David defends. "It was just a white room."

"It was our home," Dvd shouts, furious. "You want us here so badly? You got us. And I’m going to dedicate every second I’m stuck here to driving you out out of what’s left of your fake mind."

"That’s enough," Divad says, getting between them. "David isn’t fake. Stop punishing him!"

"I haven’t even started yet," Dvd says, with a maniacal grin. "You got to yell at David for years. Now it’s my turn. Good luck keeping Fake David safe from me. I was always stronger than you and no one gets in my way."

David sits down at the table and puts his face in his hands. This is— It seemed like a good idea at the time, forcing his brothers to accept treatment just like he was forced to. They were killing each other, he didn’t know what else to do.

"I wasn’t gonna kill Divad," Dvd says, leaning over him. "But I’m absolutely gonna kill you. I won’t even have to touch you. I’ll just do what Divad always did. You’re a piece of shit, Fake David. You ruin everything. You’re hurting our parents, you’re hurting Amy. You’re a mess and you’re destroying our life. Do everyone a favor and hang yourself, Fake David."

"Hey!" Divad shouts, furious himself now. "That’s not what I said."

"That’s what you meant," Dvd shouts back. "That’s how David felt and you knew it, but that didn’t stop you. You wanted him to kill us. Well I’m finally on your side. Let’s do it. Let’s kill this delusion once and for all."

Divad lunges at Dvd, but David doesn’t try to break up this fight. He can’t touch them, not without leaving his body, and if he does that he won’t be able to stop them from going back inside him and never coming out again. Even if the inner world is gone, he can’t stop them from making another one. He only got them out before because he caught them by surprise. He can’t— This was all such a mistake. He’s so stupid, why did he think he could help them?

"Hey," Ptonomy says, sitting next to him. "What just happened? You said you’d be our relay until Oliver gets back."

"Nothing worth repeating," David says, even though his throat is tight and he’s on the verge of tears. "Dvd wants me to kill myself. Now they’re fighting again." He wipes at his eyes. "I shouldn’t have— I hurt them again. I ruined things again. I’m sorry, I know— I know I have to be strong, but—"

He tries to do the compassion exercise, to give himself love. He tries but he can’t. It feels like lies and it makes him feel worse for even trying. He thought he was doing the right thing and he ruined everything again. God, why doesn’t he ever learn?

He deserves to be eaten alive by his delusion parasite. Maybe if it eats what little is left of him, his body will be an empty shell and Divad and Dvd can share it. They’ll finally be free of him that way.

"Whatever he said, I know Dvd doesn’t mean it," Ptonomy soothes. "He has a short temper and you set it off. He’ll cool down, he just needs time."

"No," David says. "This was a mistake, I can’t— I’m not strong enough to help them."

"That’s because you’re trying to do this on your own."

"You can’t talk to them without Oliver."

"We can all talk to them," Ptonomy says. "They don’t have to listen but we can talk. You just have to be our relay and tell us what they’re saying. Let us help you so you can help them."

"Right now they’re not saying anything," David says, glancing over at his brothers. "They’re just tearing each other to pieces again." Because of him, he doesn’t say, because he doesn’t need to. All of this is his fault on every level. He made them, he trapped them with him, his thoughts tortured them just like the monster did, and now he’s forced them out of the only refuge they had so he can torture them with his thoughts again. And he can’t even stop himself from thinking all that despite knowing it hurts them to hear it. Forget his apology loop, this is— This is a torture loop. Farouk must be absolutely delighted. He turned David into a— A perpetual torture machine.

It won’t take long for Dvd to make him want to kill himself. It’s not like David ever really stopped wanting to, he just hasn’t been able to do anything about it. Dvd doesn’t care if all of David’s friends are tortured for decades. Dvd probably doesn’t even care if killing David kills his brothers, too. Suicide-by-proxy would probably be a relief.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, mouth set in a firm line. "Point to where they are."

David looks and points. They’re grappling with each other and their legs are going through the cot supports.

Ptonomy stands up and walks over to the cots. "Divad! Dvd! You’re supposed to protect David. Instead you’re making him worse. He’s trying to help you and this is how you treat him?"

"Fuck off, robot," Dvd snarls, catching Divad in a chokehold. "I’m not letting you crawl into my head."

Ptonomy looks to David.

"Dvd said he doesn’t want to talk," David says.

"You’re paraphrasing," Ptonomy says. "I need to hear his exact words."

David winces and complies. "Sorry," he finishes.

"You’re just their relay, like Oliver has been. We know it’s not you. Just keep relaying and tell us what they’re doing and where they are." Ptonomy turns back to Dvd and Divad. "Right now your head is the last thing I care about," he says, coldly. "What you’re doing to David is cruel. He hurt you by mistake. You’re doing it on purpose. David said you called Divad a shit beetle. Who’s the shit beetle now?"

David gapes in awe. He hasn’t heard Ptonomy this furious since— Since the Summerland memory work. And he’s angrier now.

"You take that back!" Dvd snarls. He lets go of Divad and gets up into Ptonomy’s face, even though Ptonomy can’t see him.

"You’re pathetic," Ptonomy spits. "You’re a bully and you’re weak, just like the monster. You want to make David break down? He’s already broken. We just managed to make some real progress while you were gone, and the moment you get back you’re hard at work taking all of that away from him. Farouk is a sadistic psychopath. What’s your excuse?"

Dvd is actually speechless for a moment. Then he riles. "I’m not doing anything to him that he hasn’t done to us."

David relays that, despite how horrified that makes him feel. If that’s really the truth—

"You’re saying you want to kill yourselves?" Ptonomy asks, tone softer but still firm.

"Of course we do," Divad says, standing up and straightening his rumpled clothes. "But we have to stay to keep David safe or alive or— We have to try."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" David asks them, after relaying their words.

"You used to know," Divad says. "And since we got back— We couldn’t keep you safe, we couldn’t protect you. The least we could do is not make you worse, and we can’t do that either."

David forces himself to relay before replying. "Everything makes me worse. All I am is worse." God, he really has been doing to them what Dvd was doing to him. "I’m so, so sorry, I—" He swallows. "I shouldn’t have made you come back. If you want to go back, I’ll— I’ll make a new bedroom, a whole house, anything. All of this is— It’s my mess, not yours. Please, you should— Some part of me should be safe."

David can’t say anymore. He sobs and turns away, trying not to cry and failing, as usual. He can't kill himself; he has to stay alive so they can live. He should do that for them. If they stay in the inner world, it won’t matter what happens to him, they’ll still be safe. Farouk needs him alive so David won’t be allowed to die no matter what he does to the world. Farouk must have hated them having a refuge. He would have destroyed it if he could. He couldn’t, just like he couldn’t get rid of Divad and Dvd, but David could. David doesn’t want them to leave, but— He won’t force them to stay. They don't deserve any more suffering.

"Neither do you," Divad says. He sits down next to David. "Maybe Dvd’s given up on you but I haven’t. I didn’t want to come back because— Because your friends have been able to do everything I couldn’t. I thought I could save you because I knew what was best for you and— That was my delusion. You can’t— You can’t say you’ll stay alive and give up on yourself at the same time."

"I can do a lot of impossible things," David says, tightly. "It doesn’t matter what I want. You know that. It’s not up to me. You have a choice. You should take it while you still can. All of this— It’s not going to last. Nothing good ever lasts. Please let me save you."

Divad doesn’t reply, and David thinks that’s that. He lets down all his mental guards so they can go back inside him. The inner world is still gone but it should be easy to make a new one for them. It’s like the mainframe. Amy and Ptonomy and Lenny are safe in the mainframe. Divad and Dvd will be safe in the inner world. He still has to worry about— About Kerry and Cary and Syd, but— There must be a way to save them, too. And Clark and his family. If Benny is still alive somewhere, and Philly— He can’t think of anyone else, but— If there’s anyone left that he ever cared about, anyone Farouk would hurt just to hurt him, he’ll do everything he can to save them. He can’t save himself but he can try to save them.

"That’s the kind of stupid, self-sacrificing crap David thought all the time," Dvd grumbles, sitting down at the table. "It never worked then. I don’t know why you think it’ll work now."

"Does that mean he’s not a delusion?" Divad asks.

Dvd makes a noncommittal noise. "If he is a copy of David, he’s a pretty good copy. I’m not saying I won’t take him up on that offer. But it probably wouldn’t hurt to stick around for a while. See if we can find that memory."

"Was I— Did I— Try to save everyone?" David asks. He doesn’t know. He can’t remember ever doing anything good for anyone. He can't remember anything.

"You tried to save us," Divad says. "Did you forget that’s how you made us?"

David wipes his eyes. "If that was me saving you, I did a terrible job."

"Now you know how we feel," Divad says. "But you tried. You always tried to protect us even though we’re supposed to protect you. And you did, in your way. You made our bedroom for us. You— You took a lot of pain for us. Too much."

"Not enough, if you—" David swallows. "If you want to die, too."

"It was too much for all of us," Divad admits. "Maybe— We do need to talk to Ptonomy. Losing you was— I don’t want to tell you how bad it was. You don’t need to know."

"You know everything about me," David counters. "It’s not fair if— If you don’t share back. It’s— Unbalanced."

"It’s not supposed to be balanced," Dvd says. "We know, you don’t. That’s how we work."

"How’s that fair to you?" David asks. "How’s it fair to me? Can we— Not work that way anymore?"

"We tried," Divad says. "We can’t stop hearing your thoughts. That’s why we went to the inner world. If things were too much for us, we could leave. But you couldn’t. The monster wouldn’t let you. That’s why you would go away instead. That was your escape: catatonic oblivion. At least Dvd and I had each other in our bedroom. You didn’t even have yourself."

No wonder they were so surprised when David showed up in their bedroom. The only reason he was in it before was because they brought him there to help him, once they finally could. And he destroyed it before he even understood it, before he knew it was a thing he could have. Again.

"I think—" Divad continues. "I think that’s what gave him the idea. He took us away from you and then he took you away from yourself."

"In college?" David asks. "Please, tell me what happened."

"No," Divad says. "You’re not ready. We’re not making you worse."

"It doesn’t matter," David insists.

"It does," Divad says. "Your friends are right. We have to go slow or we’ll hurt you. We hurt you enough today already."

"It doesn’t matter," David says again. It doesn’t matter if he suffers. He’s supposed to suffer. Maybe that’s the delusion thinking for him, but it feels so true that either it’s true for both himself and the parasite, or there’s nothing left of him and he is the parasite.

"What’s this parasite?" Dvd asks, suspiciously. "The shit beetle’s gone. Gone from our body, anyway. He’s definitely gone."

"It’s more of a— Ptonomy, can you explain about the parasite?"

"Of course." Ptonomy sits down in an empty chair. He must know where Divad and Dvd are sitting just from watching David talk to them. David forgot to relay again. He hopes it wasn’t too confusing, only hearing one-third of the conversation. Everyone must be used to it by now.

"David has something called developmental or complex trauma. That's why he hated himself even before he made the both of you. Young children in abusive environments, they accept the world around them. David's world was— Horrifically abusive. But accepting that world meant believing there was a reason for everything in it. That meant the terrible things were happening to him because they were meant to happen, because he deserved it. That's the delusion, the parasite that's grown inside him for decades. That's why he wants to kill himself. It's eating him alive. It's eating you, too."

"Excuse me?" Dvd says, and David relays. "We did not deserve to be tortured."

"David was very young when he made you. None of you knew the world could be any other way. You believed what he believed, just like you believed King was real. And you are parts of David, the parts he tried to save. Dvd, you're the part of David that uses anger to protect himself. But you still accept that your abuse and the world are inseparable. Instead of blaming yourself like David does, you turn your anger on the world. And Divad— You're the part of David that suppresses his emotions to deny his pain. You turn to logic to protect you, because if you could only make the right decisions with a clear head, the bad things would stop happening. But you can’t control everything, and when bad things keep happening you lose control and your anger controls you."

David looks at his brothers and they look back. For once, they all feel the same way. David doesn't need to hear their thoughts to know that. He can see it on their faces. He can see it on his face.

They're three separate people, but— They're the same person. They're him. They're his anger at the world for hurting him and at himself for deserving to be hurt. They're the coping mechanisms he uses to survive. He can't control his emotions because Divad has all his control. He can’t stay angry because Dvd has all his anger. His shame matches Dvd's fury and his fantasizing matches Divad’s logic.

They're all him and they're all infected. The parasite is eating them all alive and it's been tearing them apart for so long. It's what tore him apart in the first place. The delusion that he deserves his suffering is why— It's why he dissociated so much he broke into pieces. Because he deserved to suffer but he needed to save himself, and that was the only way he could do both at once.

Or try to. He might have been able to help himself, but there was a monster in his head, making sure nothing could ever help him. Keeping him from the refuge of his inner world. Preventing anyone from believing him and creating the illusion of schizophrenia so anyone who tried to help him would only hurt him. And then the monster found a way to cut him off from the parts of himself he needed to survive and stole his memories and his self-knowledge so he couldn't defend himself at all, so he'd be completely helpless, weak and docile and trusting and drugged, turning David Haller into the perfect victim, the perfect feast laid out on the table to be consumed.

But the monster is gone. The delusion isn't, but the monster is out of his head. They got him out.

"Yeah," Dvd says, roughly. "They got him out. Your friends."

"Our friends," Divad says. "Tell Ptonomy— Tell him thank you for understanding us."

David relays for both of them, for himself. He tells Ptonomy everything he just realized. He doesn't just think it, he says it, and that makes it real.

"I could still be a copy," he continues, forcing himself to say it aloud. "Farouk could have— Deluded me into thinking I'm David. But— Even if I am, I'm still— I'm still David, because David is David Haller's— Shame. I'm David Haller's shame."

Anger saved Dvd and denial saved Divad. But David couldn't escape his pain so he accepted it, and it just kept coming and coming and—

"David, you are so much more than shame," Ptonomy tells him. "You're love. You're joy. You're grief. You're every emotion and feeling a person can have, because you are a person. Divad and Dvd are people too, not just parts of David Haller. You're all real and you all deserve to be more than the ways you've survived. You never deserved what happened to you. You never deserved to be victims. You don't have to be victims anymore, not if you let us help you. All of you, not just David. You can become survivors. You can learn how to thrive."

"How?" Divad asks, and David relays. "What do we do?"

"What I already showed David," Ptonomy says. "The only thing that will kill the delusion is love. It's compassion for yourselves and each other. It's the love you share and the love of the people around you. Love is how David felt strong enough to find you and try to help you. Love is how you two were able to fight so hard to protect him. All three of you had ways to escape what was happening to you. David could have gone away. Divad and Dvd could have stayed in the inner world. But you didn't abandon each other or anyone else. You love too much for that, no matter what the monster did to you and no matter how much he made you hurt yourselves and other people. David Haller's love survived. You are all David Haller's love."

David looks at his brothers again. Dvd's violent and hostile, Divad's controlling and critical, and David's— Passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed.

But— Ptonomy showed him before. Cary and Kerry showed him. Being loved— It weakened the delusion, if only for a while. It's hard to believe that any part of David Haller deserves to be loved at all. But they love David Haller anyway. Amy's always loved them. Syd loves them. His friends love them. Even if they gave that love to David, they gave it to all the parts of David Haller. They didn't only love one part of him. Amy said— She said it didn't matter if he was two different Davids or three separate people. He was her Davey.

Dvd frowns. "She didn't know we were there."

David relays that, and Ptonomy says, "She knows you're here now. Amy, can you join us?"

The Vermillion sits down next to Ptonomy. "Hey Dvd," Amy says. "I was just telling David how much I wanted us to be able to sit down together as a family. You and Divad are my brothers. Even though I couldn't see you, you've always been my brothers and I have always loved you. Just like I've always loved David. I love all three of my baby brothers."

Dvd crosses his arms, but it looks more protective than defiant. "You're just saying that. You don't mean it. You're lying."

"I wish you could read my mind," Amy says, responding to David's relay. "I want you to know exactly how much I love you. But there's so many things stopping that. So you have to trust me, and I know it's really hard for you to trust anyone. I haven't been very good at trusting people either. When you're the one who protects, when you have to be the strong one all the time, it's really hard to let anyone help you. Especially if—" She turns to David. "Especially if you think that's the only way to protect the person you're helping."

"Amy?" David asks, worried.

"I'm not okay, David," Amy admits. "I'm dead. I died, I— I was trapped and afraid and I thought I would be like that for the rest of my life. I'm still trapped and afraid. My husband is dead. My life is— Everything is gone except you. You're all I have left and I'm so afraid of losing you. I'm afraid I'll lose you because you won't tell me when you're being hurt because you don't want to see me cry. And that's— That's so selfish, David. It's so selfish of you to do that to both of us." She takes a shaky breath. She's crying. "I'm selfish, too. I thought I knew what was best for you and I was wrong. I didn't listen when you asked for help. I didn't know how to help you, and so— I stopped trying. Divad and Dvd never stopped trying. They did so much more for you than I ever could because they're closer to you than anyone will ever be. And I'm— I'm jealous of them. Even when Oliver lets me hear your thoughts, we're still so far apart. The three of you will always be together. Nothing can pull you apart. Nothing can kill the people you share your life with."

David reaches out his hand and the Vermillion takes it. Amy's right, there's so much between them. There's always been too much between them, too many walls and barriers and silences.

"I'm sorry," David says, meaningfully. "I'm so sorry for everything."

"I know you are," Amy says, and it sounds like she's smiling through her tears. "But I don't want you to be sorry. I want you to talk to me. I want to be able to talk to you. I want Divad and Dvd to be part of our family the way they always should have been. You three are my family. I love all three of my brothers, and I hope— I hope all of my brothers can forgive me for hurting them. I hope we can all love each other."

David looks to Divad and Dvd, hoping they're ready to forgive Amy for Clockworks, too. But they're not.

"They're not ready," David says for them, regretful. "But— I forgive you."

"David—" Amy starts.

"I know," David says. "I know I feel like I deserve to be hurt and that makes it easy to— To forgive. But I gave all my anger to Dvd and my denial to Divad so— I just have to accept. What happened. What I am. I can't keep— I'm trying to not punish myself because— It hasn't helped me. It makes me worse. I don't want to be worse. I love you and it was everyone's fault and— if I have to forgive everyone to have you back, then I forgive everyone. I forgive Doctor Kissinger and the staff and you and— And even myself. Or I'm trying. That's— That's all I have to do, right? I just have to keep trying to get better."

It's the hardest thing he's ever done, getting better. Not that he can remember to know the difference, but it's breathtakingly hard. He's trying to get better anyway. With everything he has, he's trying. And he knows— He knows that Divad and Dvd are trying, too. Because they're parts of him and they never give up, they're too stubborn. Amy said he was always stubborn. He was always the most impossible, difficult little brother in the world, no matter which part of him was looking out through his eyes.

"That's all you have to do," Ptonomy says, warmly. "That's all any of us can do. Divad and Dvd, I hope you'll stay with us and try, because you don't deserve to be in pain any more than David does. You've been alone for a long time but you're not alone anymore. You have David again. You have us. Together we will do everything we can to make sure that this time is different. This time the monster won't win. I know that must be difficult to believe. But you don't have to believe it if you let us believe it for you."

David looks to Divad and Dvd. They're both so resistant. They can't believe that this time is different. David barely believes it himself. But a tiny part of him does. A tiny part of a part of David Haller has hope again, so that means all of David Haller has a tiny bit of hope again.

"I'll try," Divad relents, but he doesn't look thrilled about it. "If only because Ptonomy figured out how to make you accept that you're actually David. If he could do that—" He shrugs.

David relays that, then looks to Dvd. Dvd doesn't look back. His crossed arms look defiant again. "No," he says, firmly, and sets his jaw.

David looks to Ptonomy and tells him.

"Okay," Ptonomy accepts. "Divad, thank you. I truly believe we can help you. And Dvd, I hope you'll reconsider. But this has to be your choice, just like it was David's choice and Divad's choice."

"Do you want to go back to your bedroom?" David asks.

"No," Dvd says. "You destroyed it. If you make a new one, it won't be the same."

"Dvd," Divad says, concerned.

"Leave me alone," Dvd says. "Just— Leave me alone." He stands up and walks over to the door to guard it. "You two do whatever you have to do. I'm the one who keeps us safe, so that's what I have to do."

David relays to Ptonomy, and Ptonomy nods. "Cary, can you put a chair by the door? Dvd needs to sit there."

"Of course," Cary says, and brings one over. David directs him to place it where Dvd is standing. Once Cary stands back, Dvd rolls his eyes but sits down in the chair. He doesn't say anything, but he does look a tiny bit less defiant.

"You wish," Dvd mutters, hearing his thought.

"What now?" Divad asks, and David relays.

Ptonomy looks at the clock. "Now we have dinner. Dvd, would you like to join us?"

"I don't need to eat," Dvd says.

"Neither do I. Neither does Amy or Divad. We'd still like your company."

Dvd pointedly doesn't respond.

"Kerry and I will go get our order," Cary says. He turns to Dvd. "You keep everyone safe while we're away, okay?"

Dvd gives him the finger. David tactfully declines to relay it to Cary.

Chapter 45: Day 8: They're all weapons, all these friends. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

This whole therapy thing is a bad idea. Everything is a bad idea.

Dvd watches everyone sitting around the table together, eating and talking, and he knows it's all bullshit. They're all in denial, pretending that Farouk isn't peering into their minds, prying inside them for weapons he can use to hurt them and hurt David. The whole idea that any of them can help is such a joke, and when the punchline comes, it's going to be on him and Divad and David, like it always is. David can't remember, Divad doesn't want to, but Dvd always remembers. He knows a disaster when he sees one and everything is a disaster.

The world is totally going to end. Dvd has no doubt about that. None of them can stop it. Even dying wouldn't stop it, or Dvd would have done the merciful thing already and killed their body. Farouk wouldn't let David die while he was inside him, and yeah, Dvd's glad of that, because killing themselves would have ended the pain but death is bullshit, too.

Dying didn't save Lenny. It didn't save Amy or Ptonomy. It didn't even save Melanie, and the fact that she's breathing doesn't make her any less of a corpse.

He wasn't really going to make David kill himself. He just wanted David to suffer the way they've suffered. He wanted David to share the pain they used to share. He wanted David to be David again, instead of this— Fake. Trick. Mocking illusion.

Dvd's such a liar. It's a lie that David is a different person and it's a lie that he'll ever be the same. Seeing him, hearing his thoughts— Even if David wasn't suicidal, even if David truly accepted them, it would still be torture because the David they knew is never coming back.

Dvd just— He needed to get away. He needed to make it stop. He needed to be somewhere else, somewhere safe, and now the one safe place he had is gone because Fake David destroyed it. And Dvd can't even be mad at him about it because Fake David tried to make it up to them just like Real David used to. He thinks the same thoughts as he always did. Because he is the same person, even though he'll never be the same.

Dvd could have said yes. David would have made a new bedroom for him. Dvd knows he would have made it and it would have been just like it was, and that David would have let Dvd go there and never come back. Because that's what David was always trying to get them to do: go into the bedroom and stay there until it was safe to come out again, until the latest horror was over. But the horror is never going to be over and they promised to never make him face it alone.

He won't leave David to face this horror alone either. He won't break his promise even if David doesn't even remember that they made it, even if they couldn't keep it for a decade. Maybe that makes Dvd the stupid one, maybe that's his delusion: that if he keeps remembering the way David used to be it will keep him alive. Maybe that's just the latest torture the shit beetle is putting him through. Memory has always been the monster's favorite weapon, and making David forget and Dvd remember has always been his favorite way to use it.

But like most of the monster's tortures, Dvd's doing it to himself. He's staying even though it's agony because it would hurt even more to leave. He's sitting here, pretending to guard the door when doors don't matter to the monster. Only David matters. So he's guarding David and he's considering Farouk's armory.

They're all weapons, all these friends. Everyone who gets close to David is a weapon whether they want to be or not. Even Dvd is a weapon. Divad is definitely a weapon, but Dvd's been keeping a close eye on him for a long time. He knows exactly how Divad can hurt David and he knows how he'll hurt him again. He's a known quantity.

It's everyone else that needs evaluating.

Sometimes Dvd thinks Divad was right, yelling at David to give up wanting things and loving people. All these people, all these relationships, all these complicated emotions. They think they're helping but David's never been more vulnerable because every single one of them is a knife pointed at David's heart, waiting to be shoved deep and twisted.

Syd's the obvious place to start. She's been quiet since she fucked things up, but it's only a matter of time before she fucks things up again. She should keep reading her stupid book instead of staring at David with all that quiet regret. Quiet regret never did anything for anyone. He shouldn't have let Divad talk him out of making her leave, but— Her leaving would bring David to his knees, and then Farouk could really get his claws in deep before he sent her back to hurt David even more.

Kerry's watching Syd, too. Kerry has a mean right hook and sharp feet and not a single clue how dangerous their situation is, but she knows a threat when she sees one. She could be useful if Syd needs to be taken out. But she's a weapon, too, and even if she punched him and kicked him, Dvd doesn't want her to suffer, but more than that he doesn't want her pain to happen to David.

Ptonomy is a lot easier to read now that he has a real face. He doesn't trust Syd either. He hides his feelings — probably because he thinks that will help him outwit the shit beetle — but he's just kidding himself if he thinks he can outwit an omniscient monster. It doesn't matter that no one can read Ptonomy's mind. The shit beetle can read everyone else's mind and that's more than enough. What happened in the desert is proof that having a secret plan doesn't mean shit.

Ptonomy does play his cards close to his chest, Dvd will give him that. He keeps everyone busy with all this therapy and helping. He keeps them distracted. So Ptonomy is definitely up to something in that mainframe. The shit beetle must know it, too. So Ptonomy better watch his back because the moment he's a real threat, he's gone. The fact that he's still here is proof that he's doing exactly what the monster wants, even if he is dead. Death doesn't mean shit. The monster doesn't need Ptonomy to have a body to torture him forever.

Dvd doesn't see Cary as much of a threat. The shit beetle barely bothered with him before now, but he was just the lab guy to David, poking and prodding him like every other lab guy in the history of lab guys. Making Cary and Kerry swap was the kind of evil the monster loves: easy to make happen and absolutely agonizing for everyone else to live with. The shit beetle is so fucking lazy, always making everyone else do his dirty work for him. He thinks he's clever but he's lazy, parasite-lazy, living off everyone else's hard work.

Whatever. Fuck the shit beetle, fuck him.

Where was he? Oh yeah, Amy.

Fuck Amy, too.

Don't get him wrong, he's glad David made up with her. Just like he's glad that David's making up with Syd. Whatever stops David from torturing himself with grief and regret is fine by Dvd. But none of that has shit to do with Dvd. Amy didn't know he existed until now and that was fine. It was better that way. Dvd's job is to keep David alive, and Syd was wrong, all these extra people only make his job harder. It was easier when they only had one or two of them to deal with at a time. Their family was always there like background radiation, eating away at David with their sadness. But all three of them knew the safest thing was to avoid getting close to anyone but themselves. David forgot that, so there was Benny and there was Philly. There was Lenny and there was Syd. Now everyone who's left is together at once, and there's new people. Kerry and Cary. Ptonomy. Oliver and Melanie.

Melanie's a corpse, but death doesn't mean shit. The shit beetle has her soul tucked away somewhere, just like he had Amy's soul tucked away. He'll bring her back when he has a use for her. He'll probably use her against Oliver. Oliver's barely here as it is. He doesn't seem like much of a threat but that's the kind of threat that's the most dangerous of all. Oliver's a powerful telepath but his mind is weak. The shit beetle's already lived in his head and knows it from the inside. Not that the monster needs Oliver's powers now; he's got his own body back and nothing can touch him. But he's still a lazy parasite who won't do anything himself if he can make someone else do it, so Dvd's keeping an eye on Oliver, too. Dvd wouldn't mind if Oliver never came back. Dvd needs to think if he's going to figure out how to keep David safe, and it's hard to do that when he has to guard his thoughts from the mainframe.

Lenny's still tucked away in the mainframe, staying out of the way, but she's absolutely going to be a problem. She's been a hell of a weapon for a long time, and there's no way the monster is giving her up now.

And then there's this place. Division 3. They're playing with them again, sending Clark to say nice things to David to lower their defenses. Dvd's not falling for it. He fell for it with Syd but he's never falling for it again, especially not with these murderous psychos. When people say nice things he knows they're doing it because they want something from David. They want to use him and hurt him. They're all parasites, all of them, too lazy to do their own goddamn dirty work so they make David do it for them.

David won't say no. He hasn't been able to say no since college, not to anyone he trusts. He just rolls right over no matter what they tell him to do. It drove Divad absolutely insane having to watch that. It drove them both insane having to listen to David's twisted rationalizations, his thoughts tying themselves into vicious knots as he desperately tried to reconcile his blind faith in everyone around him and the terrible things they told him to do. They thought they were asking but they were telling because the monster made sure David trusted everyone but himself.

David even trusted Benny. David can't remember Benny anymore. If he did, he wouldn't want to save him from the monster. Benny was an absolute piece of shit who took advantage of David at every opportunity. He stole David's meds and his money and anything of his that looked worth trading for drugs. Philly did her best to stop it and so did Amy, but they blamed David, thinking it was the drugs that made him stupid. It was the shit beetle that made him stupid. The drugs were just another way he made David hurt himself.

If Dvd could go back in time, he would go back to the first time David saw King and he would launch the dog monster right into the sun. Those stupid memories— Dvd's so furious about the memories it makes him want to end the world himself. They didn't know exactly what the monster did to David. They knew he forgot a lot, almost everything. Forgetting Dvd and Divad and his powers meant he had to forget almost everything. But they can't see David's memories like they can hear his thoughts. They don't know what the monster left behind unless David thinks about it. David's thought about his memories a lot, but— In those memory walks, the memories were wrong. They were changed or pieces were missing. But they'd have to be, because David's real memories were full of his powers and his brothers, and Farouk took those away.

The monster didn't like David looking too closely at his memories. He really didn't like anyone else poking around in David's head. Dvd saved them by getting them out but they kept going back in. Idiots. They should know when they're being saved from a monster. They should be grateful and then they should get the hell away before it's too late for them like it's too late for every single person in this room. In this building. On this planet.

That's one of the reasons why, even if the rest of this therapy stuff is pointless, Dvd is willing to help with the memory work. Not just so he can find something that will help David remember them, but because if the shit beetle didn't want them poking around, poking around is exactly what they need to do as much of as possible. Which is why it's frustrating on top of frustrating that David swore off remembering. Dvd doesn't want David to remember all that pain, but— The truth is that David needs to remember. David needs to remember if he wants that tiny bit of hope he has to actually mean something, instead of meaning shit.

The shit beetle is listening, but all he can do is listen. As much of a disaster as their system has become, it's theirs again. For the first time, really. The shit beetle was always getting in the way even before he got in the way. He was always trying to pull them apart even though he knew he could never truly pull them apart. He'll never stop trying, Dvd's absolutely sure of that. Which is why Dvd's sticking around even if sticking around is torture. The worst torture would be if he let the shit beetle win.

David thought he could guard himself from Divad and Dvd. He still doesn't understand how they work or he'd know that Dvd is the one who guards him from everyone else. He'd know that Dvd is the one making sure nothing gets in. Even with the crown, he's making sure of that. Their powers are still here. David doesn't realize that because he barely understands their powers anyway. If he did, he'd know he couldn't make the white room without their powers. He'd know he couldn't destroy their bedroom without their powers. He'd know that Divad couldn't emotionally regulate him without their powers. He'd know that's how Divad and Dvd are visible to David. They're not hallucinations and they never were.

But Dvd isn't going to tell David that their powers still work. If David figures that out, he'll do something stupid again, like he stupidly destroyed their bedroom. He'll do something stupid like killing their system. These friends of his don't understand their powers either if they think the crown is doing anything to keep David from killing their body. All the crown does is stop them from using their powers outside of their body. That's why they can't read minds or make the world do what they want it to do. They're trapped inside their head, but that doesn't mean they're trapped, except that the whole world is a trap.

The crown can't keep David from stopping their heart with a thought. But he thinks it can, which is good enough for Dvd.

Dvd can't stop the shit beetle from prying into their thoughts. It would almost be worth getting the crown off and risking David doing something stupid just to keep the monster from listening in. But the monster doesn't need to hear their thoughts to know what they're thinking. Let the shit beetle know exactly how much they all loathe him. Let him know they're all plotting against him. He knows it anyway. He can listen all he wants but he can't get inside. He can't touch a single one of David's memories anymore. He can't touch Divad or Dvd. They're not safe but he can't touch them. He'll find some way to hurt David, and that will make David hurt them. That's how this works, that's how the shit beetle operates.

The monster made David forget, but Dvd remembers everything. And even if he doesn't, he remembers enough. He's not letting down his guard for a moment. He wishes he could. He'd let David make him a new bedroom and he'd go there and sleep for a month. He'd have David make him a whole house and a garden and Dvd would spend all his time there alone, growing vegetables. Dvd didn't care if they went to live on a farm or not, but all of them loved the garden. They loved being with their mother in her garden.

They didn't know David forgot about their mother. They knew David forgot a lot of things but it wasn't like they could ask. David couldn't hear them for years. They got expelled and their life fell apart and David hung them and they ended up sedated in a mental hospital. The doctors barely asked David about their mother, even though her death devastated them. That was fine, Dvd didn't want David to talk about her to them anyway. Kissinger was a creep. Dvd was glad when he saw that Division 3 had locked him up. Good riddance.

Ptonomy is a lot better than Kissinger, Dvd will give him that, too. David really was the burning, toxic disaster he thought he was when Ptonomy started on him, and now David is— At least no longer actively on fire. Still a toxic disaster, but that's nothing new. His whole explanation of their system was— Shockingly accurate. Dvd knew all of that already but hearing it all summed up like that from someone who isn't even part of their system was—

No one's ever known them like that, no one. Not their parents or Amy, and certainly none of the idiot doctors who did nothing but torture David and make him worse. But Ptonomy figured them out. More than that, he figure out things about them that they didn't know.

Dvd's still not sure what he thinks about this whole delusion parasite. It's not a literal parasite, not like the monster was, but— It helps David to think of it that way, as a living thing they have to fight. It's a vivid image, that's for sure, and one Dvd's not going to forget anytime soon. Dvd's creeped out just thinking about it. He doesn't buy the rest of it. They want to die because their life is fucking miserable, what other reason do they need? Same with the rest of it. The world is a shitty place full of victims and monsters. That's the truth. David's the delusional one, trusting people he shouldn't trust because the relationship he remembers more than anything else is the one he had with a dog that wasn't even real. That's what's fucked up. If David was like he used to be, he'd know not to go trusting people left and right. He'd know that the only people he needed were the other parts of him. That's how they worked, but David forgot.

Dvd was really too mad to pay attention to David's thoughts when David barged his way into their bedroom, but— When they left, David was a mess. He'd barely managed to not go away, he swore off remembering, he moped his way through the morning, and the only thing that cheered him up at all was reading one of those tedious magazines. Syd's fuckup should have sent him into another spiral and it probably did. But when David showed up— He came to find them and bring them back. He figured out how to get to their bedroom on his own. He blew the damn thing up, which was shocking on a dozen levels, but— The David they left that morning couldn't have done any of that. He was barely functional the way he's been barely functional for days.

And more than that, David didn't reject Ptonomy's explanation. He didn't try to ignore it or forget it. He's still thinking about it now, turning it over in his mind, trying to absorb and understand it. David is— He's actually trying to accept that he's an identity in their system. That's the one thing about all of this that made Dvd need to sit down on his own and think for a while instead of stewing in his anger like he usually does.

The one thing that's kept Dvd going is the hope that one day they'll get David back. That once the monster was out, David would remember them and everything would go back to the way it was before college. Even if David was a toxic disaster before college, he was their toxic disaster and they took care of him and protected him and shared everything with him all the time. They were as close to a single person as their system could ever be. Divad had even stopped being angry at David, and not the way he is now, because he's turned himself off. They were happy together, they were. Life was actually okay, it was good.

It's no wonder the monster chose that moment to rip them apart. The monster always loves waiting for the perfect moment. He left them alone just enough to trick them into letting down their guard. That's what he's doing now. That's what he always does.

Dvd's never letting his guard down ever again. He learned his lesson and he'll never forget it.

The shit beetle knows Dvd wants David back. He knows that's the one thing that Dvd can't help but want. He knows it'll kill Dvd if David wants to be with them and they reject him, and he knows that if they accept David back it's only leaving them wide open for a knife to stab deep into their heart and twist.

But that's what the shit beetle does best. He makes them hurt themselves because it would hurt even more if they didn't. He turns them against each other and once the knives are in deep, he makes them twist the handles themselves. It's always the same. This time will be the same, too.

But for David, Dvd will let his heart be stabbed. He'll grab that handle and twist as hard as he can. He knows that will be the only choice he can make. But he'll only do it for their David. And if David accepts them, if he gives himself to them the way he always did, then he'll be their David and nothing else will matter because the three of them being together was the only thing that ever mattered.

But David hasn't accepted them yet. He's still someone else, someone Dvd's heart doesn't know. His heart won't be stabbed for this David. So until that miracle happens, Dvd will stay on guard. He'll keep watching everyone and most of all he'll keep guarding David. Because that's what he was made for, protecting David. He forgot that for a moment but he won't forget it again.

Chapter 46: Day 8: And why should I let you save him? (Divad, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

It’s been a long time since Divad had to just— Talk. To people. He used to do it all the time when he covered for David, but he spent the last decade trapped with Dvd and the most they could do for conversation was tense, angry shouting.

Not much has changed for the two of them since the monster left.

Yet here he is, sitting at the table with a bunch of people who are trying to hold a conversation with him even though they can’t see or hear him. That’s definitely different. They’re probably imagining another David sitting next to David, mouthing the words David relays for him like he’s a muted television with the subtitles on. He’s watched a lot of muted television with subtitles over the past six years.

"Divad?" David prompts, concern in his thoughts and his voice. "Cary asked you what card games you and Dvd like to play."

"Ah, double solitaire," Divad says. They started playing it ages ago as a joke, but it stuck. They played triple solitaire with David, but he doesn’t remember that. "Rummy, war, 52 pick-up." The last is another joke. Cary and Kerry both get it but not the others. Amy doesn't get it because it was their private joke and they didn't share it with her. David should get it. It was his joke.

"52 pick-up?" David asks, not getting it.

Divad pulls a deck of cards from his pocket and holds it out. "52 pick-up," he drawls, and tosses the cards over David like confetti. David flails at the cards even though they pass right through him. "Pick em up."

"Hilarious," David rolls his eyes, amused and annoyed, exactly how he always rolled his eyes, and it makes Divad’s heart hurt.

Divad pushes the pain away like he’s been pushing so many feelings away. It’s started to make him feel numb, suppressing so much of himself, but he’s survived worse torture with worse numbness. As long as he’s still— Passable, he’ll be fine. Of course, it’s been a long time since there was anyone who cared if he was fine. Or knew he existed to care.

He’s fine. He’s got this. He’s managing his own emotions just like he’s managing David’s. Not that David needs help right now, even though David was falling apart when Divad left to chase after Dvd and didn’t come back.

He should have come back even if Dvd didn't want to. Staying in their bedroom was a mistake. If he'd just come back, David wouldn't have destroyed it. Divad wanted to bring him to their bedroom properly and tell him all about how it helped them. David made it for them to help them even though the monster kept him from going into it himself. They'd pulled David into it in the desert because the situation was desperate, because they were angry, because David was falling apart even though they were back and helping him again. They needed to help him more. That's how they’ve always worked.

But David doesn't remember how they work.

"Cary and I always played a lot of word games when I was inside him," Kerry tells them, then looks to Cary. "We haven't in a while, but— Maybe we could play one now."

"That's an excellent idea," Cary says. "You pick."

Kerry thinks. "How about— Pill-based neuropsychiatric medications, listed alphabetically. I'll start: Abilify."

"Brintellix," Cary says, and looks to David and Divad. At the empty chair beside David.

David looks to Divad, at a loss. Divad shrugs and looks at Cary. "Medication was never something we liked thinking about." Because they were forced to take it. Because they were guilted and manipulated into taking medication for a disease they never had. Every single day they had to swallow down things that hurt them while other people watched them take it. It was just another one of the monster's tortures.

David relays that, oblivious to the truth behind it. After the monster made David forget, David believed he was schizophrenic, that he'd always believed he was schizophrenic. He took the medication believing it would help him. He accepted all the treatments, believing they would help him, and all the while Divad and Dvd screamed the truth at him but he couldn’t hear them.

David knows now that he was never schizophrenic, but he doesn't know the rest. They could tell David everything now, but they can’t because telling David the truth hurts him. That’s why Divad didn’t go back even though he knew that David needed him. Trying to get back what they had, trying to resurrect the past — David barely survived all of that the first time through. Making him live it all again would be too much. It’s already been too much. They’re supposed to protect David, not torture him. They know better than to fall for the monster’s tricks but they did anyway because David can’t survive not knowing, either. He needs to know.

The best they can do is go slow. Give him a little of their past at a time so he can absorb it safely, even though going slow is too much and not enough at the same time. Dvd keeps accusing Divad of lying to David, but Dvd lies to him, too. They have to lie to him because telling him the truth would be worse. And of course the monster knew it would be that way. He left knowing their system was so wrecked that it could never recover. He couldn't force them back into David and he couldn't destroy them so he destroyed their life forever by destroying David.

Almost. Almost destroyed, and not never. They let themselves think it was never. They tried to leave their system but— David wouldn't let them. David's still fighting to come back to them and that means they can't give up on him. They went through hell together and never gave up on each other. They're still in hell and they're still not giving up.

Amy and Syd and Ptonomy start suggesting other games, but David's attention drifts from the conversation. It's hard for him to stay engaged when he has so much on his mind, so many thoughts jostling around in his head, vying for the limited mental energy he can spare. He was run down before they left and whatever reserve of strength he was able to tap into, he spent it getting them back and then enduring Dvd's fury. He's exhausted but forcing himself to stay with his friends, with Divad. He's desperate not to dissociate, not to go away; he believes them to be the same thing and maybe they are. Maybe, as David thought the other day, going away is a form of suicide. Maybe hiding in their bedroom was, too. Abandoning their system definitely was. Divad thought it would be for the best, to let David be with his friends. Their friends, because their friends did everything their system couldn't. They got the monster out and they made David better and they showed him that he's part of his system. Dvd and Divad couldn't do any of that.

Before, when David tried to think about their system, his thoughts would recoil from the idea like it was poison. It hurt deeply to be rejected by David that way, again and again. And even when he stopped recoiling in horror, thinking his life was over because of them, he still wouldn't reject the delusion the monster put inside him that he's always been alone inside himself, even though he knew for a fact that he was never alone. Divad recoiled from being compared to the monster, but thanks to the monster that was the only way David could even begin to understand them.

But slowly, a little at a time, they're killing that delusion, that parasite. It's getting weaker now, so weak that David's able to spend that limited mental energy on them: on his brothers, on their system and how they all fit together inside it. Three parts of a whole, three matching pieces in a three-piece jigsaw puzzle that fit perfectly together. They're good, healthy, nutritious thoughts, and every time David thinks them, the delusion weakens and he gets stronger. Their system gets stronger.

Divad keeps quiet, listening to David's thoughts, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he lightens his iron grip on his emotions, allowing himself to feel— Relief. Joy. It's— Terrifying to let himself feel those emotions again. It feels like hoping will only bring disaster. It probably will, but— David has hope, and that means they all have hope whether they want to or not. David was always the one who hoped for them, even though he suffered the most. He wasn't as open and trusting as he is now, the way the monster made him be, but— He was never as angry and cynical as Dvd is, or as cold and logical as Divad knows he can be. David always hoped and loved and dreamed despite having absolutely no reason to hope or love or dream. That could be infuriating, but it was also infuriating when David gave up hoping and loving and dreaming. Divad isn't angry now because he shut his anger down because he finally realized that Dvd was right. David can't take Divad's anger, not anymore. He couldn't really take it before college either, but he took it anyway. And David can't even remember Divad's anger to accept his apology for it. So if Divad has to suppress his anger for the rest of their life, that's what he'll do. He won't end up like Dvd did, so consumed by fury that he tries to talk David into suicide — not now that he accepts that he already did.

David thinks it isn't fair that Divad and Dvd can hear his thoughts but he can't hear theirs, that they remember everything but he doesn't. David wants to help them the way they help him. But David doesn't remember how they work. It's their job to keep him safe. It's their job to cover for him and share his life so he can live. It's their job to know the things it would hurt him too much to know. That's how they survived and that's how they have to be to keep surviving. Even if things can never go back to how they were, some things haven't changed, they can't change. They know what's best for David, and that's what's best for David.

David's thoughts are slowing, the day catching up to him even as he finishes his dinner. He's forcing himself to eat like he forced himself to eat breakfast, trying to stay with everything he has. But he needs to rest. He certainly doesn't need to wear himself out for Divad's sake, relaying his words to people that are only making the effort to hear them for David's sake. So when David starts nodding off, Divad nudges their hypothalamus, triggering inhibitory signals and hormones that will quiet David's mind and their body.

Amy sees David falling asleep and uses her Vermillion to hold him up. "David," she says, giving him a shake.

David rouses, fighting the sleepiness that's pulling on him. "Hmm?"

"Time to go to bed," Amy says, like she used to. Divad might have suppressed his anger at her, but he still remembers how much she used to mean to all of them. David does too, and feelings of safety and home wrap around him like a blanket.

David looks at the clock on the wall. "It's too early," he slurs.

"We were early birds, remember?" Amy says. "Early to rise, early to bed."

Divad waits, holding back until Amy's coaxed David to say goodnight and get ready for bed. But once David is under the covers and looking sleepily at the Vermillion, Divad nudges again and David's eyes fall shut. He starts coaxing their body toward slow-wave sleep. He'll let David cycle but extend his slow-wave sleep throughout the night so that their body can restore itself and restore David with it. Their brain will work as David sleeps, helping him to think and remember more clearly than he ever could when they had a monster in their head. But he has to make David forget, too— Forget the intense nightmares that torture him every night. Divad keeps them from waking David up, and as long as David doesn't wake up, he forgets them. And as long as he forgets them—

Divad spent years figuring out how to stop the nightmares and help their body sleep. The monster wouldn't let him use that knowledge, but he can use it now. Their mind is their own and the monster can't hurt them from the inside anymore. Dvd makes sure of that, guarding their body as Divad works to heal the damage the monster left behind within it. There's so much to heal, but they've made a start.

He hopes that someday soon David will have a good dream and it will be safe for Divad to let him remember it. Maybe it will even be a dream about being with his brothers. But it's not safe to let David remember any dreams, good or bad, because the monster doesn't need to be inside their body to hurt David. Dreams connect their body to the vast subconscious of the astral plane, and Farouk used that link to visit David once already. He's still using it to send David nightmares, just like he did when he was inside them. Divad can't guard David's dreams, but he can guard his memory. As long as David doesn't remember, whatever happens in his dreams simply goes away. Farouk can shout all he wants, David can't hear him.

Divad is sitting in the chair next to the Vermillion, and when Ptonomy comes over, he stands and gets out of the way. But Ptonomy doesn’t take the chair.

"I'm guessing Divad is sitting next to you," he tells Amy. "Divad, you just made David fall asleep, right? I know you can't answer me. I know David needs to sleep and you're only trying to help him. But you need to talk to David about what you're doing to him before you manipulate him like that. He's had enough choices taken away from him already. You have to let him make decisions for himself."

Divad doesn't bother to reply. There's no way for Ptonomy to hear him and even if he could, Ptonomy doesn't understand how they work. David needs help so Divad helps him. That's how they fit together.

"When Oliver comes back in the morning, I want us to have our first session," Ptonomy says. "I want us to have it through the mainframe so David can't hear it. I want you to be able to speak honestly with me and I think you're not comfortable doing that if David can hear you. If that's a problem, we'll talk about it once we can speak privately." He turns back to the table. "Syd, you'll be up after that."

"We're really filling up your schedule," Syd says, wryly.

"My dad used to say we'll sleep when we're dead," Ptonomy replies. "Turns out he was wrong. In the meantime we should all get some rest." He looks towards the door. "You too, Dvd."

Dvd’s reply is a raised middle finger.

§

They should all get some rest, Ptonomy included. But Ptonomy has one more person to talk to before he can go back into the mainframe for the night, to rest and think and plan with Amy and Lenny.

He takes the elevator up and walks to the room Division 3 gave to Amahl Farouk. He knocks on the door. Farouk is expecting him — not just because he's always listening, but because Ptonomy asked Clark to arrange the meeting for him.

Ptonomy expects the monster wants to talk to him now that he's found a way to help David without torturing him. Farouk visited Syd twice for daring to help David in a way that went against Farouk's plans, and he hurt her both times in revenge. Ptonomy's done letting Farouk hurt people, so here he is, willingly walking into the lion's den. He doesn't have a god to close this lion's jaws, not yet, so he just has to hope his faith is enough: his faith in himself, in David, in the love David shares with the people who love him back.

Ptonomy always preferred his mother's Dàoism to his father's Christianity; she's the one who gave him his first copy of Sun Tzu's The Art of War. But being dead and facing off an omniscent, god-like monster puts Ptonomy very much in a biblical frame of mind.

The door to the suite opens and swings wide. Ptonomy walks in to find a very— Un-Division 3 environment. The only thing left of the old decor are the hexagon windows. All the hard, modernist lines are gone, replaced with— It looks like something that would have been the height of style a century ago and thousands of miles away. Chinese Chippendale chairs made of bamboo, a zebra skin rug, a shelf of leatherbound books with the embossed titles too faded to read. Oversized urns and classical sculptures of the heads of Greek gods. On a pair of high-legged armoires are shaded lamps, tall candles, a clear glass orb, and a stone nautilus, its mineral cirri extended. The bed and kitchen are gone, but there's a tray on a stand with a used cup and plate. Division 3 has been providing room service.

It's easy to forget how old Farouk is because he doesn't look like he's been alive since the nineteenth century. He's an old monster, outdated; he doesn't belong in their world. He doesn't believe that, but he's been trapped inside of David Haller's head for thirty years, making David believe anything Farouk wanted him to believe. Farouk thinks their world is as soft and malleable as the inside of a child's developing mind. He thinks he can sculpt one of his terrible sunrises for seven billion people. Ptonomy intends to prove him wrong.

The monster himself is sitting comfortably at the center of the room, facing a perfectly empty wall. Presumably the only entertainment he needs is David's suffering and he wouldn't want anything to distract from that. He's still wearing the same suit and sunglasses he wore in the courtroom a week ago, but everything about him is immaculate.

"I see you've done some redecorating," Ptonomy observes. He doesn't close the door and Farouk leaves it open. That's fine. Ptonomy doesn't intend to stay long.

"I decided to made myself at home," Farouk says, with his usual placid menace. "You have all been so generous to me. So giving. But— Schönheit ist überall ein gar willkommener Gast. Beauty is a welcome guest everywhere."

"Goethe," Ptonomy recognizes. He quickly searches the mainframe for the original German. "Die Wahlverwandtschaften, if I'm not mistaken."

Farouk grins, baring his perfect teeth. "And here I thought I had returned to a cultureless world. Or has death transformed you? Le grand renouvellement."

"The grand renewal," Ptonomy translates for him; he doesn't need the mainframe for that. "You could call it that. But we're not here to talk about me."

"David," Farouk says, drawing out the name like he's savoring a morsel of fine cuisine. "Yes. Please, doctor, tell me about our patient. How is his progress? Is he 'better' yet?"

"I never got a doctorate," Ptonomy says. The route he took to becoming a therapist in Summerland was far from conventional, but so was everything about that place. "And you don't need me to tell you how David is doing. You know that better than anyone."

"True," Farouk admits. "Then tell me, what do we need to discuss? You're the one who asked to speak with me."

"I'd like to discuss David's treatment."

Farouk pauses with exaggerated consideration. "Have you come to seek my advice? As you say, I do know him most— Intimately."

Ptonomy ignores the way that makes his stomach turn. "You've voiced concerns about his treatment twice before. I thought it best to address any new concerns now, before they're a problem. You are a part of David's therapy."

"I am his jailer."

"You're also the person keeping him alive."

Farouk chuckles. "Perhaps we should discuss you. You're much changed since the last time we met. I was quite surprised by your sudden compassion. Of all of David's friends, I thought you would be the most eager to kill him."

"Is that why you killed me?" Ptonomy asks. The insanity monster had clouded his thoughts for days before its paranoid delusions took full hold of him — the same days that Farouk and Future Syd were using to chip away at David's sanity and support. "I had the least sympathy for David. If you'd left me alone, I would have stopped him before he got out of control."

"Would you have?" Farouk asks, skeptical. "You think very highly of yourself. Perhaps I simply needed an incubator. A convenient body to breed in."

In the mainframe, Ptonomy shudders in horror. But he doesn't let it show on his new face. "Maybe," he allows. "I'm just another ant to you, right? All of Division 3, we're just— An ant farm you're keeping. You like to watch us scurry around, building our colony, but you could wipe us all out with a wave of your hand."

"Such honesty," Farouk says. "It's refreshing."

"Honesty is important," Ptonomy replies. "You know the truth and so do we. You might be the one keeping David alive, but only so you can use him to end the world. Division 3 won't let that happen."

"More arrogance. The ants can do nothing to stop the crush of the giant's boot."

"They can if they have a giant, too."

"Then you do intend to save him from me?"

"I intend to help David save himself," Ptonomy says, calmly. "To help him love himself."

Farouk grins again. "Love," he says, amused. "Do you know what love is? Have you seen it, the chemicals in the brain? Love is electrons, signals sent this way and that. Love is the great delusion afflicting the ants. Love is what eats David alive and love will destroy him."

"Then will that be a problem?" Ptonomy asks. "For love to be his treatment?"

"The ant thinks he is clever," Farouk says, his smile growing more menacing than amused. "You come here as if you have the right to address me, your god. Do you think you can do this because you're safe from me? I promise you, you are not."

"I'm aware of that," Ptonomy says. "But you're not anyone's god."

"I am David's god," Farouk says. "And so I am god of all the world."

"That's your arrogance."

Farouk clenches his jaw, then forces himself to relax. "You think love can save him from me? Nothing can save him from me. He is my creation, my child. He is clay. Or— Putty, like the kind you pressed against the newspaper as a little boy in your mother's kitchen. You press the putty against the page and look, there is the little cartoon, copied perfectly. But then you crush the putty in your hand and voilà! The cartoon is gone."

Farouk probably intends the memory of his mother’s death to upset him. But Farouk doesn’t know him very well if he thinks remembering is something he’s afraid of.

Ptonomy knows Farouk has been inside his head. He knows Farouk must have read his mind while he was hiding inside of David, and that he had the chance to do it again when they were all in the fantasy Clockworks together. Ptonomy has listened to David thinking about that time, about how Farouk changed their minds with their own buried truths. Back then, Ptonomy didn't like David or trust him. But in the fantasy Clockworks, Ptonomy was David's best friend, like Lenny used to be. That was the truth Ptonomy didn't want to face: that deep down, he did like David, he did want to be his friend and protect him.

But Ptonomy barely registered as important to David then, so he wasn't important to Farouk either. Farouk stuck the knife in but he didn't bother to push it deep. He didn't bother to force Ptonomy to twist the handle. It took Ptonomy's own death and resurrection and David's near-destruction to finally make him see that truth.

"No," Ptonomy says, certain. "The ink isn't gone, it's inside the putty. Everything you think you've taken away from David is still inside him. I meant what I said to him. He's incredibly strong to have survived. You're out of his head now and he can use that strength for himself. He can turn it against you."

"And why should I let you save him?" Farouk challenges.

"Because if you don't, David will kill himself," Ptonomy says, putting every ounce of truth behind it. "Your threat to our lives won't be enough, not when weighed against the world. You pushed him right to the edge, thinking you could break him in just the right way. But your chisel slipped and you shattered him. You can't find the sculpture in a pile of rubble. You could make David forget, but that would mean undoing all your hard work, and where's the challenge in doing it again? It would be dull and you don't like dull."

"You think you know a great deal," Farouk says, irritation peeking out from his placid facade. "You think you understand David because you’ve heard his thoughts? I know everything about him. I know everything he has forgotten, every fantasy and fear and the secrets he keeps even from himself. You think he is free of me because I'm outside of his body? I'm part of him, like the parts of himself that he thinks are other people. We are one, David and I. Our separation is a delusion. You entertain it, like you entertain his delusions about his sickness."

"And what do you think his sickness is?" Ptonomy challenges.

"He has so much sickness," Farouk says, with the delight of someone looking over an assortment of chocolates. "But these diseases you name for him, they're irrelevant. He is mad. Insanity is his curse and even I could not cure him of it. David understands the consequences of this. He knows his madness dooms him. But you feed it. You grow his delusion and ensure he will never be whole."

"David is already whole," Ptonomy counters. "He just needs to accept and love himself."

"Another delusion," Farouk says, dismissive.

"You saw how compassion helped him."

"David is clay," Farouk insists. "He is so soft even you can mold him. He lets your ideas into him only because I designed him to receive mine. You think you have given him hope? He has hoped countless times before. You think love will spare him from pain? Love is the surgeon’s blade. Hope is salt, giving flavor to his despair as it burns in his wounds."

Ptonomy takes this in. "Then we're in agreement about his treatment? You won't interfere?"

Farouk shakes his head in amusement. "This word 'compassion,' do you know where it comes from? C'est francais. It means, originally, 'to suffer with.' So yes, by all means, continue to suffer with David and to make him suffer with you. Feed his delusions. When David returns himself to me, I will save my greatest compassion for you and you alone."

"I'm sure you will," Ptonomy says. "Until then I'll do everything I can to help David love. Maybe you're right, maybe I’m right. The only one who can make that decision is David."

"This conversation has become dull," Farouk warns, his mouth in a thin line.

"Thank you for your time," Ptonomy says, and walks out.

"Fuck," Lenny swears, staring at him in the mainframe. "Did you have steel balls before you were an android?"

Ptonomy's knees are weak. He leans against the wall, commanding his body to return to the lab while also letting the wall hold him up. "What did Clark say? We’re used to mouthing off to unstable gods."

"You just dared him to destroy the mainframe and torture you."

"But he didn't." Ptonomy straightens. "Farouk thinks David is his, but we just took him back. David’s ours. We’ve got him and we’re not letting him go. Farouk needs David alive so he has to let us save him. He had to make that choice because we took his other choices away. He can’t define what better is for David because we’re giving David the chance to define himself."

"I can't believe that worked," Lenny says, shaking her head.

"We couldn’t have won this without you," Ptonomy says. "You told us what Farouk made you say to David about love. You helped us realize that love isn't just what David needs, it's Farouk’s blind spot. He's a sadistic psychopath. He's cruel, overconfident, and demands gratification. He's a malignant narcissist who thinks he's the only real person in the whole world. Love is— Unimaginable, to someone like him. He can stare it in the face all day long but he can't see it."

"I hope we’re right," Amy says.

"Like I told Farouk, the only one who can decide that is David. But I believe our love will save David, and that David will save the world."

"I believe that, too," Amy says, hopeful. "Lenny?"

Lenny shrugs. "Guess we'll find out."

Chapter 47: Day 9: What kind of person did he show you how to be? (Divad)

Chapter Text

The relay comes back on at dawn when Oliver sits up and stretches.

Part of Divad hoped that Oliver wouldn’t come back to them. His relay has helped David and Divad is grateful for that, but— Divad doesn’t need help. He agreed to talk to Ptonomy for David’s sake, not his own. He’s got himself under control and he doesn’t need other people listening in on his thoughts.

Ptonomy’s probably listening in already, and Amy and Lenny, too, and Division 3 and whoever else is tuned into their freak show.

Divad could refuse to cooperate. He could do what Dvd is doing and lock himself down so he doesn’t have any thoughts worth overhearing. But Divad’s never been the self-isolating type. He and David faced the world together while Dvd watched their backs. That’s why the monster made him invisible and inaudible for a decade. Divad survived that torture by turning himself off, it’s true. He’s still surviving however he can. But—

"You don’t want to be invisible anymore," Ptonomy says, his voice coming in through Divad’s mind and not the quiescent android sitting across from him in the other loveseat, still in the illusion of sleep.

"I guess we’ve started," Divad sighs.

"David’s still asleep," Ptonomy says. "I’m sure you’re keeping him asleep. Does he still need it?"

"Another two hours," Divad says. David needed to rest yesterday and instead he wore himself out again. "I’m only helping him as much as he needs me to. That’s how we work."

"That’s how you used to work. David is a different person now."

Divad frowns, annoyed. "Shouldn’t you be the last person to believe that?"

"David is still David," Ptonomy assures him. "He always has been and he always will be. But he has changed."

"The monster changed him."

"A lot of things changed him, including himself. Do you think David shouldn’t be able to change himself?"

"We help David because he made us to help him. We do what he can’t do for himself and he does the same for us. We’re a system, not three strangers who happen to be sharing a body."

"You’re strangers to David now. And he’s a stranger to you."

"He just forgot," Divad insists. "He forgets things. He’ll remember again when he’s ready."

"I hope he will," Ptonomy says. "But right now he doesn’t remember. How would you feel if someone outside your system tried to control you?"

Divad glares at the android, not caring that it can’t see him, that Ptonomy can’t see him even with all of Division 3’s cameras at his disposal. "You know very well that that’s all anyone has ever done to our system. You’re doing it now."

"I’m trying to help you like you help David. I’m trying to keep you from making mistakes and hurting your system. That’s what you do, isn’t it? Dvd protects your system from the world and you protect it from itself. You manage your body and the minds inside it."

That’s what David made him for, but it didn’t work out that way.

"Because of Farouk," Ptonomy says, answering his thought.

"No shit because of Farouk," Divad says, borrowing Dvd’s surly grumble.

"He turned you against your system," Ptonomy says. "He made you hurt David, so Dvd had to protect David from you. What else did he do?"

"You know what he did," Divad says, unwilling to repeat it. It was hard enough thinking it knowing his thoughts would be heard.

There’s a pause as Ptonomy thinks, or maybe reviews his recordings. "He stopped you from helping. He isolated you from your body and from David. And now— You have it all back so you’re helping as much as you can. That’s a noble impulse, but there’s such a thing as helping too much."

"You wouldn’t say that if you knew how much help David needs. He’s sick. He’s sure as hell too sick to heal himself."

"If you want him to be strong, he needs to heal himself. He needs our help, but only for stabilization and support. He can’t stand without us, but he can’t walk if we’re holding him down."

"Cute metaphor," Divad says. "It might mean something if David was actually the whole person the monster made him think he is. Relying on each other is how we work."

"Because you’re not each a whole person?"

"Finally, he gets it," Divad drawls. "David, Dvd, and me, we’re a system. We’re parts of a whole. We do what David made us to do. Farouk messed that up, sure, but that’s why we have to put everything back the way it was meant to be."

"David wasn’t meant to be broken," Ptonomy corrects. "He was meant to be a whole person all by himself."

"We’re not going anywhere," Divad tells him, annoyed. "The monster couldn’t get rid of us and you sure as hell can’t."

"I don’t want to get rid of you. But David is a whole person and so are you and Dvd. Each of you is a whole, full person. You’re more than the ways you’ve survived. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t always be there for each other and support each other when support is needed. But your lives can be about more than what David needs."

"You sound like Syd," Divad says, suspiciously. "What, you think we should play games and get hobbies? Protecting David is how we survive. We barely have time to sleep."

"You could sleep when David sleeps. You could share that with him."

"It’s not safe. And even if it was, David doesn’t want us in our body," Divad says. "The monster took that away from us. So no, we can’t share that. We can barely share anything and you have no idea how much that hurts. It was bad enough when it was the monster doing it to us, and now—" And now David is the one torturing them.

"You should talk to David about that."

"Yeah, that worked out so well last time," Divad drawls. They left because it hurt too much to bear, and now they have no escape at all.

"Yelling at David and storming out isn’t talking," Ptonomy says. "You like to think of yourself as the rational, logical part of David."

"Dvd’s the one who yelled and stormed out," Divad corrects.

"But you chose not to come back. You might have a rational explanation for your decision, but that’s not why you made it. You left David because he was hurting you. He didn’t mean to but he did. Just like he hurt you when he forced you to come back. Just like we hurt him when we forced him to stay and get treatment. We learn how to act from the people around us. David keeps his pain a secret because everyone keeps their pain secret from him. He tries to help but hurts because he makes decisions on behalf of others, because that’s been what everyone has done to him for his entire life. David is deciding what kind of person he should be now that he has the chance. What do you want to teach him? To suppress his emotions? To hurt people by helping them without their consent? That it’s okay to lie to himself and the people he loves?"

"Have I mentioned that I hate your telepathic therapy?" Divad asks, bitterly.

"But you’re fine with forcing David to endure your own version of that," Ptonomy counters. "You guard your thoughts from him while listening in on every single thought he has."

"I tried to leave," Divad says. "The bedroom was the only way we had to not listen. That’s gone."

"But you still have the ability to let David hear your thoughts. You could make your relationship with him an equal one by being as vulnerable with him as he is with you."

"We can’t," Divad insists. "David can’t know what we know. That’s how we protect him."

"That’s how you used to work," Ptonomy allows. "But if it was meant to keep David safe, we all know that it didn’t. Nothing kept David safe. There was nothing any of you could do to truly keep your system safe, not then. But you can now. Your old relationship with David was destroyed along with his memories of it. David is trying to start a new relationship with you and Dvd. Start it with him. Make a new system from the ashes of the old one. An equal system made of three whole people, not three pieces."

"That’s not how we were made to be," Divad says, stubbornly.

"Then adapt," Ptonomy says, firmly. "That’s what we’re all doing. That’s what everyone has to do all the time. David’s had to adapt to an enormous amount of change, but he’s doing it because he doesn’t want to go away. He doesn’t want to kill himself or end the world or do anything that will hurt the people he loves. He’s trying to not hurt you and Dvd, but he needs you to tell him the truth about your system and how it works and how it’s broken. He needs you to show him a better way to be. The three of you can build your new foundation together or you can keep hurting each other. It’s your choice."

"I see you’re learning from Farouk," Divad grits out.

"I am," Ptonomy says. "But not the lessons he wants me to learn. He was a powerful presence during your formative years. What did he teach you? What lessons of his are you holding on to? What kind of person did he show you how to be?"

Everything in Divad rebels at the thought of the monster being part of him. That’s David’s fear, not his. But— They’ve always shared everything. They shared David’s hope and his torture. The monster was deep inside of David and so it was deep inside of them, too. It lived in their head and changed them and fed off their powers and their pain.

And as for their formative years, Divad and Dvd had their parents and Amy, they know other ways to be even if they haven’t been able to be them. But David barely remembers their parents. The monster didn’t want David to remember them because— Because Farouk wants to be the only kind of person David knows how to be.

"That’s right," Ptonomy says. "Once you understand that, you also understand why it’s so important for us to all help David together. Why it’s so important for us to be better ourselves. Love and respect are the things that will save David and help him become the person he was truly meant to be. Not a victim or a villain, but a good person who loves others and is loved in return. A hero who makes the world a better place — not because he thinks he knows what’s right and forces it to happen, but because he asks people what they need and helps them make it happen. Do you think David deserves that? Because you told David you don’t think he does."

"That’s never gonna happen," Dvd says, from his chair by the door. "The shit beetle just heard all of that so it’s never gonna happen."

"That’s okay," Ptonomy says. "He already knows. I went to him last night and told him."

"Are you out of your dead mind?" Dvd yells, standing up. "Get that crown off our head right now, before it’s too late!"

"Farouk agreed not to interfere with David’s compassion therapy," Ptonomy says. "Or yours or any part of your system's treatment. Without love, David's shame will kill you. No one wants you to die."

"If you think you can trust the shit beetle, you’re insane," Dvd says.

"This isn’t about trust, it’s about a mutual goal. We all need David to heal. In the state he’s in, he can’t end the world or save it because he’d rather end your system. So he has to get better. We have to show him how to get better."

"Insane," Dvd declares, sitting back down again.

"I think we’re all a little crazy," Ptonomy admits. "But the world is a crazy place. It’s up to us to make it what we want it to be. So Divad, Dvd, what do you want your world to be? What do you want your system to be? I want you both to think about that while David sleeps. Maybe two hours will give you enough time to make your decision together."

"I told you, I’m not doing your stupid therapy," Dvd says.

"I know. And I’m respecting that. But you did agree to group therapy for your system. This is part of that. So do it for David, if you can’t do it for yourself. Divad, how about you? Will you give it a try?"

"You’re asking a lot," Divad tells him. "A hell of a lot." They’d have to give up the very things that help them survive. They’d have to hurt David and their system. They’d have to put everything on the line with nothing to protect them from the monster.

"I am," Ptonomy admits. "But I’m going to tell you the same thing that Syd told David. She’s made mistakes too, but she’s trying to get better because she doesn’t want to make them again. She believes David is worth saving. She loves you, too, both of you, because she loves David and you’re parts of David."

Dvd snorts angrily but Ptonomy continues.

"Before we got Farouk out of you, your system never had a chance. He only let you think you did so it would hurt more every time you failed. I know that you're afraid, but we wouldn't be talking about this now if there wasn't any hope. For the first time, your system can truly make the choice to get better. We'll all be here with you, fighting every step of the way, but you have to take that first step. You, Divad and Dvd, both of you. You're the only ones who can do that. And you can do it because you’re here and alive and you have that choice. You can get better for David’s sake but I think you should do it for all of you, for your system’s sake. For the three whole people in that system who love each other with everything they have. Your system wouldn’t have survived without love. Trust that love to save you now that it finally can."

Divad sighs. "I’ll think about it. I’ll talk to Dvd, but— I can’t make any promises for me or him. And— If you mean it, all that stuff about respect, then you’ll respect us enough to give us privacy. At least until David wakes up."

"That’s fair," Ptonomy agrees. "I’ll do you one better. I want the three of you to talk about the relay together and decide if and when you want it back."

"What if we never want it back?" Divad challenges.

"Then Oliver and I will respect your system’s decision. The whole reason we made the relay in the first place was to hear you. As long as you can’t share your system’s body and David needs the crown, the relay is the only way for anyone but David and Oliver to hear you. And you don’t deserve to be trapped inside of David, silent and invisible to the world. You didn’t deserve it before and you don’t deserve it now. So please, don’t torture your system that way. Don’t do to yourselves what the monster did to you."

§

"Come on," Divad says. "Ptonomy's right, we have to talk about this. It's safe now, the relay's off. Oliver and Ptonomy even left the room."

"Like it matters if they're in the room," Dvd grumbles. "They're all spies, listening in on our thoughts. We can't trust them."

"David trusts them."

"David trusted his drug dealer," Dvd shoots back. "You spent, what, seven years stewing about that? And now you've turned yourself off so you don't care."

"I turned myself off because I care!" Divad says. "You were right, okay? I let the monster make me hurt David and I couldn't stop myself. I finally figured out how to stop myself so you should be happy about that. You should be delighted."

"Yeah well I'm not," Dvd says. "It's bullshit. You're lying to David and me and yourself. Don't ever expect me to be delighted about that."

"What do you want me to do?" Divad asks. "David forgot everything about us but he remembered my anger and it drove him to suicide. When you got that cord off his neck, you didn't save him from himself, you saved him from me. How am I supposed to live with that? But David needs me. You want me to be honest with David? How's he going to react to that, huh? Is that going to help him accept that we're a system? The only reason he trusts us at all is the same reason he trusted Benny. We came back and we were just voices in his head but he still trusted us and let us tell him what to do. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

"Of course I do," Dvd says, angrily. "And David already knows you're angry with him. You've been yelling at him since we got him back. You told him he didn't deserve love."

"I said we don't," Divad corrects. "None of us do. David thought we did and that's what got us into that whole mess with Syd. He's right, we should have stayed in Clockworks."

"You know what?" Dvd says. "Maybe you should keep yourself turned off. If you say any of that to David, you'll make him try to kill himself again."

"You shouldn't talk to David either, then!" Divad throws back. "I just want us to stop making mistakes. You're the one who actually told him to die!"

Dvd stands up and walks away, physically pained by his guilt. He doesn't do guilt, he does anger. He rounds back to Divad. "You want a mistake? That was my mistake, but I did it once. Once! I'm never doing it again. You've been blaming David for everything for years. You only stopped blaming him because he got so sick he couldn't function enough to make mistakes anymore. He needed you so much all the time and that gave you the excuse you needed to be the one in charge."

"David was still in charge," Divad defends.

"Liar."

"We were happy," Divad insists. "You were happy. David needed you just as much. We protected him together. We did everything together. He was grateful."

"Yeah," Dvd admits. "And how fucked up is that? I don't want anything to do with that fucking robot but he's right, David's different now. The monster did what we couldn't do, he made David better. He had to or he couldn't have taken us away. And now we're back and all we've done is make David worse. We got him back and we made him worse just so he'd need us again. How am I supposed to live with that?"

"We didn't mean to," Divad says. "We were trying to help him. If he'd just told everyone the truth in the first place—"

"You're doing it again," Dvd says. "You shut yourself off and you still can't stop. He trusted Syd more than anyone else and she told him not to tell. She might as well have ripped out his tongue."

"He told Syd and he told Farouk," Divad points out.

"Future Syd and Syd are the same person and he nearly sprained himself telling her. And Farouk— Thinking about that club is the last thing any part of David needs."

Divad walks away and comes back. "Fine. He couldn't tell anyone. I get it."

"Let it sink in real deep," Dvd growls.

Divad glares at him. "You know what? Ptonomy was wrong. Love can't save our system because we don't have a system. We're just— Three strangers who happen to share a body."

"Go and tell that to David, too," Dvd says, bitterly. "We'll be right back where we started and David will be begging Division 3 to kill him again. Is that what you want? David wants to die because he thinks he doesn't deserve to live. I say fuck the world, it deserves to end. What do you want? Tell the truth."

"I want the torture to stop," Divad says, tightly. "I know it's the monster's fault, but— If we were stronger, if we stopped making the wrong choices all the time, he wouldn't be able to make us hurt ourselves. You lash out, David fantasizes or blames himself, you're both always making things worse. And I am, too. I make things worse because I know we're making mistakes but I can't save us and that makes me angry. We saw our future and I still couldn't save us and— And I just wanted us to stop. Maybe— Maybe you're right. I do want us to die."

"I told you," Dvd says, but there’s no satisfaction in Divad finally admitting what was obvious all along.

"So now what?" Divad asks. "The monster’s gone. We could kill our body, save the world. I’m sure you have no objection to Syd and Amy being tortured forever."

"We’re not killing David," Dvd says, putting his boot down hard on that idea. "I don’t give a shit about his friends or the world, but I’m never giving up on David." Not again.

"Fine," Divad agrees. "You stay and I’ll ask David to make a new bedroom for me. I don’t want to leave, but— I can’t trust myself not to hurt him."

"You hate being stuck in the bedroom," Dvd points out. "If you leave now David will blame himself. You’ll be torturing both of you and that will torture me. So no, not an option." Coward. Dvd's not giving him a way out of this. It's his mess as much as theirs, they all have to face it together.

Divad sighs in frustration. "So we’re trapped."

"We’ve always been trapped," Dvd says. "These people are delusional if they think they can make a deal with the shit beetle."

"They want to save us."

"They can’t."

Divad throws up his arms. "You just said we can’t kill our body and we can’t leave David. What’s left?"

Dvd closes his eyes, curses. "Therapy," he says, like the word itself is poisonous. It feels like poison, like a fate worse than death. Ptonomy's going to insist that Dvd work through his anger and open up and that might as well be a death sentence. Except dying is the only way out. Dvd would take it if it didn't mean taking David with them. The only thing worse than living is the thought of David dying. The whole point of their existence is to keep David alive. The monster took everything else from them but he couldn't take that. And then Dvd almost made it happen himself. The monster was gone but David was torturing them and that was even worse, that was absolutely unbearable. But David wouldn't let them leave just like the monster wouldn't let them die, and Dvd—

Dvd snapped. He snapped just like David snapped, trying to make Syd love them again. Like David snapped after Ptonomy told him about his DID and he begged Clark and Cary to kill them. It took thirty years of torture to make Dvd snap because he's the strongest and because David is the only one the monster actually cares about. The monster doesn't really bother torturing the fragments David broke away from himself. He uses them to hurt David but he doesn't care about them for themselves because they aren't real. They're just more of David's delusions, his madness. That's why he let them go to the bedroom, that's why he let them remember. The shit beetle must have laughed and laughed, making David forget everything while two parts of him remembered. What a joke they must be to him.

Divad's always been the weakest link. He snapped so long ago and he never un-snapped. He was supposed to protect David and Farouk made him hurt David instead. Dvd was furious about that but protecting David mattered more than helping Divad. Dvd got why David broke, David was always breaking and healing and breaking again. But David had them to heal him, to keep him going no matter what. Dvd didn't need help, but— Divad did, and no one helped him. David couldn't and Dvd didn't want to.

If Dvd had turned on David years ago, if he'd hurt David over and over and been unable to stop himself from doing it— He didn't get it until now, because he'd always stood by David no matter what the monster did. Because he's the strongest one, he has all that justified anger to protect them with and it protects him the most. Divad is just— Logic, rationalization, self-control. It's no wonder he broke so early. He's all about control and he can't even control himself, much less David, much less Dvd, much less the monster who controlled all of them.

Dvd looks at Divad, really looks at him instead of just glaring at him. He really thinks about him instead of reflexively wishing him dead for hurting David.

If Divad wanted to stop David, to make David kill their body— He was trying to stop and kill their system. Their whole system has wanted to die for a long time. They told themselves they stayed alive for each other, but now Dvd knows they stayed alive because the monster wouldn’t let them die. Dvd was never strong enough to stop the monster, so— That means the monster wanted him to save their body, because it was his body too even though he was just a passenger in it. He was being lazy again, making other people do the hard work.

It’s humiliating, realizing that. It’s infuriating and completely humiliating to have been— Manipulated. Tricked into believing he was saving them when the whole time—

For the first time, Dvd gets why Divad turns himself off. If he could stop feeling this without killing their system, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

The shit beetle needs David alive. He needs David to be David so David will love him. Dvd wants to carve out the shit beetle's eyes for daring to look at David and think of love. The shit beetle wouldn't know love if it stabbed him in the heart. He doesn't know love like Dvd knows love. Dvd has loved David his whole life; that love wavered exactly once, but only as a reminder to never let it waver again. Dvd's love is steadfast and unconditional.

But Divad is a part of David, too. And Dvd stopped loving him. He wasn't steadfast or unconditional for Divad. He was— He was like Syd, only loving the part of David he wanted to love, punishing the part of their system that let them down.

Dvd never wants to be like Syd. Syd hurt David so much. Syd made David help the shit beetle. She made David go to the club. She let Amy die, and Dvd hates Amy but he hates David's grief even more. Syd was just like the shit beetle, manipulating David and hurting him and making him hurt himself. That's what the shit beetle did to all of them. He made them all just like him, even Dvd.

Dvd thought he'd never been broken, not like his brothers were, because he never turned on David. But— He must have been because he's supposed to protect their whole system, not just David and himself. He broke and he didn't even know it. And what was the last decade if not he and Divad brokenly torturing each other? And being able to protect David when Divad couldn’t only made Dvd hurt Divad more, righteously rubbing Divad’s failures in his face.

They all want the torture to stop, but they're the ones doing it. The shit beetle sets them up but they're the ones who actually make it happen. He's too lazy to do it himself so he makes everyone else do it for him. But if they're the ones doing it— Then maybe they can make it stop.

"Divad," Dvd says, trying with all his might to set his anger aside. "We need help."

"I know," Divad says, tersely.

"Not— To stop the monster," Dvd says. "To stop hurting each other. You can't stop hurting David and— I can't stop hurting you. And that's— That's what he wants us to do. You know that. We all know that."

Divad stares at him, startled by Dvd's sudden empathy. Then he looks away. "You only hurt me because I hurt David."

"There you go trying to control everything again," Dvd says. "You couldn't hurt David for all those years. I tortured you anyway. I couldn't stop even though the monster forced you to stop. It was wrong and—" He has to do this, he has to do this. If Syd could do this, so can he. "I'm sorry. I was wrong."

Divad stares at him again. Then he blinks. "Is Dvd the one in our body right now? Because Dvd never apologizes. That's what David does."

"I'm making a big effort here," Dvd says, tersely. "Don't push it."

Divad looks over at David's sleeping form. "I know you're only saying it for him."

"I'm saying it for all of us," Dvd says. "I'm saying it because— I don't want to be three strangers who happen to share a body, okay? I want us to be brothers. I want us to be a system that isn't a burning, toxic disaster. I want us to not be actively on fire. So this is me, putting out one corner of the flames. Or trying to. That's— That's how this stupid therapy thing works, right? We don't have to fix everything at once. We just have to try— Fixing something. That's what David does, anyway." He shrugs. "Seems to be working for him."

"You're the one who never needs help," Divad points out. "You're the strongest, the one who protects everyone else."

"Well apparently I'm not perfect," Dvd says, tersely. "Shocking, I know. Rub it in my face, I don't care. You might not care about our system anymore but I still do. I should have cared about it more. I should have protected you and not just David. I fucked up, okay? So I have to fix it."

Divad gives him a long, considering look. "You do," he says, finally. "But I have to fix it, too. And so does David. If we're a system, then— We're supposed to share everything."

"Yeah," Dvd says, roughly. He looks over to David. He misses David so much. He's right there and Dvd misses him so much.

He's not the one who cries. David's the one who cries. But Dvd wipes at his eyes anyway.

"We'll get him back," Divad says.

"Should I be telling you that?"

"We're supposed to be thinking outside of what we're supposed to do," Divad reminds him. "You don't always have to be the strong one. And— I don't always have to be the realist."

"Pessimist," Dvd corrects.

Divad sighs. "Pessimist," he accepts. "Whatever, I don't have to be it, apparently. So— I'm going to try to be— Not that. David's hopeful. I want to try being hopeful."

"Now I know we're fucked," Dvd says. He doesn't want to feel hope. Hope is deadly. The only way they've survived has been anger and denial and shame.

But they didn't survive. That's what Syd said, what Ptonomy said. They didn't have a chance and all the ways they thought they survived— They were just more ways for the monster to hurt them. All the ways they thought they were protecting themselves, all they were doing was— Letting the delusion eat them alive.

"You know how you kept telling me and David we're delusional?" Dvd asks. "I think we all are. Our whole system is— Infected."

"The delusion parasite?" Divad asks.

Dvd nods. "David's friends got the other one out, right? Maybe they can get this one out, too."

"That's what David thinks," Divad says. "He's trying to fight it. But he's not very good at doing anything on his own. He needs his system."

"He needs his brothers," Dvd insists. Then he frowns. "I wish he remembered everything already. We could just— apologize and move on and be better. Instead we have to rip him open just so he can have the same wounds as us. And we have to rip ourselves open, too."

"He doesn't have to know."

"If he doesn't know, that's more ways the shit beetle can hurt him," Dvd says. "If we don't tell him, the monster will find a way to make him remember. Memory is his favorite weapon. He made David forget so much. What if he makes him remember?"

"The memories aren't there," Divad says. "Not the ones David suppressed, but— The damage is physical. I'm doing everything I can, but it's going to take time to heal our brain. And whatever the monster ripped out, there's no way to put it back. Not unless he found some way to— To save it."

Horror comes over Dvd. "Like he saved Amy."

Divad is just as horrified. "Amy was a bomb, buried deep inside of Lenny. And the longer it took to find her—"

"It's been ten years," Dvd says. "If David keeps remembering—"

"We have to talk to Ptonomy," Divad says, urgently. "Shit, the relay is down."

"But Oliver can still hear us," Dvd says. "Oliver! Hey, Oliver! OLIVER!!!"

"You called?" asks Oliver.

"We've got a huge fucking problem," Dvd says. "Turn that relay back on, we gotta talk. Oh, and tell Ptonomy he's got another patient. Fuck the shit beetle, we're all getting better."

Chapter 48: Day 9: Love makes us weak. (David)

Chapter Text

David's sitting in a chair, surrounded by equipment and activity. Kerry's attaching electrodes to his head while Cary bends over a computer, brow furrowed with concentration. Oliver has a chair pulled up next to him and has his brow furrowed as well as he telepathically searches David's mind. Syd can't see them, but apparently Divad and Dvd are also helping out, trying to protect David from whatever Farouk might have left inside him. Ptonomy and Amy are in the mainframe looking at David's old brain scans while their androids sit at the table, eyes closed.

David is, quite honestly, keeping remarkably calm. He does have Divad helping with that, but Syd thinks it's more that he's used to being everyone's lab rat. Calm isn't the same as happy, though. David is definitely not happy about any of this.

Syd can't get closer to him than this, not without getting in the way of everyone else. She doesn't have medical experience and she can't read minds. Swapping souls did help with Amy so she's not so much benched as in reserve, but it's not a hidden soul that's the problem, it's hidden memories. They were ripped out of David years ago but Farouk wouldn't have thrown away something he could use to torture David. He uses every part of the cow. He might have butchered David's memories, but David's life before college was— Divad and Dvd won't say what it was, but it wasn't anything anyone should have to relive, much less all at once, much less David, who at this point can't bear to remember anything at all.

Syd would offer to hold David's hand, but— She doesn't know if that would be a good idea. She thought it was yesterday, but she was wrong. Or she was right, but— She was wrong, too. She hurt as much as she helped because David needs her but her presence still makes him hate himself. A lot of things make David hate himself. Every mistake he's ever made feeds the delusion that his torture was a rightful punishment and not just— Other people's cruelty. Their mistakes, their actions made with intentions good and bad.

She knew what he thought of himself. He didn't like talking about it, not with her, but it slipped out anyway. He told her that he thought he was worthless, that he was monstrous, that he wasn't worth loving. She heard him but she didn't understand. She thought she could love him enough to make him love himself, and she was wrong but she was right. According to Ptonomy, love and compassion are exactly what David needs so he can learn to have compassion for himself.

But she told David that their love made him weak. She pushed him away, trying to make him stand on his own, because she was mad at him: for depending on her, for not being with her, for not being strong enough to save the world. Because she was afraid of what he is, now that they know what he is: a mutant with incredible mental powers, so much power that the only thing strong enough to stop him is the monster that wants to use him to destroy the world.

In Clockworks, Syd loved David. She loved that sick, helpless, starry-eyed David and wanted him to get better so he could leave with her, even though she knew he was never going to leave. And then they both left in a mad, terrifying, exhilarating rush, and when the dust was just starting to settle, he was gone. Ptonomy was right: in that long, long year she looked for David, she realized that he wasn't her David at all. She wasn't just angry with him for being gone, she was angry with him for being a lie, for never having been the man she loved, for being an illusion.

Farouk always hurts them with the truth.

She thought he was weak and she was his protector. But he was always stronger than her and protecting her, even when he didn't know it. And that— She doesn't like that. Not just because of his powers. It puts her on edge, being protected, being the weak one, being helpless. She doesn't do helpless, she never has. She'd rather do the wrong thing than let the wrong thing happen to her by doing nothing, by being a victim.

She didn't want to be a victim in Clockworks so she chose to be with the biggest victim of all. With someone who was sweet and handsome and clearly liked her and was so medicated that he could barely tie his shoes. He did everything she told him and that made her love him, because she thought obedience was the same thing as respect. And it was, but— It wasn't.

David never had a choice; Farouk made sure of that. And that means— Farouk might have loathed the love she and David shared, but he needed it, too, so he could use that love as a weapon. Their love was just another part of the cow to him. That's why he kept them around in the fake Clockworks. David needs love to survive, but Farouk needs that love or he won't have anything to play with. That's why he lets them do all of this, all this therapy and helping and support. The closer they get to David, the more and sharper weapons Farouk has at his disposal to butcher David once he's healed. Maybe he thinks the mistake he made before was in letting that love weaken before he could use it. But it was weak because Future Syd was already using it for her own revenge on David.

Syd's not strong enough to stop Farouk from using her, not yet. But she won't be his victim again. She'd rather rip herself apart on her own terms than let the monster blow her up. She knows David would, too, which is why he's enduring all of these violations of his mind and body. None of them want to be Farouk's victims or weapons.

Syd promised David that this time would be different, that they wouldn't make him suffer living if there wasn't any hope of finally freeing him from the monster for good. But it's not enough for David to make the choice to get better. She has to get better. She has to or Farouk will make her his victim forever, one way or another.

They all have to get better. Everyone who loves David and David loves, they'll either save him or destroy him. Maybe both. Syd's done both, so has Amy, often in the same breath.

But if the truth is Farouk's weapon of choice, it's also what will save them, if they're strong enough to face it before he can turn it against them. Ignorance won't shield them; he's already looked into their minds, he knows them better than they know themselves. He knows their secrets and their secret fears. But he doesn't care about them for themselves; that's why he mostly leaves them alone despite all the damage he could do. He only cares about David. He only sees them as parts of David, not whole, separate people with their own lives. That's even how he sees himself: that when he went inside of David, he became a part of David, inseparable. Not that David became a part of him or even that they became part of each other.

What did David say Farouk called them? Villain and hero, monster and prey, torturer and victim. And the moon and the sun. In all those other roles, Farouk is the aggressor, the powerful one that David reacts to and suffers under. But David is the sun. The sun and the moon, they look the same size from the surface of the earth. That's how eclipses work. But it's an illusion. The moon is so much smaller than the sun, so much weaker. It can't make its own light, it just reflects it. It's a kind of parasite, trapped in the sun's gravity while pretending the sun's power is its own. And the moon is big, its gravity is strong enough to make the ocean sway, but— it will never be the sun, no matter how hard it tries.

If Syd chooses to be with David, if David chooses to be with her, she'll never be stronger than him. She's not even as strong as Farouk, not in terms of their mutant powers. In that dark future she's trying to avoid, she let her fear of that power win. She might have had good intentions, trying to save the world, but she acted with cruelty, she delivered the punishment she thought David deserved. She could have done so many other things that would have actually saved him and stopped anyone from ever getting hurt, but she wanted him to suffer and she didn't care who she had to use to make that happen, even if that meant using herself. She made David betray himself and betray her, just to twist the knife she'd already stuck in his heart. And David let her. He didn't have a choice not to let her.

The truth hurts, it all hurts, and she's barely started to face her own truths. She's facing the truths she shares with David but that won't be enough. Even if Farouk only cares about them as parts of David, he'll use every part of them he can. He's obsessive, delusional, sadistic, but he's patient and meticulous and he's always listening. So they need to listen too, to themselves and to each other. Syd can't look inside of David's mind, but she can look into her own. She can look at everyone else and help them get better, too. Not the way she tried to help David, she knows that was wrong, but— Maybe if she can learn to help herself, she can learn to help someone else, before it’s too late.

§

It's going to take a while for everyone to finish searching David for whatever memory bomb is inside him, so Ptonomy returns to his body and pulls her out of the lab to have her session. Syd sits at the table in the garden and tries to clear her head. It's hard not to worry — she's so worried — but there's nothing she can do right now. Ptonomy told her to put her energy into herself and that's what she's been doing. That's why she's here, trying to be better so she doesn't keep making the same mistakes.

"He'll be okay," Ptonomy assures her, even though she didn't ask.

"Let's not talk about David," Syd says, tightly.

"Okay," Ptonomy agrees. "Let's talk about you. Is there somewhere you'd like to start, or should I start for us?"

Syd can barely think about herself at all, much less figure out what she needs to work on. "You start."

"Let's start with Melanie," Ptonomy says, calmly. He's not as gentle as he is with David, who these days looks like he'd keel over from a stiff breeze, but there's no trace of the anger he used at their last session. He did say he wouldn't make things easy for her. "I looked through her notes. Her biggest concern was your fear of abandonment stemming from your mother's emotional abuse."

Ah. Definitely not easy. But wrong.

"I wasn't abused," Syd says, her voice tight for a different reason. "My childhood was unorthodox. My powers prevented me from having touch. That's why I've been working on my haphephobia. That's why I got Matilda." She could use Matilda right now. David could probably use her, too.

She has to stop worrying about David and focus on herself. That's been her mantra since yesterday. It doesn't have the same punch as 'I'm here and I'm not alone', but— She has to focus on herself.

"You made good progress with Melanie," Ptonomy allows. "But you stopped too soon and you've been coasting ever since."

"Coasting?" Syd says, insulted. She can hold Matilda for hours. She can hold hands with people and not want to run screaming.

"I recognize how much progress you've made," Ptonomy says. "But we're talking big picture here. I think you stopped your sessions because you were afraid to keep going. Melanie was pushing for another round of memory work and you didn't want that."

"I don't need memory work," Syd says. "I remember my whole life just fine."

"Memory work isn't about recovering memories, it's about facing them from a new perspective. It's a chance to see yourself as you truly were, not as you remember yourself being. Those are very different things. When you were trapped in your head, in your maze, you were in your past."

"I don't remember my maze," Syd says. "And I thought we weren't going to talk about David."

Ptonomy pauses, thinking, or maybe looking at something in the mainframe. It's hard to remember that he's not actually here with her. "When you both woke up, we asked you what happened. You didn't want to talk about it and neither did David, but he needed something to distract him while he waited for us to finish interrogating Lenny. He described seeing your life before he found you and woke you up. I think the things you showed him, the loop of your childhood and adolescence, I think that was your maze. I think when the monk died and you came back to yourself, you were able to take control of it. You repurposed it, changed it to teach David the lessons that you were already being forced to teach yourself."

"And those were?" Syd asks, challengingly.

"That love makes us weak," Ptonomy says, still with that same calm. "That pain is necessary, even essential to survival. That the world is a cruel, unforgiving place, and if we want any justice we have to be the ones to deliver it."

"What was your maze again?" Syd asks, coldly. "Something about flowers?"

"My core desire was to forget everything but the singular now. I think what's just as important is why that was my desire. I couldn't forget. Not just my own memories, but the memories of other people. I've spent my life helping people with traumatic memories, and every memory I walked through, that became mine, too. That's a lot of trauma, and even though I told myself it wasn't mine, my body didn't listen. I carried so much anger inside of me because of those memories. My core desire was to be where trauma could never exist. Somewhere without memory, eternally beautiful and peaceful."

Syd stares, taken aback.

"Being dead gives me a lot of time to think," Ptonomy continues. "When I lost my body, I lost my powers, but I also lost the trauma my body held. I can forget here, like everyone else. I miss my powers, but if I had the choice, I don't know if I'd want it all back. In a way, that memory work was-- Me abusing myself, giving myself pain I knew I'd never be able to forget. And I was in denial about it, so I didn't get the help I needed to process that pain. Processing isn't about remembering and forgetting. It's about allowing ourselves to know our own truths, to feel them fully and accept them as part of us. Let's talk about your truths."

"What, my foundation?" Syd asks, recognizing the phrasing. "I don't have a foundation."

"We all have a foundation. We usually build it when we're too young to know that's what we're doing, but it determines the course of our lives. It defines our world, whether we're aware of it or not." Ptonomy holds out the notebook and pen he brought up with them. "This is your notebook. If you need to write something down or make a sketch, put it in here, not anywhere else. Don't ever use David's notebook again."

There's that anger, the sharp, warning edge of it. Syd accepts the notebook without a word.

"Let's get started. What do you believe about yourself? What do you believe about the world? We know one idea: love makes us weak."

Syd presses her lips together, annoyed, but she can't deny that's how she feels. She tortured David to make him believe it. Love makes us weak, she writes.

It's unsettling to see it written down so plainly. She's always believed it, absolutely, but-- Maybe it's that now she knows how much damage that idea can do. She thought it was a universal law but she was wrong, there’s at least one exception.

“You taught David several of your truths,” Ptonomy continues. “Write those down, too.”

He doesn’t prompt her with those other truths, expecting her to know them. Syd reminds herself that she has to do this so she can’t be used to end the world. She has to rip herself apart so the monster can’t.

“Pain makes us strong,” she says and writes. “Life is war.” She looks at the three sentences. They feel deeply true. “Is this my foundation?”

“It’s part of it,” Ptonomy says. “A big part, but there’ll be other ideas. We need to find out what they are. And then— We can figure out which of your ideas need to change.”

Syd riles at that. “You want to change who I am.”

“So do you,” Ptonomy counters. “That’s how change happens, real change. We understand ourselves and our ideas and we teach ourselves to believe new ideas, ones that will help us be the people we want to be. Farouk forced his ideas on you in the desert and you ultimately rejected the ones that weren’t yours. I can help you create your new foundational ideas but only you can accept them and build on them.”

"Sounds like an organ transplant," Syd mutters.

"Then think of therapy as surgery and me as your immunosuppressant. Whatever helps you accept what we're doing here. People only get organ transplants because their old organs are killing them. They need new, healthy ones to survive. They can't get them from themselves, they have to depend on others for those new organs, they have to depend on doctors and drugs. Survival is extremely important to you. I'd say it might even be another part of your foundation. What do you think?"

Syd grits her teeth and thinks. She does have to survive. And accepting help, letting other people have control over her, even for her own good, she loathes it. She absolutely does. "I have to survive," she says and writes, and then: "I don't need help."

Those two ideas feel just as absolutely true as the first three. But the last one-- Apparently she can survive an apocalypse, but can't protect herself from everything. The world is full of powerful monsters, stronger than her thanks to their mutant DNA or money or politics. She couldn't protect herself from her own fears because she didn't let herself acknowledge their existence. She didn't know how dangerous Clockworks was, she didn't know David and Lenny were protecting her there, that being a white protected her. She couldn't stop herself from being thrown into Clockworks in the first place.

She recognizes another idea, but it's not compatible with the rest. She wants to reject it but she can't.

"What's wrong?" Ptonomy asks.

"David's foundation-- He thinks he’s starting from scratch. So— He hasn’t put all his truths into it.”

“That’s right,” Ptonomy says, impressed. “Eventually he’ll be strong enough to face his old assumptions. They’re still inside him, just like his traumatic memories. But he needs to build a new identity first because Farouk destroyed his old ones. You don’t have that problem. Your identity is solid. But that means you have to do the work of pulling out the parts of it you don’t want, and you have to keep yourself from crumbling if those parts are structural.”

“Now I’m a building,” Syd mutters.

“I’ve got plenty more metaphors if you don’t like those,” Ptonomy smirks.

Syd sighs and looks down at her notebook again. She wants to add her sixth idea, but she doesn’t want to write it. She doesn’t want it to be part of her.

“So what’s wrong with your foundation?” Ptonomy prompts.

"I don't need help," Syd reads. "But I know that's wrong. I know it, but-- I don't believe it."

Ptonomy nods. "What else? There's something else."

He really wasn't kidding about not going easy on her. "If we can believe things but know they're wrong-- Can foundational ideas be things we don't want to believe?"

"Absolutely. We collect ideas as we grow. Just like David, we accept the world as it's presented to us, good and bad. The world is full of contradictory ideas and so are we. It's not necessarily a problem, unless those ideas are harmful or combine to be harmful. So what idea did the world present to you? What did you accept even though you didn't want it?"

"Maybe it's something I shouldn't accept because it's wrong," Syd says. "I thought I knew what it meant to be a victim but David and Lenny-- They're victims. I'm not a victim. I protect myself."

"You don't need help, but you need help," Ptonomy says, thoughtful. "You're a victim, but you're not a victim. Because you refuse to be one and because other people have it worse than you?"

"Yes."

"There's something we do that's called the victim Olympics," Ptonomy says. "We all compare our scars but only the person with the biggest scars wins acknowledgement of their pain. You know that's wrong. Dismissing our pain never helps us heal it. I don't care if it's a paper cut. We all feel pain, we all suffer. The people who I helped with my memory walks, I denied that their pain was mine and because of that I hurt myself and I hurt others. I classified people as either victims or threats, good guys or bad guys. But we're always both, to ourselves and to other people. I couldn't accept that David was a victim and so the only thing he could be to me was a threat, and that's how I treated him. All that did was make him worse. I wanted to see the world as black and white because that meant I didn't have to acknowledge my own responsibility for the war I was fighting in. I wanted Division 3 to be the bad guy because that meant I was the good guy, and good guys always do the right thing."

"Is this my therapy session or yours?" Syd asks, eyebrows raised.

Ptonomy straightens, collecting himself. "I guess we both need someone to talk to. But I bring those issues up because they're parts of us that match. We never got along, but that's because we both classified each other as threats right from the start, mostly because of David. You took his side and I didn't. We never got past that. But I'm done fighting wars I don't have to. I'd like us both to stop treating each other as the enemy. I'd like us to be friends."

"Because of Farouk?" Syd challenges.

"Because we've known each other for a year and we barely talked," Ptonomy says, plainly. "We both self-isolated. If I hadn't pushed everyone else away from me, maybe someone would have realized that I was infected before it was too late. Maybe I'd be alive right now. I might have mixed feelings about my powers but I absolutely do not want to be dead and trapped inside a computer. But I am. I'm dead. So is Lenny and so is Amy. Don't take your life for granted, Syd. Don't take any of this for granted because there are no guarantees. Face your truths before they destroy you and everyone else."

Syd takes a deep breath, looks up at the umbrella over the table. He's right, she knows he's right. She braces herself and looks back down at her notebook and forces herself to write her sixth foundational idea.

"I'm a victim," she grits out.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "So who made you one? Who hurt you so much you had to accept that to accept the world?"

That's harder.

"My mother didn't abuse me," Syd insists. "She didn't hit me, she didn't tell me I was worthless. She taught me how to defend myself against the world and how to survive it, just like she survived."

"I'm sure she did," Ptonomy says. "I'm sure she loved you and did the best she could for you. But she was a victim, too. Of the world, of her parents, maybe. She's not alive so we can't ask her about her pain. But she had to have been in pain because you told Melanie just how alike you two were. You were the Untouchable Barretts. You couldn't even touch each other. You were two lonely people who happened to share their lives with each other, but more than that, you both pushed everyone else away because you couldn't stand to let anyone get close enough to see your pain. You were both victims and didn't want to accept that so you made your pain a shield against the world. If someone dares to push past that shield, you punish them. You punished your mother's boyfriends for getting close to her, to you. You raped a man because you wanted him gone."

"He was a creep," Syd defends. "I was fifteen and he liked me."

"Maybe he was and maybe he did," Ptonomy says. "That doesn't justify your actions and that's not why you did them. David's instability didn't justify my hostility to him. David's powers didn't justify your future self pulling him out of time to abuse and kill him. And your inability to touch didn't justify your mother's emotional abuse of you."

"Then blame my powers," Syd says, firmly. "If you want something to blame, blame my mutation. Because that's why I couldn't touch, that's why she--"

When Syd doesn't continue, Ptonomy leans forward. "Finish that sentence. You can say it aloud or you can write it down, your choice. But you have to finish it."

"No," Syd says, shaking her head.

"You have to," Ptonomy says, just as firmly. "Or are you waiting for Farouk to leave you another music box?"

"God, I hate him," Syd says, tightly.

Ptonomy stares, waiting.

Syd's mother did everything she could for her. She protected her and cared for her and clothed and fed her. When Syd got into fights, her mother talked to the principal or the cops and sorted things out. When Syd was taken to the hospital and tied down and drugged for her violence and instability, her mother sat by her bed and yelled at the doctors until they let her go. Her mother protected her until she died, and when she was gone Syd ended up in Clockworks where she couldn't even protect herself.

But her mother never loved her. She couldn't love her because Syd couldn't be touched. And not being able to touch-- That hurt her mother every single day, just like it hurt David every single day. Syd saw it in their eyes, in their hesitation, in the way they reached out and then pulled back, wounded. Syd hurts everyone who gets close to her. That's why she doesn't let anyone get close.

She holds the truth where she has to see it and before she can't hold it anymore, she writes: I'm not capable of love. I don't deserve love.

She breathes out and puts down the pen.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Let's look at your foundation again."

Syd looks at it, her list of truths. Eight absolute facts she's believed as long as she can remember.

But they're not all true. They can't be. And if she's going to get better, she needs to cut out the truths that are hurting her and replace them. She has to acknowledge the ones that aren't even truths but are lies she's told herself to hide the truths that hurt too much to face.

She crosses out Love makes me weak. It wasn't true for David and it isn't true for her. Even though it pains her, she crosses out I don't need help and writes next to it: I need help.

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "Now tell me your foundation."

“Pain makes us strong,” Syd reads aloud “Life is war and I have to survive." She pauses. "I need help. I'm a victim. I'm-- I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it."

Those last four truths are hard to say and hard to accept. But she can't deny them.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "I think that's enough for this session. I want you to think about your foundation today. I want you to sit with those ideas and really think about why you believe them, and why you believed the ideas you just rejected. I want you to think about your relationship with your mother and do your best to look back at it from the perspective of the present. I can't show you your memories anymore but you don't need me to. You remember just fine. But try to remember them like they're happening now, not like they happened then. From the outside, not the inside."

Syd nods.

"David's okay, by the way," Ptonomy says. "There's no memory bomb, at least not inside him. Do you want to go down and see him?"

Syd shakes her head. She feels too raw to face anyone right now. She can barely face herself.

"David needs some time alone, too," Ptonomy says. "How about we wait up here together for a bit? It's good, being outside, even if it is just an illusion. We need the truth, but we can't survive without our illusions, either."

Syd's had enough of illusions. She has to survive; that truth is absolute no matter what. She once thought that David had to die for her to survive but that was Farouk's illusion. Now she knows the truth. But it's so hard keeping him alive. It's so hard sitting by while other people save him, while he struggles to save himself. She needs so much to save him but she can't. She's not capable of love and love is the only thing that can save him. And she never deserved his love to begin with. He thought she was too good for him, but he's the one who’s too good for her. She's the one who’s a monster.

Chapter 49: Day 9: So— How do we work? (David)

Chapter Text

David sits in a loveseat, a blanket around his shoulders, and looks at the printouts on the coffee table. There's no one sitting with him, not even Divad or Dvd. He asked to be alone after enduring them all swarming around him, poking and prodding him from without and within. He needed to be alone to think.

It's all very— Final, seeing it this way, printed out from a computer. Scans of his brain and of the activity inside it. There are things he lost that he’ll never get back. But he's here and he's not alone. Those parts of his mantra have never been more true.

Farouk didn't just rip out his memories, he ripped out the neurons that stored those memories. He actually gave David honest-to-god brain damage. Divad is healing it, but it's going to take time and the new neurons won't have the memories the old ones did. Whatever was taken out, there's no way to get it back.

They don't have a memory walker anymore, but they all looked inside him with every tool they have, poring over every inch of his body and mind. Whatever Farouk did with Past David's memories, he didn't hide them deep inside. He didn't do to David what he did to Amy, ripping out her soul and turning her into someone else, then hiding her inside herself. Past David's memories aren't hidden anywhere inside of David Haller.

But Divad and Dvd are definitely inside him. They are absolutely other people inside him, thinking and talking with his brain, because he's looking at printouts of Cary's scans of them thinking and talking when David was doing neither, and a scan of himself thinking and talking while they were quiet, and it's— It's a lot to take in, the hard reality of that. He was already starting to accept that they're part of him, that the three of them are a system, but this is— Undeniable. Cold, hard reality. This is what he is, what his system is, his body. Their body. Their brain. It's not his, it's theirs, it has been since he became three people instead of one. He's three different people, three different brainwaves coexisting inside one mind and body.

Whoever David is, he is definitely here. He absolutely exists. There he is, right in front of himself, a squiggly line on a graph. He thought and said his foundation for the test, so this squiggly line is his foundation. David is David. He didn't deserve what happened to him, it wasn't his choice. David is love. David survived.

Or someone named David survived, anyway, because Past David is definitely no longer home.

He's not a complete blank slate. He has plenty of memories. He has the barely-real memories Farouk left behind for him and he has the mostly-real memories he's made since college, and he has the untouched, vivid memories he's made since Divad started healing his brain damage. And he has the memories Farouk didn't need to rip out because David made himself forget them. The worst memories, the most awful, terrible parts of his life that he couldn't even bear to remember as they happened. They're why he can't control his emotions but— He can't face them. Remembering them now, it would be too much.

So Past David is gone. He's gone for good. And the David that Farouk made, he doesn't want to be that David either. He doesn't want to be the monster's victim. He wants to be his own David and choose the life he wants to have. He wants to have the chance to figure out who he is.

Giving up on his past, on ever remembering— It's a relief, but— Once again, he's lost something he didn't even know he could have. He keeps losing things and now he has nothing left. He's just— A foundation. A handful of sentences he barely believes in. And he can't remember but everyone else can. Amy and Divad and Dvd can. Farouk can. His body remembers the trauma he can't bear to acknowledge and it will keep punishing him with it for the rest of his life.

He's loved and there’s no shame in love. He's strong enough to heal. That's the other half of his mantra. He wants to believe that, too, that he's strong. That it's possible to heal from such horrific trauma. That he's worth the work of healing and the love and pain of so many people. He's trying to believe it. He's trying.

"Okay if we join you?" Divad asks.

David nods. Divad and Dvd sit down on the sofa and look at the printouts. None of this is news to them. They've known all of this for a long time.

"It's still pretty cool," Dvd says, and leans over his printout. "It's like having a picture of each of us. Family photos. We've had plenty of pictures of our body, but—" He shrugs. "This is us."

"Our system," Divad agrees. "Our system, David. You don't have to remember anything to be our brother. You've always been our brother and you always will be."

David gives them a suspicious look. "Am I dying or something? Did Cary find a brain tumor? Because you're both being unusually—"

"We talked some stuff out," Dvd admits. "Actually talked instead of shouting. It's been a long time since we did that. But we're— Trying. Like you are. We're trying to be more than just— Who we were."

"Our whole system has been traumatized," Divad says. "Our system should get better together. We should be— Three brothers instead of three pieces. A new system for our new life together. How does that sound?"

"Really nice," David admits. He meets their eyes. "I'm sorry about yesterday."

"We should have told you about the bedroom," Divad says. "We should have told you a lot of things. I guess— We were waiting for Past David. But you've always been right here."

"It was our fault, too," Dvd adds. "But we're gonna fix it. What do you want to know?"

"Um." David tries to think. He's still feeling shocky. He's getting really familiar with that feeling. "You're always saying 'that's not how we work.' So— How do we work?"

"We share everything," Dvd says. "Our body, our powers."

"We don't all have the same powers," Divad explains. "And even when we do, they're different. We can hear each other's thoughts but you're the only one who can read other minds."

"We're both telekinetic," Dvd says, proudly. "Divad can't control things outside of us, but he can control our body."

"You're the only one who can make white rooms," Divad says. "You can make things in the real world and the astral plane. We can make things too, but only projections. That's how you can see us. We're mental projections, not hallucinations."

David stares at them. He reaches up and touches the crown. "Has it been broken all this time?"

"We wish," Dvd sighs. "No, it stops us from using our powers outside of our body." He hesitates. "Our powers still work inside our body. That's how you can see us and Divad can regulate your emotions. That's why— We can guard our thoughts from you, but not other mind readers."

David has to take a moment. "I thought— I made you hear my thoughts."

"Not exactly," Divad admits. "David, the monster— He broke you open. You can't guard your thoughts at all, from anyone."

"No," David insists. "I blocked Farouk from reading my mind, for the plan."

"I did that," Dvd admits. "I've been protecting you since we got you back. You couldn't have kept us out of our body yesterday, either. I keep things out. I keep Farouk from getting back in."

David's eyes widen even more. "Farouk's trying to get back inside me?!"

"Of course he is," Dvd says. Divad elbows him in the side but Dvd ignores him. "We're not a defenseless baby anymore. He doesn't have a chance."

Divad gives up on trying to shut Dvd up. "We're safe, David," Divad assures him. "Dvd's really strong. He's so strong that the monster couldn't stop him from breaking through to protect us. Now that the monster is outside, he can't get back in. We promise."

"If your friends would just take this stupid crown off, he wouldn't be able to read our minds either," Dvd grumbles. He hesitates, then: "It's not keeping us alive, not really. Our inside powers still work. We're alive because we don't want our system to die. Though I guess it is keeping us from ending the world."

"Not that we're going to end the world," Divad assures him.

"Okay," David says, not entirely sure how much of this he's absorbing. Inside powers and outside powers. Okay. He can understand that. The inside powers work but not the outside ones. Dvd's protecting their body and Divad is healing it. Most of David's powers are outside powers, so— That's why he thought the crown stopped him from doing anything. That's why he thought everything else was just— His imagination. Hallucinations. Because he thought he was hallucinating Divad and Dvd, so— It made sense.

"By George, I think he's got it," Divad says to Dvd.

"You're projections," David says. Somehow that's what he can't get over. They're not hallucinations, they're projections. Like— astral projections, but— Mental. That's why it felt like astral projecting. Because they're all projections when they're not inside their body. He didn't become a hallucination when he left his body. He actually left his body.

"Sort of," Dvd says. "We can't leave with the crown on, but we can— Stretch."

"We figured it all out on our own," Divad says. "There hasn't been anyone to ask. Our parents helped some, but they didn't have powers. Maybe Oliver can explain it."

"Our parents taught us how to use our powers?" David asks, astonished.

"They had a book," Divad says. "Whoever brought us must have given it to them. We used it to learn how to control our powers and keep them secret."

"There's a book?" David asks, his voice shifting higher with each question. He turns to the others, sitting around the table. "Amy, there's a book?"

"Amy didn't know about the book," Divad says, but Amy's already coming over. The relay is on so she must have heard all of that.

"Maybe it's still back at the house," Amy says. "I never went through Dad's things. I kept meaning to get the house ready to sell, but— I'm glad I didn't. When all this is over, we can go there together, see if we can find the book. If that came with you, maybe there's something else."

David nods. There was a book. He wasn't just— Dumped. Unwanted. They had to hide him to keep him safe from Division 3. They gave David's adoptive parents a book because they knew he was a mutant, they knew he would need help to stay safe. They couldn't keep him but they did the best they could to protect him.

They loved him. His parents loved him. All his parents loved him and tried to keep him safe.

"Oh, David," Amy says, her Vermillion sitting down beside him and pulling him into a hug. David's crying all over her android. He should really stop doing that. He might short it out.

"It's okay, it's waterproof," Amy says, fondly.

David pulls back anyway, smiling and wiping his eyes. "Maybe we could— Your photo albums?" His parents loved him. He wants to be able to remember their faces. "We could ask Clark—"

"I already asked him," Amy says. "Cary, could you bring them over?"

Cary and Kerry bring over two boxes of photo albums. They put them on the coffee table and Amy takes one album and opens it.

There they are. The four of them all together. No, the six of them, because David's, what, seven years old in the photo? So he was already three people by then. He carefully pulls the photo out of the album and holds it. His parents are smiling at the camera, at him.

"The Haller family," he says, voice shaky as he smiles through his tears.

§

They look through more of the photos together, David and his sister and his brothers. And he's glad he asked to see them. It means so much, seeing them, seeing that there were good times despite all the bad. That there was real love despite the fear and horror hidden inside of David's body. That they were a family, all of them, visible or not.

But he doesn't remember any of it.

He remembers— fragments. Pieces. The quarter-truths he already remembered because Farouk wanted him to remember them. On some level, he'd hoped that seeing the photos would somehow— Resurrect the other memories, even though the scan on the table proves there's nothing left to resurrect. What's gone is gone.

He feels like— He's had his heart broken and healed and broken and— He doesn't know what to feel anymore. He's like his rocket lamp, shattered beyond repair but somehow still held together with packing tape and— Love. Hope, despite everything.

Amy knows when it gets to be too much. She can hear him thinking it. She closes the album and has Cary put the boxes away again.

"You don't have to remember," she tells him. "It's okay, David. I promise. My heart's broken, too, but— It's still okay. You're here with us. That's what's important."

"It doesn't feel like enough," David admits. But this is what he is. He has to accept what he is.

"We'll make new memories together," Amy says. "Our family will make new memories. We'll make— A whole new album of memories."

"You can't even see them," David says, looking at Divad and Dvd.

"You can't see me right now," Amy says, and it's true. "But sometimes brothers and sisters are apart, and then they're back together again. We'll all be back together again and then we can take so many pictures, okay?"

That still feels so far away, but David nods, letting her believe for him.

"What happened to Mom?" David asks.

"Are you sure?" Amy asks.

David nods.

"She was always sick," Amy says. "Ever since she was a kid. She had pulmonary fibrosis. Idiopathic, they could never figure out what caused it. As she got older, it got worse, so— Dad got a job upstate, where the air was clean and there wouldn't be anything stressful. Well, except for us, but— She loved us so much, no matter how much trouble we were. As we got older, I had to help her more and more, especially with you. And then—" She falters, crying in the mainframe. "She died when you were twelve. You— We all took it really hard, but you were— You were so angry. You started getting into fights, getting in trouble. The doctors said— They told us to increase your medication. That your schizophrenia was getting worse. And we did, but—"

"But I didn't have schizophrenia," David finishes.

"You didn't," Amy says, apologetic. "Divad? Dvd? What do you remember?"

Dvd shakes his head, too upset to answer, so Divad does. "When Mom was dying— There was a section in the book on mutant healing powers. And we thought— We had so many powers, maybe we could heal Mom. What was the point of having all our powers if we couldn’t save her? We couldn’t even save ourselves." His voice wavers and Dvd reaches out and holds his arm. "We couldn’t heal her. We had to stand there and watch as she—" He stops, unable to continue.

"We were so angry," Dvd says, voice full of emotion. "We loved her so much. We thought— The monster stopped us from healing her."

"Did he?" David asks, horrified.

"Probably not," Divad admits. "I can heal our body but— We’ve never been able to heal anyone else. The book was full of powers we don’t have. We can’t memory walk or swap souls or manipulate magnetic fields."

"Magnetic fields?" David asks.

Dvd shrugs. "It was in the book. We tried, it didn’t work. If you ask me, magnetism is a hack. Telekinesis is way better."

David looks at the printouts on the table again, at the scan showing his actual brain damage. Those missing memories, they're a whole life he can't remember. They're his life. Because even if he can't remember these things, they still happened to him. There's photos of him and other people remember him being there. There are intact neurons in his brain that remember him being there. That's— Insane, that parts of him remember and he can't.

"It's torture," Dvd says. "Remembering and forgetting at the same time, it's torture."

David wants to remember and forget at the same time all by himself. "It is," he agrees. He wants to get as far away from his horrific past as he can, but— It's inside him, all of it. Even if Farouk took his hoard of memories with him when he left David's body, he left the scars behind. He left the fear and the trauma. He made David's system remember and forget, but he also made David remember and forget.

And he wants to remember his parents, his childhood— But he can't. He can't remember the good things as they truly happened. They’re just stories other people are telling him. He could look at photos of himself all day but he can't see himself inside them because he's not that person because the real memories are gone, but he is that person and—

"Hey," Amy says, rubbing his back through the blanket. "You don't have to be anyone, okay? You don't have to remember anything."

"But I want to," David says, tightly. "I don't want to be— Nothing. This— Absence. It's—" Intolerable. Agonizing. Torture.

It's torture.

"I have to remember something," he decides. "If all I have left is the worst— I have to remember that."

"That's gonna be torture, too," Dvd says, upset. "Remembering what he did to you, how's that gonna help?"

"At least it'll be real," David says. "I forgot them so— They're mine, not his. I thought I needed a good memory for continuity but— I need a bad one. I need my worst memories. You have to help me get them back."

Divad and Dvd look to each other, then at David. They're not happy, but—

"We'll talk to Ptonomy," Divad sighs.

Chapter 50: Day 9: You used to be ours and we were yours. (David)

Chapter Text

"Yes," Ptonomy says. "We do have a way to recover your worst memories. We absolutely can recover them."

"We can?" David asks, surprised to get such a simple response to his question. He'd thought it would be more complicated, more difficult to get his memories back.

"You already did it once," Ptonomy says, and points across the lab. "Cary helped you. Remember?"

David looks at the amplification tank. They hid the metal dome when they brought him here, but just with a dust cover. David snuck into the lab a lot once he figured out how to use the tank without Cary's help. Sometimes he still tastes the strawberry flavor at the back of his mouth. He probably shouldn’t have swallowed so much of the daiquiri.

"The tank should even work with the crown on," Ptonomy continues. "Since we now know that your 'inside' powers are still working, we can amplify your ability to remember and break through your traumatic blocks. But," he says, and it's a very strong 'but.' "I absolutely will not allow you to do that until your system is sufficiently healed to face that kind of extreme trauma."

"But it's just my memory," David says. "They already remember, they're fine."

"Just because they remember what happened to your system doesn't mean they're fine," Ptonomy says. "They're just as traumatized as you, remember?"

"But they don't have to remember," David insists. "They can just-- Wait outside the tank."

"Let's talk about traumatic dissociative amnesia," Ptonomy says. "In fact, let's talk about your amnesia, period. As with the rest of the your trauma, your amnesia is complex. You not only forgot specific traumatic events, you also lost the memories around those traumatic events."

"So...?"

"So the usual way of recovering traumatic memories involves remembering the events that led up to that trauma," Ptonomy says. "That's key for reintegrating the memory and working through the trauma it contains. Each time we remember, we re-encode our memories, we relive them. With traumatic memories, the experience of remembering is so overwhelming that we feel compelled to interrupt it, to stop before it's done. That traps us in the moment of trauma. In fact, that's why you weren't able to fully remember what happened in the club."

David tenses up. "What do you mean?"

Ptonomy gives him a considering look. "You've used the jigsaw puzzle metaphor to represent your memories. What you should have is a full set of pieces, factory new. Instead, Farouk took away most of the pieces, and for the pieces you have left, you flipped them over so you can't see what's on them. Divad and Dvd, they're-- They're matching jigsaws, complete or complete enough. We need them to know the shape of the pieces we need to flip over. We need them to know what the puzzle looks like."

David looks at his brothers. "So you have to remember, too?"

Dvd nods.

"Shit," David says, and rubs his face. "Okay, bad idea."

"It's not a bad idea," Ptonomy says. "You do need to remember at least one of your traumatic memories so you can have continuity, and preferably more for your recovery. But the three of you are not ready to face that kind of trauma, not individually or as a system. I think it will be extremely beneficial for the three of you to work through your trauma together, but that's a goal for your system recovery, not what will get you there."

"Then what will get us there?" David asks, feeling overwhelmed just talking about it. He's only just accepted that he's part of a system. He doesn't see how their system can recover if he can't remember. But apparently he can't remember until it recovers.

"Talking, for a start," Ptonomy says. "I'm really glad the three of you are finally talking to each other. You want to be brothers, but Divad and Dvd's old relationship with you was lost when Farouk took away your memories. Whatever happened to those, we have no way of getting them back. So the three of you need to get to know each other as you are now. And more than that, you need to be honest. Telling David the truth about your powers was a start, but you have to stop lying to him and to us."

"We tell you what you need to know," Divad says, defensively.

"If that was true, you would have told us about David's powers sooner, and his brain damage," Ptonomy counters. "Dvd would have told us that Farouk has been trying to get back into your system's body."

David tenses again. He was trying not to think about that.

"Yes, I noticed," Ptonomy says. "You're trying not to think about a lot of things. Like the fact that the crown isn't keeping you from killing yourself."

David swallows and looks away.

"That must be scary," Ptonomy says, gently. "You were trusting the crown to keep you safe from yourself. So were we. But it didn't. You did that, David. You didn't want to die so you didn't kill yourself."

"I didn't know I could," David admits, his throat tight.

"But Dvd and Divad knew," Ptonomy says. "They lied because they didn't want you to die. They still don't want you to die. And you don't want them to die either. You don't want to hurt them, just like you don't want to hurt us. And I know you don't want to hurt yourself. Even if it's hard not to. You don't want to hurt yourself."

David shakes his head, agreeing.

Ptonomy gives him a moment to recover. David breathes and keeps breathing. Dvd and Divad are right here. He wishes he could touch them, but he can't.

"You could," Ptonomy points out. "If you projected yourself out of your body, you could be with them, touch them."

“No,” David says, certain. “I can’t dissociate. I have to stay present.”

“Is it dissociating if you’re sitting here talking to me instead of talking to Kerry?”

“No, but—“

“It’s just the same,” Ptonomy says. “Being with your brothers, it’s just the same as being with your sister or your friends. We don’t expect you to be with everyone at once all the time. It’s hard to get to know anyone if you can’t be alone with them.”

David tries to accept that.

“Are you afraid of being alone with them?” Ptonomy asks.

“Of course not,” David defends, but he knows it’s a lie even before he finishes saying it. He looks at Dvd and Divad. They look— Less surprised than David expected them to be. But then they have been listening to his thoughts for— Forever.

“Okay,” David says, strained. “Maybe I am— It’s been a lot to take in, all this— And I don’t— I don’t know— Anything. But you do. You know everything about everything and you don’t even trust me enough to tell me I can kill myself so yeah, maybe I’m not comfortable leaving my body to be alone with you. And I know, I know you’re why I’m even alive, I know we have this whole— Life together I can’t remember, but I can’t remember it and even staying alive is just— Really hard all the time. And you need me to remember, every time you look at me I see it and— I can’t. I can’t be him, he’s gone.”

He’s gone. The memories are gone. They’re really gone. And whatever’s left— It’s going to hurt so much to get it back. He needs it but he’s terrified and he can’t get who he was back at all unless he trusts the two people who won’t trust him with anything.

“We’re trying, okay?” Dvd says, upset. “It’s really hard for us too, all of it. You used to be ours and we were yours. We were all we had, we were everything for each other. We spent ten years trying to get you back and we finally did but you’re still—“

“I’m still gone,” David finishes for him. “I’m sorry, I wish— If there was any way to— To be who I was— I wish I could remember, but he took everything. Even what’s left, it’s only there because he knew it would be torture to get it back. That you’d be torturing me to make me do it and I’d be torturing you to help me and—“ He blinks, his vision blurred with tears. “And it’s torture to live without remembering. So either way, whether I remember or not, he gets what he wants. And I can’t even—“

He can’t escape any of it. He can’t kill himself even now that he knows he can. Sometimes it feels like there’s layers and layers of prisons around him, each forcing him smaller until he can barely breathe.

“Okay,” Ptonomy says, calming him. “You’re here and you’re not alone, okay? We’re right here with you. Do you want Kerry right now?”

David feels utterly selfish, asking for her help all the time. But he nods anyway. She comes over and sits beside him and hugs him.

“I’m here,” she soothes. “We love you and it’s okay to be scared.”

David hugs her so tightly. He wishes he could hide inside her, like Cary can. He wishes he’d ever been able to hide inside of anyone. He would never have come out again. He wishes he didn’t have to be himself.

God, he wishes he could die. He knows it’s hurting Dvd and Divad to think that but he can’t help it. He wishes he could just— Lobotomize himself and make his thoughts stop. There’s barely anything left of his brain anyway. It’s a miracle he’s thinking at all. Except Farouk made sure he left the parts of him that think because if he couldn’t feel all of his suffering there’d be no point to him at all.

“You are more than just your pain,” Ptonomy says, firm but soothing. “You’re love, remember? You’re the love you have for Kerry and the love she has for you. Don’t let your fear and shame eat you alive. Don’t let the parasites win. Stay with us. Stay and let us love you and love us back. Try to love yourself. All you have to do is stay with us and try.”

The iron band of terror loosens from around David’s chest. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and pushes it out of himself. Kerry loves him. She’s hugging him because she loves him. He doesn’t deserve her but he loves her right back.

“You’re doing so well,” Ptonomy soothes. “You’re so strong, to keep fighting through all of this. You’re the strongest person I know. We love you and we’re not going anywhere. We’re here with you and we’re all protecting you. Dvd, you’re protecting David, right?”

“Yeah,” Dvd says. “Yeah, I’m keeping us safe, our whole system is safe. And Divad’s keeping us safe, too.”

“Absolutely,” Divad declares. “I’m keeping you safe and helping you heal, but— You’re working so hard to heal yourself and that means a lot to us. We— Love you. You’re still our David. You’ve always been our David.”

David lets go of Kerry so he can turn and look at them. He can’t remember them ever— It’s always been shouting and— They said he didn’t have to remember before but— He does want to remember.

“You don’t have to remember,” Divad insists. “You don’t have to— Hurt yourself for us. We saw the scan, too. We know. We’ve always known but— We didn’t want to stop hoping. But that hope— It's not worth it if it makes us lose you— After everything we’ve been through together.”

“I know you want him back,” David says, tiredly. “What if— Even if I remember— I don’t know how to be him?”

“You are him,” Dvd says. “You do— A hundred different things every day that prove how much you’re him. You even get absolutely terrified like he did. Like you did. But—“ Dvd swallows. “You hugged us, not them. You let us make you better. You were ours. Can’t you be ours again? Can’t you—“ Tears run down his face. “Can’t you let us hold you?”

Dvd looks at him so imploringly, David’s heart aches for him. He can’t— He can’t say no to that. He can’t let his fear keep him from— The people he made from himself. The people who protected him and suffered with him and spent their whole lives with him, even though he can’t remember it.

He lies back in the loveseat and closes his eyes, and then he opens them without opening them. He reaches out of himself and stands, physically light with relief from the freedom from his body, and sits down on the sofa next to Dvd.

He pulls Dvd into his arms and holds him tight, just like he held Kerry. And Dvd holds him back just as tightly. Dvd cries, tight and nearly silent, holding David like he can’t ever bear to let him go again. Like David held Kerry, like he holds Amy. Dvd hugs just like Amy used to, before she died.

“She taught all of us to hug,” Divad says, tightly. “She’s our big sister, too. We were afraid to tell her we were there, but we love her just as much as you. We’re your brothers, David. We’re your family. Please don’t be afraid of us.”

David looks past Dvd’s ear at Divad. Divad has been— Confusing. Dvd is straightforward, David understands his anger and the pain it hides. But Divad— He told David he didn’t deserve love. He yelled and then— He stopped yelling, but—

“You’re right,” Divad admits. “I’ve been— Suppressing my emotions. Erasing myself to make it easier to— Survive. I don’t want to hurt you anymore and— I don’t want to hurt— Our system. I could have— I control our body, David. It would be so easy for me to—“ Pain flashes across his face, briefly before it vanishes, suppressed. David recognizes it now that he knows.

“Don’t,” David says. “Don’t— Erase yourself, please, I— I can’t get to know you if you take yourself away.”

“It’s too much to feel,” Divad says, and his eyes are full of pain no matter how much he’s suppressing. He isn’t crying but he looks at David with the same imploring eyes as Dvd.

David pries himself from Dvd’s grip and moves to sit between them, between his brothers. He pulls Divad into a hug and then Dvd holds him again from behind and he’s— He feels—

He feels better, holding them, being held. They’re both holding on so tight and they hug him with everything they have, just like Amy hugs. Because Amy taught them how to hug. She taught all of them how to hug, she loved all of them together, even though she didn’t know. She’s their sister. They’re his brothers.

He can’t be afraid of anyone who hugs like this. It seems— Ridiculous to be afraid of them now. They— They love him. And he wants to love them back. He wants to know them so he can know their love and share it with them.

“This is how we work, too,” Dvd says, voice partly muffled by David’s shoulder. “This is how we make you better. You have to let us, you’re ours.”

It’s said with such— Petulant pleading that David can’t protest it. And if that’s true, they must have— A whole decade’s worth of pent-up hugs waiting for him. That sounds— It sounds really nice. He feels like he needs at least a decade’s worth of hugs. Multiple decades, so it’s just as well there’s two of them. It’s hard to feel guilty about— Hugging himself. Especially when his other selves clearly need to hold him as much as he needs to be held.

“Is David okay?” Kerry asks, looking at his sleeping body with concern. “He just sorta— Turned off?“

“He’s with his brothers,” Ptonomy explains. “I think they might be a while. It’s okay, David’s feeling much better now. Let’s leave them to talk.”

“Ptonomy,” David calls, as Ptonomy stands to go. “Thank you.”

Ptonomy smiles. “Be with your brothers, David. We’ll be here when you get back.”

Chapter 51: Day 9: We made you into a passenger. (David)

Chapter Text

David didn’t know how much he needed to leave his body until he left it. Or he did know, but— He did his best not to think about it. But now, as a mental projection, all the pain is gone. The crown, the tension and everything else held inside his body: he only feels them faint and distant, like they aren’t his at all.

“Is it safe for all of us to leave our body?” David asks, looking at it. Their body. He just looks like he’s napping, but— If Farouk is trying to get back in—

“We’re not really out of it,” Dvd reminds him. “Our body is safe because we’re still inside it.”

David doubts any part of him is safe anywhere, but that does at least give him one less thing to worry about. He looks at Dvd and Divad, sitting on either side of him, looking back at him. They’re both calmer after all the hugging but they look at him— Intensely. “So, um— I guess we should talk.”

“Yeah,” Divad says, but he doesn’t look pleased about it.

Dvd keeps staring at him, almost— Hungry with need.

Maybe Ptonomy should come back.

“No,” Dvd says. “We don’t need a— Robot chaperone.” He looks away, looks back with slightly less intensity. “We’re making a new system together. As three separate people who are brothers.”

“Exactly,” Divad agrees. “And we do trust you and we want you to trust us. We want things to be— Equal. So— Ask us anything you want to know.”

What does he want to know? There’s so much he hardly knows where to start. But he doesn’t want to talk about the past when he can’t remember it and they shouldn’t have to. He wants— He wants to move forward with them, begin their new life and stop trying to salvage the old one.

“We’re starting over,” David says. “So let’s— Start over.”

“Okay,” Divad agrees, but he looks uncertain and so does Dvd.

David has the novel sensation of— Actually understanding their situation better than they do. He’s been working hard at building a whole new life for himself, a new identity from the ashes of his old one. Not in the DID sense, he’s still who he was in the desert, but— They need to build a new system from the ashes of the old one. A new identity for their identities.

And it’s actually— He’s been the part of their system with the least power since he found out who they were, since he found out they’re a system. They’ve been in control of everything, in control of themselves and in control of his emotions and his body and he’s— Broken open, broken physical and emotionally and mentally and— He’s felt so— For all they’ve worked to keep him safe, it’s all made him feel completely vulnerable because he’s been so dependent on them, unable to defend himself from them, much less anyone else.

Dvd and Divad both frown, upset by his thoughts, and David reminds himself that if they’re going to hear all his thoughts anyway, he needs to just say them aloud so he can acknowledge they’re being heard, too.

“I know you didn’t mean to do any of that,” David says, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot. “It’s— You’ve done so much to protect me and I’m grateful for everything but—“ He glances at his body. Their body. “I’m not just— Your memory of him or— A part of our system. I’m a person, my own— I’m David, my David, and— If I need help, I need to be part of— Helping myself.”

That’s— No, say it aloud. “That’s what we did to Syd in the desert. It wasn’t wrong to help her but— It was wrong to not let her help herself. Even if she didn’t know she was sick— Forcing her to change, it— It was wrong, even if she—“ He runs out of words he can say aloud or even think.

Dvd looks even more upset now. So does Divad. Neither of them says anything, they must be thinking but they won’t share their thoughts, they don’t have to.

“I’m sorry,” David says, feeling guilty even though he knows he needs to say these things. They have to face the truth if they want to make things better. “I can’t— I know it hurts, but— It hurts to get better. Healing— Means ripping things open so they can heal the right way. If they can heal at all. I want us to be— I can’t be who you lost but— If you can— Accept me as I am now, if you can— Try, then— I can try to accept you. And we can— Try to make this work.”

He breathes, waits, watching them.

“We’re not just three people,” Dvd says, tightly. “We can’t— Exist separately. We’re parts of you. We share everything. If one of us does something, all of us do it. If one of us keeps us safe, that’s you keeping us safe.”

“But that’s—“ David stops, trying to understand. “Who I am now, I don’t know any of that. Even if you tell me, I can’t feel it the way you feel it. I was alone, I know it’s a lie but that’s what I remember. I remember being—“ So painfully alone and afraid and—

“We know,” Divad soothes. “We heard you. He wouldn’t let you hear us but we could still hear you.”

“I still can’t hear you,” David says, and it’s the truth. “You said I was torturing you just like he did, but— Aren’t you doing it, too?”

“It’s different,” Dvd insists. “We’ve always protected you from our thoughts. Sometimes that was the only thing we could do to—“ He cuts himself off.

“To what?” David asks. “You said you’d tell me anything I want to know.”

“He said you could ask,” Dvd grumbles, nodding at Divad. “I didn’t.”

David frowns. “You just said whatever one of us does, all of us do. Or is that a lie? Ptonomy said you’ve been lying to me.”

“Ptonomy needs to mind his own business,” Dvd says.

“We are his business,” David insists. “Helping us get better is why he’s here.”

Dvd doesn’t answer. David turns to Divad instead. “Okay, you tell me. Or were you lying, too?”

“It was the only way we had to protect you,” Divad admits, with visible reluctance. “You made us to protect you and we couldn’t. You made us to take care of you but we were just as— Helpless as you were. But he let us help you because that’s what he wanted. He wanted you to trust us and rely on us because that gave him more ways to hurt you. But we had to help you. You needed us, you needed us more and more and by the end—“ He swallows and forces himself to finish. “By the end you were— You didn’t have a choice. He broke you so badly you couldn’t— We had to be— So much of you. And we— God, we loved it because that was all we ever wanted. But the cost was— We made you into a passenger, someone we just— Carried around. We told ourselves we were— But it wasn’t your life anymore, it was ours. It was mine. It was my life. Dvd didn’t care about college, you were— But I did. I— I chose our major. Biology. I wanted us to go into med school so we could find a way to get the monster out of us. I learned about our body so I could fix it and make us better. But he knew that and he waited for me to build our life so it would hurt so much more when he took it all away. And he’s going to take everything away again, whatever we build that’s what he’s going to destroy, so—“ His face wracks with pain and terror before he suppresses himself into calm.

“Divad,” David says, horrified but— More than any horror for himself, he feels— Compassion. To endure that— Farouk is so unspeakably cruel, to do that to them. It’s no wonder they’re— They must be terrified to hope for anything, to let their guard down at all, even to him, or— to any part of their system. They— “You don’t talk to each other,” he realizes. “I thought it was just me but— You’re alone, too, both of you. We’ve all been— Trapped alone with each other.”

“You’re right,” Divad admits. “We don’t have a system anymore. He destroyed it just like he destroyed— All of us. The only thing we have left is— Keeping you alive. And we can’t even do that.”

David holds Divad close, but Divad doesn’t hold him back. David pulls back and looks at him. Divad’s face is impassive; his eyes are dry, but David still sees the pain in them. “Please stop erasing yourself,” he pleads. “I know how— How awful it is to feel, but— Not feeling anything is awful, too. Dissociating or— Going numb. It’s just as much suicide as— You’re not allowed to kill yourself. Not for me. I won’t let you. You’re my brother and I want you to live. You can read my thoughts so you know I’m not lying, you know I mean every word. I’m staying alive for you so you have to stay alive for me. That’s— That’s the first part of our foundation. Our system’s foundation. I’ll write it down later but— We can start believing it now. Or trying to. I’ll believe it for you, okay?”

David suddenly realizes that Dvd is crying again. He turns to his brother and holds him, and Dvd holds him back.

“And me?” Dvd asks, tightly.

“I’ll believe it for you, too,” David promises. “It’s our foundation. For all three of us together. It’s— It’s a promise we’re making to ourselves. To our system.”

That’s what his foundation is. It’s the love of the people he loves, it’s a promise they share with him and each other. A promise to stay alive and protect each other and love each other, even when that feels impossible. As long as one of them believes it just a little, all of them can try to believe it. That love binding them together— That’s a kind of system, too. All systems are— They’re love. Systems are made of love. Just like— Just like the people inside them.

“I love you,” David tells Dvd, because he’s finally able to believe it now. “We’re brothers and we’re part of each other and we love each other.”

Dvd holds him tighter. He makes a pained sound, like David’s words hurt him instead of comfort him. Maybe they’re doing both.

‘You only love us now because of him.’

It’s been a while since David heard anyone’s thoughts but his own. But that’s Dvd’s voice in his head, pained and desperate. Dvd’s letting him hear his thoughts.

“No,” David insists. “He can’t control us anymore. You’re keeping him out.”

‘He made you like this,’ Dvd thinks. ‘He made you trust and love so— You wouldn’t want us back unless he wanted that.’

“No,” Divad says, and David realizes Dvd let down his guard so they can both hear his thoughts. “He hates us. He’d never want David to trust us now.”

‘He knows us,’ Dvd’s thoughts insist. ‘He knows we need each other. He’s using us again.’

“He’s out,” Divad argues. “He made David trusting but he can’t control who he trusts. It’s not up to him, it’s up to us. You know that. You agreed we need help because you know we’re the ones who can make the torture stop.”

“How can we make it stop when everything is torture?” Dvd asks aloud, still holding tight to David. “Everything has always been torture. Even when we thought we were winning, he’s the one who won.”

“No,” David says, realizing. “Because if he could get back inside us, he would have. He can’t. You stopped him, we all— We got him out and he can’t get back in. We did that, all of us, our friends and our system. That’s— It’s our victory and we’re not letting the delusion take it away.”

Dvd finally pulls back. He looks at David, at Divad, at their body. “Yeah. The shit beetle lost. We’re stronger than him.”

“We are,” David says. It’s hard to believe, but each of them believes it a little and that makes it easier. “He didn’t want to leave our body. He had— He was finally the one in charge of it, he had everything he wanted, of course he didn’t want to give that up. But Cary made the halo and— He had to leave or we were going to kill him. He had to leave. And Oliver was right there, so— He stole him and ran. And he has his body back now but that’s not enough, it can’t be enough or he wouldn’t be trying to get back inside us, he wouldn’t be— Stuck here, watching us. He’d be— In the south of France, lying on a beach. He could have done that from inside Oliver, he controlled Oliver from the start, he didn’t even need his body back, he didn’t need any of that.”

David leans back against the sofa, stunned by his own realization. He’s felt— So inescapably fucked. And so have Dvd and Divad; even though they’ve been able to protect their system, they remember the bad things, they felt even worse, even more trapped, despite the false fronts they put up on his behalf. But they’re not trapped. Not just because they can kill themselves if they want to, but because they can choose not to. Because they can choose to live, to change, to open up to each other after a lifetime of silent pain.

It’s— It’s not easy, any of it. Choosing to live is torture in its own right. But it’s not torture because of Farouk. It is, but— It isn’t. Because he might have forced David to stay alive, but he didn’t force him to live. David chose to live. He chose to get better, with a lot of help and love from his friends and his system. And they’ve all been choosing to get better, too. Because they can choose. No one can stop them from choosing, not even Farouk.

He can take some of their choices away, he can narrow them down to one, but— One choice is still a choice. They’re the ones who make it. If they didn’t, Farouk would have to— Make them his puppets, like Amy was in the fantasy Clockworks. Farouk couldn’t trick Amy into being intentionally cruel so he had to make her a puppet. But they’re not puppets and their minds are their own.

Their mind is their own. Their body is their own. Farouk can’t get back inside. He lost and he keeps losing, and that means they keep winning. That means they can keep winning.

Divad and Dvd are staring at him intensely again, but this time it’s— It’s not like they’re hungry for something that isn’t there, but— For the thoughts that are there. Like— They want so much to believe his words, his hope, but— But they can’t because there’s a delusion stopping them from accepting them. The delusion that they were tortured because they deserved to be tortured. That the world’s cruelty was a punishment, not just— A thing that happened to them. Because that’s what David believes and they’re parts of him. They believed the same things he believed, when he made them. And they've never—

No one knew they were there. No one ever helped them the way David's friends have helped him. Even though— They deserve love. They never deserved to suffer. They never deserved to be— Hurt by the people they trusted. Cut off from the world. Taken away from everything they knew and— Shoved into an abusive mental hospital with a monster in their head.

“You didn’t deserve it,” David tells them, tells himself. “We didn’t— None of us deserved it. Our system didn’t deserve it. If you can believe that for me— You can believe it for yourselves. For all of us. Because— we’re a system. We can’t stop being a system, even when— The monster in our head did everything he could to break us apart. He couldn’t break us apart. We’re still here. We survived.”

He takes Dvd and Divad’s hands, one of each, like he held Kerry and Cary’s hands. “You’ve both done so much for me. I want us to be strong enough so I can remember us. I want us to build our new system together, to— Get better together. We’ve all been— Traumatized. But we didn’t deserve to be tortured and— I won’t let him torture us again. I can’t protect our body or our mind but— I want to— Help our system— Love itself. I want us all to be part of the world. Even if we’re inside, we’re still part of the world.”

David looks at his sleeping body, at his friends scattered around the lab. Ptonomy said it isn’t dissociating if he’s with his brothers. He said it’s hard to get to know anyone if you can’t be alone with them.

“I want us to try something,” David says, deciding. “I want— One of you to be in our body and stay with our friends. And I’ll stay with the other and get to know him better. And then you can switch.”

“David, no,” Divad protests. “You need to be with your friends. The only reason you’ve recovered this much is because of them.”

“I am with them,” David says. “I can hear them even if they can’t hear me, and we have the relay. We’ll— Take turns. If we share everything, if we should all be part of the world, then— We need to share our body.”

Both Divad and Dvd look very torn. David had expected them to embrace the idea. They’ll get to be together and they’ll get to be in their body. “What’s wrong?”

Neither answers at first.

“They’re not our friends,” Dvd says.

“You’ve been with them before, when I was— Catatonic.” Not ‘away’, that’s a child’s understanding and David is ready to face his past from the perspective of the present. He was catatonic or in some kind of deep dissociative state.

“We were covering for you,” Dvd says.

“They knew you weren’t me.”

“It was still covering,” Dvd insists. “We share our body together. We don’t— Take it for ourselves.”

“You took it to meet Kerry,” David says.

“I took it to get the crown off our head and save our life,” Dvd says. “That’s what I do because I have to. Because you’re— Scared or hurt or— I do it to protect you. Not to— Steal your life.”

Dvd glares at Divad.

“I didn’t steal David’s life,” Divad defends.

“You already admitted it!”

Divad huffs. “So you take our body and I’ll stay with David. You have a turn. Or are you afraid of it?”

Dvd glares at Divad again, but this time he’s the defensive one.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” Dvd declares. “It’s just— Wrong, being alone in there. We’re supposed to be together. That’s how we work.”

“We can’t,” Divad says. “You know we can’t.”

They both look at David, and David remembers what happened the last time Divad tried to share their body with him. It was a spectacular disaster. They could try again, but— Even the thought is enough to make him tense up.

“Ugh, fine,” Dvd relents. He narrows his eyes, looks at Divad and their friends like he’s assessing a battlefield. “I get David first,” he declares. “You like being in charge so much, you’re in charge.” He smirks, satisfied.

“Fine,” Divad relents. “And then we swap. And then David goes back.”

“Fine,” Dvd agrees.

“Great,” David says, brightly. He feels vaguely like a child being shared by two estranged parents. But he’s feeling positive for once so that’s how he’s staying. If he has to be positive for his whole system, that’s what he’s going to do. "Ptonomy, did you get all that?"

Ptonomy turns in his chair. "I did. I think it's an excellent idea. Everyone wants to get to know your brothers better. And Divad and Dvd can have their sessions with me while they're in your system's body."

Divad and Dvd both glare at Ptonomy for that, but they don't protest.

Divad stands, sighs, and walks over to their body. He sits down over it and leans back, vanishing into it. Their body opens its eyes. Divad winces, then visibly calms himself of whatever emotions he's suppressing.

"Divad, come join us," Amy says, motioning to an empty chair at the table.

"David," Ptonomy says. "You're doing an amazing job helping your brothers. But don't push yourself too hard. You might be ahead of them but you're recovering from a lot more than they are. I don't want you to set yourself back. If you need a break or to be back in your system's body, just say so. I'm sure your brothers will understand. Remember, this isn't a rescue mission. No one's in danger."

Not any more than usual, David supposes. Honestly, he's already tired, even without having to endure his body. This was-- A lot. Helping other people get better is almost as much work as getting better. And he’s doing both at once.

"Then how about you and Dvd play some cards?" Ptonomy suggests. "Double solitaire?"

"Yeah," Dvd says, liking the idea. "We used to play together all the time. I'll teach you."

David relaxes. Dvd relaxes too, mirroring him, and they both smile at each other. Dvd makes two packs of cards and they each start shuffling.

Chapter 52: Day 9: Therapy is not helpful for minimizing their stress. (Divad)

Chapter Text

Divad’s head hurts.

Their body has gotten worse since Divad was last in it. It's an absolute mess and not just because of the low, constant pain from the crown. But Divad knows how to fix it. He can finally fix it now that the monster is gone.

The emotional shock David keeps experiencing is an acute stress reaction. Extreme fear, stress, pain -- David endures all of it by dissociating from their body, by dissociating from his stressful thoughts. But their body still goes through all the physiological responses: alarm, resistance, exhaustion. He's been through that cycle so many times, it's a testament to his strength that he's still working so hard, but their body can't dissociate from itself. It can't escape by projecting out of itself. There's a physical cost to David's therapy, real and unavoidable. Divad's been doing what he can to manage it, to heal it, but David's been through so much so fast it's been impossible to keep up.

But Divad's the one in their body now. He's the one in charge. That means he can heal their body without having to hold back to avoid upsetting David. He can heal himself and their body together. He just has to keep things calm and not induce any more stress. Minimize neural firing, calm their noradrenergic activity, stabilize blood flow and get the epinephrine and norepinephrine surges out of their system.

More therapy will not minimize their stress.

"You've made your point clear," Ptonomy says, his voice in their head through the relay. "Would you like to discuss a stress management plan for your system's body? I think we could all use one, and we don't have your mutant emotional regulation."

Ptonomy doesn't have a body. Neither does Amy.

"True," Ptonomy admits. "But minds get stressed and tired, too. You and Dvd sleep even with your powers keeping you projected from your system's body. David's tired now."

Maybe David shouldn't be playing cards with Dvd. Maybe he should be resting in their body. But Divad can't make him sleep when he's not in their body.

"You still haven't talked to David about how you're managing his sleep," Ptonomy says.

They still haven't talked about what to do about the relay.

"You could have talked about it," Ptonomy says. "I'm sure David wants to talk about it. He wants you to be part of the world."

They wouldn't need the relay to be part of the world if they didn't have to wear the crown. It's not doing anything to stop them from killing their body. It never did.

"The Admiral is very unhappy about that," Ptonomy says. "He's unhappy that we can't rely on the crown to stop David from killing himself. He's even more unhappy that you continue to lie to David and to us. And so am I. And so is David, even though he tries not to think about it. He's dissociating from his feelings about that because he wants to help you."

This is sounding a lot like therapy, and therapy is not helpful for minimizing their stress.

"All right," Ptonomy says, backing off. "If you feel your system's body is the first priority, we'll trust you. But David wants you to be with us. He won't be happy if you spend your turn isolating yourself this way. Open your eyes and talk to us."

Divad opens their eyes. Amy's Vermillion smiles at him.

"Hey, Divad," Amy says. He hears her voice through her speaker instead of in their head.

"We have to keep things calm," Divad tells her. David's stress over Amy has done a lot of damage already. Amy has done a lot of damage already.

Calm. He has to keep their body calm. He has to keep himself calm.

"We could go up to the garden?" Amy asks. "How far can mental projections stretch? Or-- I'm sure David and Dvd would enjoy being outside."

"Maybe later," Ptonomy says aloud. "It's taken a lot to get us this far. I don't want to disturb them now that they're finally bonding."

"I agree," Divad says. "David's plan-- It's a good idea, sharing. We should have been sharing all along. David doesn't have to deal with this alone."

"When David is ready, we'll help him with his possession trauma," Ptonomy says. "You'll be able to share again, but he has a lot of healing to do and he's not ready for that yet."

"Even if you're not in his body with him, he's not alone," Amy says. "He has you and Dvd and he has all of us. And so do you. We're here for you and Dvd. Just like David said-- We want to get to know you so we can love you. You deserve to be loved."

Divad can't allow himself to feel love, not without feeling everything else bound up with it. He barely allowed himself to feel David's love, and he only did that because denying it would have been wrong when David is obviously trying so very hard to love them, these strangers he's forced to share his life with.

"You were strangers," Ptonomy agrees. "But you're not anymore. The more time you spend with David, the more you share with him, the better your relationship will be. That's what will give you the love you all want to share."

Divad wants to believe that. He wants to believe in David's hope, even though David only barely believes in it himself, no matter how hard he tries to force himself. They've heard David force himself to believe a lot of things since college. They've heard him convince himself to trust a lot of people he shouldn't have trusted. It's-- Agonizing, to hear David doing the same thing for them now, forcing himself to accept the ideas his friends have put into his head, forcing himself to trust and love people he has no good reason to trust or love.

"You said it yourself," Ptonomy reminds him, through the relay this time. "Farouk made David trusting but he can't control who David trusts. Just because David wants to trust you doesn't mean that's wrong, no matter what mistakes you've made with him in the past. No matter what mistakes you make now. That trust is right as long as you do your best to make yourself worthy of it. And just because an idea isn't yours, that doesn't mean you shouldn't accept it. You wouldn't know how to fix your body if you didn't learn those ideas from someone else, from doctors and scientists and teachers. You chose to accept them."

David can't choose what he accepts.

"That's why I'm doing everything I can to make this a safe environment for David," Ptonomy says through the relay. "I've surrounded him with people that it's safe for him to trust, whose ideas will help him heal. We've all made mistakes but we're working hard to be better and David sees that, he wants that for himself. It's a positive feedback loop and you and Dvd are part of it, too. The more we help David and each other, the more he's able to help himself and us. That's what got him to the point where he's able to share your system's body, where he's recognizing his own mistakes without drowning in shame. That's what's keeping him alive, not the crown."

Divad does have to admit that it's working. This compassion, love therapy, it's-- It's helped David like nothing else ever has. Thinking back, as much as Divad allows himself to think back-- Love was always the one thing that kept David going. Love for Divad and Dvd, love for Amy and Mom and Dad. Even -- as much as Divad loathes it -- love for King. David loved King so much, so intensely; King was what helped him get through the very dark times before David made his brothers. Farouk-- It makes Divad furious to think about him, even while he's suppressing their fight-or-flight instincts and keeping his heart rate and blood pressure low. He's-- cognitively furious.

"Your whole system has a lot of anger," Ptonomy says aloud. "Not just Dvd, but David and you and your body."

"I told you, I can't think about that right now," Divad insists.

"I think you want to talk about it," Ptonomy replies. "You could have accepted our suggestions to help with stress management, but you don't want to suppress your feelings. You don't want to make yourself silent and invisible when you don't have to be. It's okay to be angry, to be upset, to be whatever emotions you're denying. This is a safe environment for your entire system, for every part of it. You can even be angry at me and Amy. You can be angry about the crown. You can be angry about your treatment here. You can be angry about Clockworks."

"That's enough," Divad says, too sharply.

David looks over, concerned. "Divad?"

"Everything's fine," Divad assures him, calm again. "We're just talking."

David looks skeptical, but Dvd plays his turn, distracting him, and David lets himself be pulled back into the game. David always was easy to distract, long before the monster changed him.

"That's the dissociation," Ptonomy says. "He's dissociating constantly. That's how you and Dvd exist. That's how he manages the enormous physical and mental strain he's under and has been under his whole life. He'll need to accept his dissociation and learn to live with it, and also his other diagnoses and his powers and everything else in his life. That's the work: acceptance, compassion for ourselves and for the people around us. That's what therapy helps us achieve, if we let it."

"Point made," Divad says, annoyed.

"I hope so," Ptonomy says. "You have an incredible power. You can control your body on a level that most of us only dream about. But that kind of control can be just as damaging as the stress you're working so hard to avoid, because even if you heal the damage in your system's body, your trauma will keep causing damage, just like Dvd and David's will. If you don't deal with the source of your problems, you'll never be able to keep up with the physical cost of it. If you don't all heal your minds, your system's body will never heal."

Divad could heal their body a lot faster if Ptonomy would just leave them alone. But-- Dvd will be the one in charge soon and he's bound to make a mess of it again. And David has so much work he needs to do. Divad can't take their body for himself just to heal it. That's-- It's too much like what happened with college. He didn't mean to steal David's life. It just-- Happened.

"I remember those years," Amy says, gentle and sad. "David started doing so much better, I thought he was-- But that was you. Because-- David couldn't be in charge anymore. He was-- Too broken." Her voice catches, and inside the mainframe there are probably tears in her eyes. But the Vermillion doesn't show it.

Divad nods. "It was-- We'd always shared. I helped him face the world and Dvd kept us safe. The older we got, the more David needed me to cover for him. Until--" Regret and sorrow tighten their throat, their chest. "He didn't give up. He didn't go away. But-- School and work and-- The world was just-- Too much. He let us decide and Dvd didn't care so-- I decided. I was-- The main identity of David Haller. Our body, our life-- I was in charge."

It's hard to admit it. Dvd's been furious with him about it for years. He blamed Divad for what happened and Divad blamed himself. If he hadn't stolen David's life, the monster wouldn't have stolen David. If Divad had done more to heal David instead of-- If he hadn't been selfish, if he'd just put David's needs first the way he's supposed to--

Amy reaches out and holds their system's hand with the Vermillion's hand. It's-- hard and cool to the touch, but-- Divad can feel the comfort Amy is trying to give him.

"I'm sure you did everything you could," Amy says. "I did everything I could to help all three of you, but-- Sometimes we don't know how to help, so all we can do is-- Make a choice. You said you wanted to learn how to get the monster out, to heal David's-- Your system's body. You were trying to make the right decision for your system. And look at what you can do now. You're so powerful and you care so much, of course you would’ve found a way. We took David to so many doctors and no one could help because they didn't understand. But you did and-- And even now, you're helping David because you made that choice. Taking your system to college-- It was the right choice because now that Farouk is out, you really can help the way you always wanted to. Just-- Just like me."

Divad flinches at the comparison even though-- He thought Clockworks was the right decision, too. But by then he couldn't control their body, the monster wouldn't let him help, much less be in charge and fix things. The monster made him a helpless passenger in David's life, forced to watch as David made every wrong decision, trusted the wrong people and took drugs and stole for money and just-- Failed. David failed so completely and Divad had to watch him destroy their body and their life and he couldn't do anything to stop any of it.

And then they finally got David back and everything still went wrong. Divad made just as big a mess of things as David and Dvd. And David even said--

He stops the thought.

"Go on," Ptonomy urges. "We already know what he said, but you need to face it."

Divad swallows and tightens his grip on the Vermillion's hand.

David said what they've been doing to him, it's just like what they did to Syd.

How can David love them if that's what he thinks of them?

David can't love them, not-- He shouldn't love them. They're as bad as Benny, taking advantage of him, using him to get what they want and not caring that they're hurting him. They're as bad as Syd, making him do things he doesn't want to do, making him torture himself because he'll do anything they ask. They should never have come back. When the monster left, they should have stayed in the bedroom and left David alone.

"Leaving David alone wouldn't have helped him," Ptonomy says, gently. "That was our mistake, too. We believed the lie Farouk designed that David could survive on his own, that he didn't need help. In another life, that lie ended the world. It still might. This is your chance to face your mistakes and become a better person. You want to heal your whole system but your system can't heal on its own. You'll just be trapped in the same loops, hurting and healing and hurting, just like you were when the monster was inside you. That's one way he taught you how to be. Don't accept his ideas, don't trust the monster more than you trust yourself. Reject his ideas and choose better ones, ones that will help you the way your medical knowledge helps you. Fight the delusion that his actions were justified, that they were a punishment for your choices, for your system's choices. None of you had a choice about the monster. He invaded your body and chose to make you suffer. He did that, not you. Nothing you did made you deserve that."

"You didn't deserve the monster," Amy insists. "David loves you and you deserve that love. You deserve to build a new, healthy system together. You deserve to have brothers and a sister."

"You deserve to be your own main identity," Ptonomy adds. "To make choices for yourself and be your own person. You have the right to take care of yourself, to want things for yourself. Because you are a good person. You're strong. You've survived so much and you've done it while taking care of the people you love. You deserve to be proud of that. You don't have to do it alone because we care about you, too."

"I love you, Divad," Amy says, fondly. "You're my brother, you really are. I remember helping you with your exams and your college applications. I remember how happy you were when you got in. I helped you pack for school and drove you to your dorm and-- All of that was you. You used to call me and talk about your classes, how excited you were to learn. That wasn't David, that was you, Divad."

It was. It feels like so long ago and he didn't deserve that happiness, it was stolen from David, but-- It was his. David was happy to listen, happy to share Divad's happiness, but-- It was Divad's happiness, not David's. The grades he earned were for Divad Haller, not David Haller.

He's never-- He's never thought of himself that way. Divad Haller. He's always just been-- part of David Haller's system. Even when he was in charge, he was only covering for David, even as weeks turned into months turned into years. He was still only covering for David.

"We know who you are now," Ptonomy says. "We can see you. We know your name. We can hear you. You're not a prisoner and you're not a passenger. You're a person and we want to be with you. David wants to be with you. Let us see you. Let us be with you, all of you, not just the parts of you that you think are safe for us to see. If you hide so much of yourself, you're doing the same thing the monster did. Let all of yourself be seen and heard."

Divad can't keep their heart rate from rising, their stomach from pulling tight. "Those are-- Some good ideas," he admits, tightly. "But you don't understand. Some things need to stay hidden, forgotten, I--"

Divad strains not to think, but-- It's so hard not to think. Thinking was all he was good for, most of the time, when he couldn't do anything else.

"You need to be honest," Ptonomy says, firmer now. "Not just with David and with us, but with yourself. Suppressing yourself like this-- You're pretending to be someone you're not. You're wearing a mask. That sounds like another one of the monster's ideas to me."

Divad tenses as horror makes his control over their body slip. Panic spikes in him and he crushes it back down.

"I'm not a monster," Divad insists, but he pulls his hand away from the Vermillion's grip. He doesn't deserve Amy's compassion, she has no idea who he really is.

"Then tell us," Amy says. "We know things were bad even before you became the main identity. The three of you were tortured all your lives. Farouk must have made you do-- Terrible things to each other. That's what he did to all of us. We'll understand."

"Dvd considers you a threat to David," Ptonomy says. "Not just for becoming your system's main identity for years. We know you've been abusive to David since your return, that you were abusive when you were younger, and that's why you've suppressed your anger. You don't want to hurt him anymore. But suppressing it won't make it go away. It's just like David's memories, everything you're feeling is still inside you, and if you keep ignoring it, it's going to force its way out of you whether you like it or not. And when that happens you're going to hurt yourself and you're going to hurt David. We know you don't want to do that."

Divad knows that, but-- If he lets himself feel, that will hurt David too. He doesn't want to do that. He doesn't want to make their system worse, to set David back when he's finally getting better.

"You deserve to get better, too," Ptonomy says. "David needs you to get better so he can remember you."

"Maybe he shouldn't remember," Divad says, tightly. "He forgot for a reason."

"He forgot because he needed to forget to survive," Ptonomy says. "Now he needs to remember to survive. I know that keeping David alive is the most important thing to you. I know you want to get the crown off so it will stop hurting him and stop trapping you inside your body. But that can only happen when your system is stable. Suppressed emotions and suppressed memories are what make your system unstable."

Divad looks over to see David and Dvd both staring at them, game forgotten.

"No," Divad says, standing up, but there's nowhere to go. Even if he leaves the lab, he'll only bring David and Dvd with him. And Division 3 won't let them leave the building. They can't escape without their powers and he can't escape his system, not with the bedroom still gone.

He's suppressing everything, he's keeping their body under control, but he still can't-- He's still-- Panicking. He's not the one who panics, he's not the one who freaks out because he can't handle a bad situation. He's not the one who blows up everything around them out of anger and fear. He can't blow anything up, he doesn't have telekinesis, but--

"Divad, it's okay," Amy says, standing up and walking the Vermillion towards him. It's probably meant to be comforting but Dvd's right, those creepy robots are not comforting. Amy steps back, hearing his thoughts, and that makes him feel worse in a lot of ways at once.

"Divad, who here can help you calm down?" Ptonomy asks. "David, could you--"

"No," Divad says, forcefully. "No, absolutely not. I take care of myself."

"You can't," Ptonomy says, plainly. "You're sick."

"No," Divad says again, and he knows what's to blame. It's their body doing this to him, making him feel this way. Well he's had enough, he's done. He steps out of it and it falls to the floor.

"Hey!" David protests. He rushes over and stops, crouching over his body along with Ptonomy and Amy. "Can you not just-- Dump our body like that? I trusted you with it."

"You trusted me?" Divad says, still furious. "How much shit have you put into our body, how many drugs and medications we didn't need, and you're mad because I let it fall?"

"Shut your face," Dvd says, immediately between them. "Get away from David and get away from our body. I can't believe I thought you could change."

"Stop this right now!" Ptonomy says, loudly and through the relay so none of them can ignore it. "Divad, was that enough of an example for you? You are not under control, no matter what you tell yourself. You are barely holding on. All of you are barely holding on. And before you can say anything, David, you can't force them to get better. You can't do all the work for your whole system no matter how much you want to. Just like Divad can't. And Dvd, I heard that thought."

"Fuck you, robot," Dvd says, sourly.

Ptonomy ignores that. "I know you're all in pain. I know this isn't easy for any of you. But lying to yourselves about your situation won't help you out of it. Hiding from your past won't make it go away. Ignoring your trauma won't make the pain stop. Divad, Dvd-- One of you two is going to get in your system's body and you're going to talk. No more excuses. Divad? Do you want to be the rational, logical one, or do you want to have an invisible sulk?"

Divad gives Ptonomy the finger.

"He's giving you the finger," Dvd tells, then rounds on Divad again. "And you know what? That's fine by me because I'm gonna be the one who gets better first. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. I was always stronger than you and now I have the chance to beat you at your own game." He gives Divad the finger and practically throws himself into their body.

"Mother-- FUCK!" Dvd yells, clutching their head. "God! You just had to let our body fall and hit our head! God! This stupid crown--" He gives a scream of frustration, then breathes deeply until he calms. He takes Ptonomy's hand and stands up. "Let's do this talking shit, I'm ready." He rounds on Divad. "And don't you dare hurt David again or I will END you!"

Divad seethes at him but doesn't rise to the bait. Calm, he has to be calm. His anger is fading now, but a wave of regret nearly makes him sick. This is like the prison cell all over again, like the desert. He just wants things to be under control but the harder he tries, the worse everything gets. He helped push David into a breakdown and came back and practically told him to kill himself, and the moment he tries to get better he blows up at David again. Just like he's always blown up at David.

David's staring at him, wanting to help him but at a loss for what to do and wary of getting snapped at again. He's thinking about how confusing Divad is, how it hurts when Divad yells at him and how it feeds the delusion inside of him. He's thinking about how he needs to fight the delusion so it doesn't eat him alive.

Divad did that to him. That's what he's done to David for-- God, for so long. He's never been able to stop himself even though he's always known how much it makes David hate himself more. He thought he could stop but he can't. He can't and David can't protect himself, he never could.

"I'm sorry," he tells David, even though it's as worthless an apology as every other apology he’s ever made to David. David steps towards him, but Divad steps back. "Don't," he warns. "Just-- Stay away from me. I'm not safe."

Chapter 53: Day 9: I’ve got plenty to be mad about, believe me. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

Dvd is ready to get this therapy shit over and done with, but he has to sit and wait while Cary checks over their head and the crown. Dvd would be thrilled if it broke, it hurts like hell, but whatever. They can get it off when their system is stable and Dvd is very stable already, so this is gonna be a breeze.

"Everything looks fine," Cary assures them, as Kerry dabs something around the metal embedded in their head. "But please don't do that again. That was very dangerous."

"That was Divad, not me," Dvd reminds him. He protects their body from danger, he doesn't stupidly drop it on the floor. Whatever, Divad will heal it when he gets over himself. Even if he’s sulking, he won’t pass up a chance to be in charge.

"I'd like to do another scan," Cary tells Ptonomy. "Just to make sure."

"Can it wait until after Dvd's session?" Ptonomy asks.

"I’d prefer to do it now, that was a nasty knock," Cary says.

“Forget it, I’m not letting you treat me like a lab rat,” Dvd insists. David puts up with that stuff, not him.

“We all have to do things we don’t like on occasion, for our physical and mental health,” Cary says. “Don’t you care about your body’s condition?”

“Eh,” Dvd shrugs. “Being in charge isn’t my thing. Things break, they heal. As long as I can defend us, I don’t care.”

Cary doesn’t like that. "From now on, your body needs to be scanned regularly, regardless of who’s inside it. The crown was never intended to be a long-term solution. And I need to track the changes Divad is making, see how he's healing your mind. Looking at David from the inside and outside today was very helpful. I’d like us to continue working together."

“David, is that all right?” Ptonomy asks. “Divad?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” David says, tiredly. He’s curled up in one of the loveseats, looking dejected even though he’s trying not to be. He’s resigned to being Cary’s lab rat and barely thinks about it. Instead he thinks about how badly Divad’s session went and how much he hopes Dvd’s will go better. He just wants their system to get better.

Divad doesn’t respond. Not aloud anyway. He must love the relay, he can finally reach the world without needing David or their body.

Dvd isn’t going to hold their breath, not for their whole system. He agreed to therapy in the first place because he thought that Divad wanted to stop hurting David. Obviously that failed. So the whole idea that Dvd was wrong to punish him, the idea was wrong, not the punishment. If anything Divad needs to be hurt more. But that’s exactly why he’s talking to Ptonomy now. Not to help Divad, but to crush him. Divad can’t hack it, as usual, but Dvd can take anything. He and David will get better and Divad will have to be the passenger and that will finally be the punishment he truly deserves.

“Therapy as revenge, interesting,” Ptonomy says.

“You got a problem with that?” Dvd challenges.

“Not at all. If that’s what you need as motivation to get started, that’s fine. What’s important is that you’re here.”

Dvd looks across the room. Divad is sitting in a chair by David’s empty bed, facing away like a punished child. Good. He should be punishing himself for hurting David. Dvd feels bad for David, being stuck alone with Divad, trying not to be sad. All the more reason to get this therapy thing over with so David can be back in their body where he belongs.

“It’s your body, too,” Ptonomy says. “You have just as much right to be inside it as David does.”

“It’s not mine, it’s ours,” Dvd says. Both his brothers should know that but David forgot and Divad is a selfish jerk. “You know what our system needs? It needs you to fix David so we can be together in here. We’re supposed to do everything together.”

“You don’t think you need to change?”

“I keep us safe,” Dvd says. “That’s what I’ve always done and that’s what I’ll always do.”

“That’s not what happened yesterday,” Ptonomy reminds him. “You tried to harass David into killing himself.”

“I made a mistake,” Dvd admits. He’s not like Divad, he can realize he did something wrong and just stop doing it. “I’m never making it again.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“That’s quite a promise,” Ptonomy says. “What if you can’t keep it? What if you do hurt David again? What if you can’t stop yourself? Anger can take control of us.”

“Oh, please.” Dvd rolls their eyes. “I don’t let anything control me. I use my anger, I thrive on it.”

“You’re proud of it?”

“It’s what makes me the strongest,” Dvd declares. “It’s how I keep us safe. And I’ve got plenty to be mad about, believe me.”

“You absolutely do,” Ptonomy agrees. “You know, it’s interesting how DID allows your system to compartmentalize. David barely acknowledges his anger at all, but you embrace it. It’s practically the only emotion you allow yourself to feel. But you do feel other emotions. You feel love for David. You feel sadness and grief at losing your old life together.”

Dvd shifts, uncomfortable. He doesn’t like thinking about that.

“Why not?”

“Sadness is David’s thing, not mine. Sadness fucked David up but it’s not gonna get me.”

“Shame is what hurts David,” Ptonomy corrects. “Shame is a kind of anger. It’s self-contempt, a combination of disgust and anger. That anger makes David punish himself. Isn’t disgust also something you feel?”

“I don’t hate our system,” Dvd defends. “We’re not the problem, the world is the problem. It’s full of idiots like you who think they can help, and monsters like the shit beetle who just want to hurt us. That’s what’s disgusting.”

“Is that why you don’t want to be in the world?” Ptonomy asks. “Why you’re afraid to be alone in your system’s body?”

“I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You know, you and Kerry are a lot alike,” Ptonomy says, thoughtful. “She also spent most of her life on the inside of her system. She coped with her fear of being outside by being defensive, by being strong and defiant and violent when necessary. But something happened that forced her to be in the world and instead of letting fear continue to control her, she’s opening herself up, connecting with people and the world. Putting aside her fear and anger helped her connect with David. They’re friends now and David relies on her, he trusts her and loves her, even though they haven’t been close for very long. They were strangers, just like you and David are strangers to each other. Now— They’re becoming family, along with Cary and Amy. That could be your family, too.”

“Family,” Dvd sneers, disgusted by the word. “You know what family does? They tell you you’re crazy and force you to do things you don’t want, things that hurt you. And then when they can’t handle you, they throw you away. Fuck Amy and fuck family.”

He looks at the Vermillion sitting across the table, but its face is impassive. Amy is just observing their session, apparently, not participating like she did with Divad. But she never knew him so that's just fine.

“But you still want to be brothers with David.”

He’s been trying to but— “You know what? You want honesty? This brother thing is bullshit. We’re not people, we’re not triplets. Divad and me, we’re parts of David and the only reason we exist is to protect David. Divad forgot that and we all paid the price. I don’t forget. If something hurts David, I make sure it doesn’t hurt him again. This idea that we should be in charge, that’s hurt him, that's a delusion. It’s David’s life and we share it with him. If you want us to be stable, that’s how we need to be. Divad needs to get over himself and stop trying to be in charge and David needs to let us share with him.”

“David can’t,” Ptonomy says, firmly. “If you try to force him, you’ll hurt him, just like Divad did. I know that’s frustrating for you but you have to accept it. Whatever you and David had before, however deeply David trusted you, that's gone. David’s memories of you are gone. Your old system is gone. David’s life experience is as an individual person, not as part of your system. He’s trying to accept your system but you need to meet him halfway. You each need to stand on your own so you can be a system together.”

“That’s stupid,” Dvd sneers.

“That’s compromise. It’s also the healthiest option for all three of you. Divad and David both want to be able to live for themselves, to chose their own lives. That doesn’t mean they want to be alone. They both care for you despite your hostility and they want your system to be healthy. You all have to find ways to live with each other, to accept each other, to love each other as individuals and as a system. That relationship? That’s a family. That’s three brothers, deeply connected to each other but also individuals with the ability and the right to live for themselves."

"That's not what we are."

"That's always been what you are," Ptonomy counters. "You've always been three people. You've always had your own individual life experiences and memories and opinions. You think of David as if he's the original and you're just pieces of him. That hasn't been true for a long time. David was one person, now he's a system of three people. The David sitting over there, he's just as much a piece of himself as you are. That's a hard thing for us to accept, but that's how DID works. That's how the mind you share expresses itself. The fact that the David identity shares a name with your system's body creates the illusion that he's different from you, but he's an identity just like you and Divad. And to a degree that's how everyone works. What am I now if not an identity? The mainframe I'm inside contains multiple identities, multiple people. Amy and Lenny aren't mutants, they're not systems, but by sharing our lives we make a system. All relationships are systems. There is no one person who defines a relationship, even when it feels that way. Everyone in that relationship defines it and makes it work, for good or bad."

"You're upsetting David," Dvd warns.

"David needs to hear this just as much as you do," Ptonomy says. "He already knows it but knowing and believing are two different things. He knows he's part of a system and he's trying to believe it, just like he's trying to love you. But he doesn't believe it and he doesn't love you because those things take time and they have to be experienced. The love you shared with David was based on your shared experiences, on the ways you cared for each other and helped each other survive. You still have those experiences but David doesn't. He can't love you back the way you want him to. He can't change himself to fit into the life you used to share. You don't have to believe that now, but you need to know it. You need to try to accept it and try to make it part of you. If you continue to deny it, you'll continue to hurt David. And you have been hurting him. Not just yesterday, but since you came back. You say you've never wanted to be the one in charge, but when you came back both you and Divad took charge of David. You tried to make him a part of you. I don't know all the things you've said to David, but I know you've encouraged him to be angry and self-isolating, to stop trusting the people around him and to hurt the people that hurt him. And if that's the way you are now, if that's the way you've always worked? That means you've always been hurting David. All those years you thought you were keeping him safe, that was you hurting him by cutting him off from his family, by cutting him off from the world. You didn't trust the world so you made sure David didn't trust it either. You didn't think you needed help so you made sure no one would help. David might trust too much now, but before Farouk changed him, you're the one who made sure he didn't trust anyone but you."

"Fuck you," Dvd says, tightly. He's so furious he wants to punch Ptonomy right across his stupid, smug robot face. "You don't know shit."

"If you don't believe me, let's ask David," Ptonomy says, calmly. "David, how does Dvd make you feel? How does it feel when Dvd tells you how you're supposed to be?"

David looks away, ashamed of his thoughts and trying not to have them, trying to dissociate from them so he doesn't hurt Dvd's feelings. So he doesn't make Dvd angry again.

"It doesn't matter what I want," David says, tightly, even as he thinks how uncomfortable he is and how much he wishes he could just be himself. 'None of this is up to me.' "I just want--" 'It doesn't matter what I want.' "We're a system, we have to get better." 'We're never going to get better, nothing's ever going to get better.'

It's painful to listen to, but it must be even more painful for David. Dvd knows how much pain David is in, how much pain their return has caused him. But Dvd has his anger to protect himself from it.

"Anger is a powerful emotion," Ptonomy says. "It's so loud it drowns everything else out. It dulls the pain, but like any drug it dulls everything else, too. You want to be David's brother, you want to fix things with Divad, you want to build a new, healthy relationship with your brothers. But anger drowns all of that out. It makes you sick. It traps you in the past and stops you from moving forward. It dulls your love and grief and empathy and all your other emotions and it makes you just as emotionally abusive to your system as Divad has been. Both of you have been hurting each other and David and yourselves. All of that has to stop. Divad can't repress his anger and you can't survive on it alone. And all that anger? The truth is, that's fear. You're all angry because you're afraid. You're absolutely terrified."

"Of course we're terrified!" Dvd snarls. "There was a monster in our head torturing us for decades and he's still torturing us and he wants to make us end the fucking world! And you idiots think-- You're so fucking stupid if you think you can stop it. I thought I could stop it, I thought I was strong, but it was a trick. It was all just another trick."

"What was?"

God, it's humiliating. "Saving our life," Dvd says, tightly. "I thought I broke through the monster's control to save us. But he let me do it. He let me. He wanted me to do it. Fuck him, I should have let us die. I should have let us hang from that stupid cord until we were dead!"

"He couldn't control your body back then," Ptonomy points out. "For all his power, he was a prisoner of your body from the start. He might have gone inside of you to survive, but once he did that he was trapped. He couldn't get control and he couldn't get out on his own. That's why he had to rely on you and let you protect your system from itself, from Division 3, from anything that physically threatened it. That's why he had to trick David into giving up control. That's why he had to trick Syd into using her powers to pull him from your body. Tricks are all he has."

"Those are some powerful fucking tricks," Dvd says, resisting the urge to hope. Hope is just another kind of torture.

"They are," Ptonomy admits. "He's incredibly powerful and he has centuries of experience manipulating people. But he's not a god. Even with the crown you're more powerful than him. He can't control your system anymore, not from the inside, because you're keeping him out. You're doing that, Dvd. That's not a trick, that's you. That's you keeping your system safe."

"I can't do that without anger," Dvd says. "That's why I'm strong."

"I disagree," Ptonomy says. "Your powers derive from your genetic mutation. Your body was born with those powers. When David fractured, those powers were divided up just like everything else. Your system gave you the ability to defend it and the anger you needed to motivate you as a child, but you don't need that anger to survive anymore. Your love for David and your system is stronger than your anger."

"What love?" Dvd asks, strained. "David doesn't love me. Our system is gone. So tell me, what do I have left to love? What's keeping us alive besides anger?"

"David doesn't have to love you for you to love him. He doesn't even have to be alive. When Amy died he grieved for her out of love. You have to grieve, too. Even though Amy is still alive, even though David is still alive, the people they were have both died. If you want to start repairing your relationship with Divad, you should start there because you're both grieving even if it hurts too much to admit it. The David you knew died in college. He's never coming back."

Ptonomy says those words kindly, but they might as well be a knife flaying Dvd open, stabbing deep into his heart. "No," he says, fighting that grief with everything he has. "David just has to remember."

"The memories are gone," Ptonomy says. "You saw the scan. You know the secret Divad was hiding because he doesn't want to face the truth either. That physical damage is real and undeniable. The loss it represents is real and undeniable. Even if David remembers all his traumatic memories, he won't remember you helping him recover. He won't remember the good things you shared because they weren't traumatic. Farouk took those away and you have to grieve what you lost. You can grieve it together because all of you lost it. Divad lost it and David lost it. Your system lost it. Your system lost so much. You all need to grieve. Be angry, but be sad, let the pain out. Share that experience together. No one else can understand it the way the three of you can, even though each of you understands it differently."

Dvd looks at David, at Divad. They're both-- Barely holding on. They're both in so much pain. And so is Dvd and so is their body. Their body is overflowing with grief and anger and pain, so much that Divad can't hold it back, and it's too strong for Dvd to fight. They should all be bearing it together, inside their body together, but they can't. The shit beetle took that away from them just like he took David. Dvd's been holding on for years hoping that they'd get David back and--

David's never coming back. Not their David. He's dead. He's been dead for years.

"Dvd," Divad says, walking up to him. "David can't share with you, but-- I can. Please, let me--"

"No," Dvd says, but without force. The grief is so overwhelming he can't even be angry. He can't be angry at Divad for hurting David because-- David is gone.

Tears start pouring out of their eyes.

"Oh, fuck this," Divad says, and walks into their body. And then he's there, right there, and being together like this, it's like they're holding each other with their whole body. Their grief doubles and they bend over the table, sobbing, heartbroken, barely able to breathe through the pain.

And Kerry comes over and she-- Holds their body. She holds it so tight. And Cary comes over and holds it too, and it helps, their touch. It doesn't do anything to stop the grief or calm their sobbing but it helps anyway. It helps like Amy used to help, before--

Before. When they were still-- Whole. Fractured but whole, the three of them; inseparable, strong with love and defiant against the monster. They'll never be whole again. David is gone. He's gone forever.

"David," Ptonomy calls, concerned. "David? David!" He reaches over and shakes their arm. "Where's David?"

Dvd turns their head to look and-- Their broken heart sinks. David is curled up in a tight ball. He's gone away again.

Chapter 54: Day 9: Doctor Busker’s gonna keep them safe. (Lenny)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy's going over the recordings from today’s sessions again, listening to David’s thoughts for probably the hundredth time. Lenny didn't keep count, she didn't stick around to watch Ptonomy torture himself. The mainframe might not be her favorite place but it's certainly never dull. She’s had plenty to do, but she did it and now she's back and Ptonomy is still at it, going over the mainframe version of his memories like they’re going to change if he just watches them one more time. She knows that’s what he used to do when he was alive and their old habits didn’t die with their bodies.

It sucks. They thought David had enough love in him to join his brothers in grieving their losses. But their grief was too much and the only people who could have caught it in time were the reason he freaked out in the first place. And the rest of them, relay and all, were so focused on helping the Davids that they didn’t realize David was riding the edge of a breakdown all through Dvd’s session.

They really should know by now what the inside of David's head sounds like when he's having a breakdown. The problem is that his non-breakdown head doesn't sound much better.

"Aren't you the one who said not to love your mistakes?" Lenny asks.

"We can't treat David if he keeps going away," Ptonomy says, tersely. "Sorry. This has been--"

"You've worked yourself and David into the ground," Lenny says. "You gotta blow off some steam before you end up like him and Division 3 has to find someone to give you therapy so you don't end the world."

"If the world survives we're all going to need therapy," Ptonomy says, but the recording stops playing. "David can't save anyone if he's catatonic."

"You know what I keep saying," Lenny says. She told Ptonomy, she told Amy, she told the Admiral. "Take off the crown and let the Davids take care of it." They took care of things in Clockworks, and that was despite Farouk being inside them and their need to stay undercover.

"The Admiral doesn't like the odds," Ptonomy reminds her back. "We need all of David functional to stop Farouk, not-- Two-thirds of him that can barely hold a conversation with each other. And you really should stop calling them that. They have names."

"It doesn't matter what I call them when you won't let me talk to them."

"I've been waiting for the right time to bring you in. David needed to focus on repairing his system, he didn’t need anything else to deal with. But we've hit a roadblock with that, just like we did with the memory work. And now we don't know how long it'll take for him to wake up." Ptonomy sighs. "Are the new androids ready?"

"Just tried mine out," Lenny says. It felt really good to have a body again, even if this one isn't really hers either. Division 3 might be a bunch of fascists but they know how to build an android. "Amy's is waiting for her. I bet that'll cheer David up."

"Once he's awake to see it," Ptonomy says, and sighs again. "You're right, I need a break. And you need to meet the Davids." He gives her a look. "Now you've got me doing it."

"Finally," Lenny says. "Take Amy with you when you go so she can stretch her new legs."

Ptonomy raises his eyebrows at her

"What, don't you trust me?"

"Lenny, you were arrested thirteen times. You spent years in a mental hospital and another year inside other people's heads. You're a drug addict."

"Can't be a junkie without a body," Lenny counters. "And you know what all that shit is? Fucking job experience. Who do you think kept David going in Clockworks, Amy? The orderlies? These other Davids will be a piece of cake. They like me-- Or at least they like me enough to use their mutant powers to scare the living shit out of some creeps."

"You pissed them off when you tried to lie to David," Ptonomy reminds her.

"They'll get over it. Compared to Amy and Syd I have zero baggage.”

“Zero baggage?” Ptonomy asks, disbelieving. “You were Farouk’s mask.”

“The Davids know that wasn’t me,” Lenny insists. “They asked me to save their life and I saved it. I'm not part of Division 3 or Summerland or the Hallers and I’m not an Amy bomb. David still thinks of Clockworks as one of the happiest parts of his life, which is fucking crazy but you know why he thinks that? Because of me. Yeah, Syd, blah blah rainbows and sunshine, but we survived that hellhole together. And so did the Davids. So take me off the fucking bench and let me in the game.”

"Okay," Ptonomy surrenders. "But remember, they're grieving. They need to grieve so they can move forward. And David might wake up at any moment."

"David needs me even more than the Davids," Lenny insists. "See my previous points. I helped with Farouk, now let me help with David. You guys keep breaking him. I said you were torturing him but you wouldn't listen. Maybe I can't put him back together but at least he never 'went away' under my watch."

"Then try not to break your streak," Ptonomy says. "If you need me--"

"Yeah, yeah," Lenny says, waving him away. "You're always watching. Now fuck off, I got work to do."

§

Nobody in that lab is in any shape for more surprises, so they get a big heads-up before Ptonomy gives the okay and leaves. Lenny affects a casual saunter, enjoying being able to casually saunter in a mostly real body, and walks inside.

She’s been watching through Division 3’s surveillance but she can see a lot more with the mostly-real eyes she has now. She sees Syd’s tight wariness and the upset she’s trying to hide. She sees Kerry and Cary’s wariness, too, both unsure of how to treat Lenny after only knowing her as a mask, a bomb, and a threatening Vermillion ghost. She sees Oliver, sitting in a meditation pose, focused on the relay. And she sees David.

But that’s not David. That’s the Davids, Divad and Dvd, still sharing David’s body while the man himself dissociates beyond anyone’s reach, while curled up invisibly in a loveseat. Syd wrote David’s name on a piece of notebook paper and taped it to the cushion back so no one accidentally sits on him. She used her own notebook this time; there's hope for her yet.

The Davids are sitting in the opposite loveseat, looking absolutely miserable. They have a blanket around their shoulders and they’ve been working their way through a tissue box.

“Yo,” Lenny says, and holds out the bag of candy. “Twizzler?”

The Davids look up at her. They look at the bag. They take a Twizzler and stare at it like it might contain an answer to one of the great mysteries of the universe, like why bad shit happens to good people. Lenny’s never figured that one out and she’s stared at a lot of Twizzlers.

“David’s not supposed to have candy,” Kerry whispers to Cary, but not so quiet that everyone else can’t hear.

“It’s fine,” Cary assures her. “In fact, how about we go get everyone a treat? Some hot chocolate, maybe.”

Lenny misses chocolate. She misses Twizzlers. No body means no drugs and no food. No pleasures of the flesh when she ain’t got no flesh. She was promised a real body at the end of all this and she’d better get it.

The Loudermilks step out. Syd’s still hanging back, keeping to herself. Lenny feels a tiny bit bad for her. It sucks getting perspective on your life. But other things suck worse, like being dead twice over.

The Davids take a bite of the Twizzler and chew, staring at the empty spot where David is. Lenny sits on the sofa and listens to them think. There’s a lot going on inside that head, as usual, even though her favorite part of that head isn’t thinking at all.

Dvd and Divad. She should get used to their names. But when they stop being angry for five seconds, they sound so much like David it’s hard for her to keep them apart, other differences aside. She’s no therapist — she’s learned a lot from the mainframe but she not gonna pretend to be something she’s not — but she gets that deep down they’re all just— David thinking he’s someone else. That’s how Farouk thinks of them and he should know.

It’s weird, knowing she was in there with them but didn’t know. It’s like they were stuck in their own drawers for ten years. Who knows how many souls Farouk has stolen over the centuries and shoved into drawers? She didn’t know about Melanie either.

In a way, she’s almost glad she’s in the mainframe. It’s like being omniscient, like she’s the one with mutant powers that let her see everything and hear minds and guard her thoughts. She’s a hero now, too, salaried and everything. She’s never had a real job before. She worked her ass off on the streets but that didn’t come with benefits, just STDs.

She misses her old body, but she totally fucked it over. She’s still ready to, like, get blasted and party for a month straight. But this whole experience is— An experience. Getting one over on Farouk felt a hell of a lot better than losing her head on vapor. She got a taste and now she wants more.

Lenny sticks her face into the Twizzler bag and takes a hit. She can’t eat but she can smell in glorious technicolor. She breathes in and moans.

When she looks up, the Davids are staring at her.

“Want more?” Lenny offers the bag. “I can’t eat. Sucks but—“ She shrugs.

The Davids have a brief internal argument about her. Dvd’s still angry at her for lying to David. Divad is trying to be sensible. David was never very good at being angry or sensible before, in his thoughts or out loud. Because his angry and sensible thoughts were in drawers. Farouk’s drawers, his own drawers. Compartmentalized.

The Davids decide to talk to her because they feel guilty about her being dead twice, because Ptonomy said she was safe, because they both want another Twizzler. David always cheered up for a Twizzler.

She gives the bag a shake and they warily take out two. They eat them together, the two Twizzlers pressed together like they’re one.

Lenny slumps back against the sofa and puts her feet on the coffee table. “So how’s he doing?”

The Davids shrug. “Might be a while.”

“Yeah, he was pretty upset,” Lenny agrees. “Really fucking upset.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping us feel better?”

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” Lenny says. “David wouldn’t be ‘away’ if he was happy hearing all that.”

“Ptonomy tricked us,” the Davids grump, and take an angry bite. “If we’d been doing our jobs David would be fine.”

“Thought you didn’t like lies,” Lenny says. She gets glared at but David’s glares have always been adorable. She resists the urge to pat them on the head. “I was in there, too,” she says, pointing the bag at them. “Even before all this he was a disaster. But he’s our disaster.”

“He’s not our anything,” they say, their face briefly crumpling with grief. “David’s gone.”

“Yeah,” she admits. “Farouk killed him. It fucking sucks. We should, like, hold a wake. Buy a headstone. ‘David Haller, taken too soon.’”

The Davids glare at her again. “Stop mocking us.”

“I’m serious,” Lenny insists. “David’s out cold. You don’t want to grieve him in front of him, I get it. You don’t wanna kick the puppy again. So mourn him now. Hell, I died twice because of the shit beetle. I’m dead just like David. But I don’t have anyone to mourn me so I gotta mourn myself. I can’t even get drunk, that’s such bullshit. You should get drunk for me.”

The Davids look tempted. “We shouldn’t. The last thing David needs is a hangover.”

“So drink a lot of water. Hey, I know where we can get the good stuff.” She turns. “Hey Syd! You know that pity party you’re having?”

“Excuse me?” Syd says, affronted.

“We’re gonna have an Irish wake for me and David,” Lenny tells her. “So go get us something Irish.”

§

Lenny does her due diligence. She's in charge and she can't get drunk anyway so she has to be the responsible one. She tells Ptonomy and Amy to take their time getting back and has Clark run interference to keep Cary and Kerry down in the cafeteria with their hot chocolate. This wake isn’t for them. Maybe Amy should be here for it, but Lenny doesn’t want that. Amy’s not one of them. Even if Farouk killed and tortured her, she’s not one of them.

Lenny tells Syd to pour her a glass of whiskey, too, just so she can savor the smell.

"A toast," Lenny says, raising her glass. "To Lenore Busker and David Haller. Taken too fucking soon."

Syd and the Davids raise their glasses and drink. Lenny takes a long sniff. At least she has a recent memory of being drunk on this stuff, and scent memories are the strongest. She could be like Ptonomy, living in the past until it feels more real than the present.

Eh, maybe not. That didn't work out so well for him, even aside from the insanity monster. Besides, she has a job to do, the same job she did for David and Syd in Clockworks. She has to make sure they survive this hellhole together. It turns out she didn't do it alone, but she's not doing it alone now either. She had a turn at being the invisible helper just like the Davids did, but now everyone can be seen.

It'll take a while for the whiskey to kick in, so Lenny considers her patients. Lenny's watched all the therapy sessions, she knows why Syd's feeling like shit right now even though she can't hear her thoughts. But if Lenny's learned anything from all this, it's that sometimes you need to feel like shit. She spent most of her life trying not to feel like shit but that didn't work out so well for her either.

Not that she's getting sucked into their therapy gangbang. She's done being anyone's patient. But she's not blind. She's not stupid. She's got the Davids blasting their thoughts at her, all their twisted-up and broken rationalizations. Divad and Dvd hate the way David does that, but they do it too. Lenny's starting to think everyone does even if they haven't been tortured. It's hard not to see her own broken thinking in theirs. It's hard not to want to be just a tiny bit better herself. But on her own terms, not anyone else's.

Lenny takes another deep sniff and remembers being alive. She remembers Syd stumbling into her cell, absolutely blasted and reeking of this same whiskey. Syd felt like shit then too. She'd just helped Division 3 force David into therapy. Farouk told her David wasn't real. That's still bullshit as far as Lenny's concerned. Nobody thought she was real for a long time. Her realness is still as uncertain as her status as alive or dead, but-- The David that thinks he's curled up on the loveseat is absolutely fucking real to her. That's her David no matter what he remembers. They both remember things that didn't happen. They remember her being his drug dealer and his drug buddy, even though that wasn't her. Who gives a shit if it happened? They remember it together so it happened to them. And if he could remember Benny for real, she wouldn't care. Sometimes in Clockworks David was so drugged up he barely recognized her, he barely remembered his own name. David was still David.

The Davids aren't ready to hear that. Their memories and David's memories don't match and that's what's torturing them. That's why David can't bear to exist for a while. He's forced to share his existence with two strangers who hurt him and shit, Lenny can barely stand to have roommates. He has every right to be really fucking upset about it. She was upset about Amy but at least it was Amy's body first. It's-- Almost like Farouk did the same thing to him, like David was the first draft. That's what the Davids think, that the monster ripped David out of his system and then put him back wrong.

Lenny really wishes she could drink because it makes her angry that anyone thinks David is wrong, especially himself. She gets why the Davids are upset. David's broken but so what? Everyone's broken. Life is cruel even without monsters making everything worse. David had a fucking monster in his head, he'll never be-- Whatever other people think he should be. Ptonomy knows that, Division 3 knows that now and they need to deal with it. David still can't face it. The Davids are trying, but they're not gonna get very far until they get this grieving shit over with.

Enough thinking. She has a job to do.

Syd's glass is almost empty so she tops it back up. The Davids only had half but she tops their glass up anyway.

"Doctor Busker's prescription," she tells them. "You know what whiskey is? It's a depressant but I like to think of it as staying-alive juice. Syd, you get that, we're old drinking buds. When it hurts to live you take your medicine and you stay alive."

The Davids give her a skeptical look. "I don't think it works that way," they say, and she knows it's Divad doing the talking now. She can hear him thinking about how David got high with Benny and how that didn't help him at all.

"Ptonomy's doing a good job," Lenny admits. "But David called it surgery without anaesthetic and he was right. I looked that up in the mainframe. Before anaesthesia, people would rather die than let some surgeon try to save them. It hurt that fucking much. People had to like, hold the patient down while they screamed in excruciating horrific pain for hours."

"Jesus," Syd says, disturbed, and takes a long sip.

"Yeah," Lenny agrees. "That's what Ptonomy's been doing wrong with all of this. Farouk's the one holding everyone down and Ptonomy's wielding the knife, and you've got this whole support system trying to keep the patients alive. But you have to be awake for this or it won't work, so what this place needs is some fucking vices. That's why they were invented in the first place, to make life tolerable. That's why David dissociates, right? That's why he got high for what, three years straight?"

"We're not going to let you turn David back into a junkie," the Davids say, angrily. They put down their glass.

"Syd has a stiff drink once in a while, that doesn't make her an alcoholic," Lenny counters. "It doesn't have to be chemical. You know how much David loves those magazines. Kerry wouldn't call those nutritious, but fuck nutrition, this is survival. Let David have his waffles and cherry pie if that's what keeps him going. And you need something to keep going, too. That card game stuff? It's cute, it's a way for you to bond with David, but if you're going to survive you need something stronger. This place is a pressure cooker and if we don't blow off some steam, we're all gonna explode."

"You're right," Syd says. "David's been-- We've been trying to save his life but the pain is--"

"Excruciating and horrific," Lenny finished for her. "Take it from me, I've heard it. And not just from David." She looks at the Davids. "If you want to make the torture stop, drink."

The Davids look back, then sigh. They pick up their glass and take a sip.

"That's more like it," Lenny says. "Drink your staying-alive juice so we can have this wake and survive it. Believe me, I'd take that whole bottle for myself if I could. Consider me the designated driver. Get completely fucking blasted so you can let out your damage before it blows you up and takes everyone else with it."

The Davids look at her, uncertain.

“You know what?” Lenny says. “This whole thing is about leading by example, right? So I’m gonna go first even though I am way too sober for this.” Mourning herself. God, it’s such bullshit. But she has to. “The Lenny you knew in Clockworks? She’s fucking dead. She got— Teleported into a wall. Ass on one side, tits on the other. She was a junkie and an alcoholic and got arrested thirteen times for prostitution and generally being a piece of shit. But she was shit because life was shit to her. She got clean and kept her friend David alive.”

She can’t manage any more without crying and she needs to be drunk to cry. It’ll have to wait until she has a real body again.

“You’d better drain those glasses fast,” Lenny warns, and watches angrily until they do. She fills them back up again and breathes over the bottle as if the fumes will somehow numb the pain. They don’t but— The pain passes anyway, dulling to a low ache.

By now the whiskey should finally be starting to take the edge off for Syd and the Davids. Syd’s used to the stuff but she drank more first. She knows her own dosage. Lenny’s not sure how accurate her memories of David are, but she doesn’t remember him being a drinker. He took drugs that made him float away. Whiskey will bring him down. The Davids are gonna be the absolute sloppiest drunks, she can tell. Syd held herself together but no part of David can hold himself together even sober.

That’s okay. Doctor Busker’s gonna keep them safe.

"Syd, your turn," Lenny says. "You didn't die but you lost a David. You're never gonna get what you had with him back because that David is dead. He knows it and you know it. You're the strong one. So be strong and show these guys how to grieve."

Syd stares at her glass like the promise of relief it bears is the only thing getting her through. It probably is. Ptonomy might know how to cut people open and sew them back together, but he has a lot to learn about helping them survive their pain. Love's great but it only gets you so far.

"David was--" Syd takes a shaky breath and starts again. "My David was-- Sweet. Gentle. He loved making me smile. He was-- Fragile. He was so sick. I loved-- His joy. Even when he shouldn't have-- He loved me when-- I didn't feel loved by anyone. He listened and-- He never wanted to hurt me. He made me feel-- Seen. Known. Like-- I mattered, when the world told me I didn't matter. I wanted him to leave with me but-- He was too sick to leave. And when he left anyway, his sickness got worse until-- I killed him. I shot him and-- My David died."

She can't say anymore, even with tears falling silently from her eyes. She drinks fast, draining her glass before hurriedly filling it back up again. She sits back and lets the tears fall, breathing and staring down at her glass.

"Now tell us about your David," Lenny tells the Davids. "Tell us how he died and say how you want to remember him."

The Davids already look like they're going to fall apart and they haven't even started yet. Lenny and Syd, they're not Kerry and Cary, they're not-- easy to touch. They have baggage and complications. But if there's anything constant about all the Davids, all the different versions and pieces of him, it's that he needs to hold someone's hand. He needs the comfort of touch to survive.

Lenny reaches out and offers her hand, and the Davids take it. It doesn't matter that her body isn't human. Syd reaches out and they take hers too. Whatever issues the Davids have with Syd, they don't matter right now.

The Davids look at the seat opposite them, seeing David himself rather than the paper with his name on it. David isn't dead, he's very much alive and he'll come back to them like he did before. But he needs their help so he can stay.

The Davids are trying, but it's hard. They need help, too.

"You can do this," Lenny urges. "David needs us to deal with our shit so he can deal with his. He can't get better if we keep making him worse, dragging him backwards. David's ready to move on. We have to let go of who he was so we can move on with him."

"She's right," Syd says, and puts down her drink to wipes at her tears. "David wants to be with us, to love us. But he can't do that if we keep hurting him. If we love him, we have to-- Let him become who he wants to be. We have to let go of who he was."

The Davids start crying, breathing in harsh, tight sobs. They hold Syd and Lenny's hands tightly.

'We waited so long,' Dvd thinks, mournfully. 'It's not fair.'

'We have to do this,' Divad thinks, determined. 'For David. For our system. Our new system.'

'I just want him back,' Dvd pleads.

'He's right here,' Divad tells him, gently. 'That's our David. But-- We can't see him, not until we stop looking for what isn't there.'

'It hurts so much.'

'Then we'll drink until it stops hurting,' Divad thinks. 'And we'll drink a lot of water and when David comes back we'll-- We won't make him feel-- Invisible. Like he's only-- His pain. He's not-- We're not just our pain. Our system is love, remember? That's what David wants for us. We have to do this for him.'

'For David,' Dvd agrees, his thoughts anguished.

"David--" the Davids begin. "Our David. He was-- Brave. Kind. He loved us-- So much. All he ever wanted for-- Us, all of us, was-- To be safe. He didn't want-- He never wanted anyone to suffer. He-- We were-- We--" They stop, struggling. "We would have done anything to save him. But he--" They stop again, barely able to speak. They take shuddering breaths until they can. "The monster-- Killed him. Ripped him away and-- Erased him. And he was-- Without us, he was so afraid, so-- Alone and-- Confused and-- He thought-- He couldn't--"

"Remember him the way you want to remember him," Lenny says.

The Davids give a wounded sob. "He was ours. We were his and he was ours. We survived together, so many awful-- We survived them together. We were everything to each other. He was the only thing that mattered. He needed us. We survived for him and he-- He survived for us. But he-- The monster-- He forgot us. We were supposed to-- But he forgot us."

"He wasn't strong enough," Syd says, with understanding.

The Davids shake their head.

"We survived but he couldn't," Syd continues. "And it hurts so much, being left behind. We just want him back. But he's gone. Those Davids are gone. We can't punish him for-- Not being them. He didn't chose to leave us, he was taken. We can't punish him for coming back changed. What matters is that he came back. We could have lost-- All of him. But we didn't."

"We didn't," the Davids echo, calming.

"But we can remember our Davids," Syd says, with a sad, bittersweet smile. "You can tell us all about yours. When my David was gone, I used to talk to Amy and-- She told me stories about her David. Tell us your stories. We'll drink and-- We'll listen, okay? And that-- That will keep him alive for us until-- He comes back. And when he does, we'll-- Love him as he is."

The Davids take a deep breath and let it out, the overwhelming pain receding like a tide. "Okay," they say, and they let go of Syd and Lenny's hands so they can drink.

Chapter 55: Day 9: The dose makes the poison. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

Kerry's never had hot chocolate before and she's not sure she wants to. Cary likes it and he wouldn't encourage her to eat something bad for her, but it's full of sugar and she knows about how bad that stuff is for bodies now. She knows that cream soda is full of sugar, too, so she hasn't let herself have that for days, even though it's the only food she really likes. Cream soda is— Her waffles. She thought it was good for her but it wasn't. So hot chocolate can't be good for her either.

She might risk it anyway because Cary's drinking his, but she has another threat to deal with. Clark came in just after they placed their order and just sat himself down at their table without being invited, and Cary definitely doesn't like Clark and Kerry doesn't either. Apparently the lab is off-limits until Lenny says it's okay for them to come back. Kerry absolutely doesn't like that. Leaving David alone with Syd is obviously a terrible idea. Except it's not David inside him, it's Divad and Dvd, and Lenny's there, too.

Kerry doesn't know what to think about Lenny. Lenny shot those guys in the desert for her and she saved David's life, and that counts for a lot. It wasn't really her that forced Kerry to be outside, that tried to kill her in the fake Clockworks, that possessed her and made her hurt Cary's spleen. But if she was safe for David, Ptonomy would have let her come back to the lab days ago, like he did with Amy. And she tried to lie to David to trick him into making her a body, as if he could. And—

Whatever. Cary trusts Ptonomy and Ptonomy trusts Lenny. So Kerry's going to trust her, for now, assuming she doesn't make David's brothers worse. Right now the threat she has to deal with is Clark.

It's just like when Clark brought David his lamp. He came to deliver something and he delivered it, but he's sticking around anyway because he wants to talk about something else. And Cary is just like David was, wary about whatever words Clark wants to deliver. Kerry is tempted to kick Clark in the shins until he leaves. It worked with Dvd. And Clark deserves to be kicked in the shins for trying to help David kill himself with the genetic sculpting gun. He deserves to be punched in the face for that and maybe even stabbed in the heart twice.

Clark's hot chocolate arrives and he stirs it, considering his hostile audience. The spoon clinks against the mug. He picks up the mug but the drink is too hot so he blows on it and then puts it back down.

"We need to discuss Melanie," Clark says. "I'm sorry but she's not going to wake up, any more than David is going to get back his memories."

"Oliver will find her," Cary insists.

"We also need to discuss Oliver," Clark says. "He's dedicated himself to assisting with David's recovery and we're grateful. But we have two brain-damaged mutants in that lab and it's time we talked long-term solutions."

"Oliver doesn't have brain damage," Cary insists.

"Have you checked?" Clark counters. "Because you missed it with David."

"David's MRI scans were never completed in Summerland," Cary says. "We knew something was wrong with his memories but we didn't know what."

"You scanned him when he came back."

"We were looking for the monk's infection. And there were other priorities, priorities that Division 3 insisted on."

Clark gives his hot chocolate another stir. "All the more reason to make their health our priority now. We support your plan to track David's physical recovery. We agree with you that Division 3 isn't able to provide the right kind of long-term supportive environment. We're a military organization, not a therapeutic one."

"I'm sure you'll be glad to get rid of us," Cary mutters, and sips from his mug.

"Actually, I won't, and neither will the Admiral. I know we've had our differences—"

Cary snorts.

"—But Division 3 is trying to be better. Isn't that why you came here in the first place?"

"That's what Melanie wanted. And now you want to, what, put her in care?"

"The Admiral wants to freeze her," Clark says. "Cryogenic suspension."

"No," Cary says, reflexively.

"The alternative is letting her body atrophy for months, possibly years. It worked for Oliver. The technology's come a long way in twenty years. It's very safe."

"Freezing Oliver didn't give him brain damage," Cary says, angry at the implication.

"Have you checked?"

Cary huffs and leans back, rubs his face. "We didn't have time to check because you came in and tried to kill us. And then—" He sighs, frustrated, upset. "He was effectively in solitary confinement for twenty-one years, that would be enough to make anyone— And having Farouk in his head for a year can't have helped."

"Neither did being mentally tortured. And he was forced to help destroy the love of his life," Clark adds. "What was it Divad said? David's broken open. He forgets, he keeps secrets, but when something's wrong with him everyone knows something's wrong. Oliver's quiet but he doesn't even know what day it is. His powers still work but that's about it."

"He isn't some— Dementia patient," Cary says, sharply.

"But he is sick," Clark counters. "He needs help."

"We need him for David's treatment," Cary insists. "Unless you want him to end the world."

"We're balancing a lot of concerns," Clark says. "The Admiral is trying to find the best way to avert a lot of terrible futures. If we let Oliver continue to search for Melanie while his issues go untreated, the next time he leaves the odds are high that he won't come back."

"He wants to help David."

"And if he's gone so long he forgets who David is?"

Cary looks distraught. Kerry takes his hand and he gives her a tiny smile in thanks.

"Look, I have a family," Clark says, plainly. "I put my life on the line because doing my job keeps them safe. We all have to do things we don't want to stop something worse from happening. You have a job to do, too. You have to start doing it. And if your personal issues are what's getting in the way of that, deal with your issues."

Cary frowns, thinking.

"I'll be in touch," Clark says. "We expect updates on both their conditions. Daily scans for David and a thorough baseline for Oliver. Find out what's wrong with him and we'll discuss the next steps."

"Fine," Cary agrees. "But we'll get Melanie back."

"Not without David's help," Clark says. "If you want to keep her body with you in the lab, help Oliver so he can help David. Help both of them with the tools you have. That's what all of us are doing. And if those tools aren't enough, accept your limitations and let us help Melanie so she doesn't come back to a body that's not worth living in."

Clark slides out, nods to Kerry, and then he's gone, his hot chocolate left behind.

Kerry turns to Cary. "Do you want me to punch him in the face? Because I want to punch him in the face."

Cary gives a strained laugh. "No, that's— While I appreciate the offer, I don't believe that would be wise."

Kerry looks through the windows at the hallway. Two Vermillion walk past but there's no one inside them. "Do we really have to freeze Melanie?"

"I don't know," Cary sighs. "But bodies— They need to have someone inside them. I've been taking care of Melanie's body but— If it takes too long to get her back, that won't be enough. That's why we had to freeze Oliver. But knowing what we know now—" He looks away, disturbed by something. "Clark's right. We don't know enough about what happened. We don't know what's truly wrong with Oliver and we can't help Melanie until we figure that out. I can't risk— Trapping her in an ice cube, too. That would be— Terribly cruel."

Cary stirs thoughtfully and takes a sip. He puts down his mug and finally notices that Kerry's is untouched. "You should drink it while it's still hot. Otherwise it would be called— Lukewarm chocolate." He smiles at his own joke.

"Clark didn't drink his," Kerry defends. Not that she trusts Clark, but he pays attention to threats, he knows things that even Cary doesn't know.

"He did that to make a point," Cary explains. "Eating with someone, sharing a meal, that's an intimate act. Clark— He was going through the motions of sharing with us to trick us into letting down our guard. But he didn't eat because he has no genuine intention of being our friend. It's a kind of— Tactical move."

"Sneaky," Kerry says, but files the idea away for later. She doesn't like Clark but she likes a good tactical move. Maybe she should start paying more attention to Clark, like she's paying more attention to Ptonomy. Ptonomy's the fashion guy, but Clark's the tactics guy. Though Ptonomy is also a tactics guy.

"That's why Clark didn't drink his," Cary says. "So why don't you want yours?"

"Because it's not in our meal plan," Kerry says, firmly. "You shouldn't've had it either. Sugar is poison, you showed me. You're already— You shouldn't eat poison."

Cary's amused by this, then he frowns. "Is that why you haven't had any cream soda for a while?"

Kerry nods. "It's stupid that it tastes good. Poison should taste bad so you know not to eat it."

"That would make things easier," Cary admits. "But you don't like how a lot of nutritious food tastes. Some healthy foods taste bad and some unhealthy foods taste good. It's not always that way, of course, but it's a problem many people have. Sweet things are— Quite delicious. But it's about— Moderation. It's okay to have treats sometimes, when we really want or need them. That's why they're treats. We just shouldn't have them every day or with every meal. It's a matter of dosage. Like any chemical, the dose makes the poison."

Now that Kerry understands. She knows all about dosages. "You should have just told me that in the first place," she says, rolling her eyes. She picks up the mug and sniffs it. It does smell— Okay. She takes a sip.

Wow. Hot chocolate is— Wow. It's even better than the cream soda! She didn't think anything could be better than that.

"Ah, ah, not so fast," Cary urges as she gulps it. He shakes his head in amusement. "At least you gave it time to cool down first."

Kerry finishes her mug and takes Clark's. If he's not going to have it, she's not going to let it go to waste.

"Kerry!" Cary chides, but he doesn't stop her. She does drink this one more slowly. It's still pretty hot.

Cary stirs what's left of his hot chocolate and gets his thinking face on.

"I'm afraid Clark's right," he decides, after a while. "I have been— Remiss, in my duties. David and Oliver are our friends but they need more than just our support. Otherwise we're— Making the same mistakes we've already made with both of them. The same mistakes that made us overlook Melanie and Ptonomy when they needed help. Division 3 is— A much more dangerous environment than Summerland ever was. I didn't want to let this place change us, but— We need to adapt to our environment to survive."

"Okay," Kerry says, putting down her half-empty mug. "So how do we adapt?"

"Let's consider where we've failed," Cary says. "Division 3 is a physical and technological fortress, but that hasn't protected us from quite a number of threats. Our minds are vulnerable and so are our bodies. Let's set aside David and Oliver. They're our patients, we have to keep them safe, not the other way around. So what do we have?"

Kerry considers their assets. "You and me. Syd, Clark. Admiral Fukuyama and the Vermillion and everyone in the mainframe. Division 3's soldiers and scientists. The mainframe, the surveillance system, the lab, the armory."

"Good," Cary says. "And how have we been attacked?"

"Ptonomy was killed by an insanity creature. Those got into all of us." Kerry doesn't like thinking about the sensation of having the tiny insanity monster pulled out of her forehead. It was weird and creepy. "The monk snuck in with his victims. His mind couldn't be read and he had the virus and— Whatever he did to control the kids."

"More mental powers," Cary says. "We still don't know how the insanity creature got in, or even what it was. The best I've been able to surmise is— It was some kind of construct that crossed over from the astral plane. An infectious one, just like the monk's virus." He visibly thinks harder. "The symptom alerts were intended to help us be aware of mental alterations, but— They failed because there's no way to know when our own minds have been changed. Once they're changed— We simply believe what our minds tell us we believe."

"Creepy," Kerry says, not liking that at all. "How are we supposed to protect ourselves if we don't even know something's wrong?"

"That's the very problem we keep running into," Cary admits. "David, Melanie, Ptonomy, even Syd. None of them knew they'd been changed or by the time they realized— They were unable to resist those changes. What we need is— A mental defense system. With organic infections we have blood tests and medications and our immune systems. With computers we have firewalls and special programs that can identify and remove malicious code."

"So we need a mental firewall," Kerry says. "Dvd can do that."

"That's something only telepaths are capable of," Cary says. "Division 3 has already done extensive research on defenses against telepathy. That's what led to the creation of the mainframe. It's not possible to create an external defense against a mind reader. The defense must be generated from inside the mind. Implanting that kind of technology— Few would survive the drastic surgery required."

"Then— We need a way to check if we're infected," Kerry says. "Like the blood tests, but— Our minds."

Cary considers this. "Perhaps David and Oliver aren't the only ones who need to be scanned. Division 3 have our fingerprints and DNA, but what they need to do is take thorough scans of our bodies and our brains and repeat them on a regular basis. Obviously there will be changes over time, aging and other natural processes, injuries and so on, but— Our minds and our bodies are— If not indivisible, at least deeply interconnected. The monk's mental virus was physically detectable. So were the insanity creatures and so was Farouk, even as a disembodied mind. Mental invasions may not be visible, but— Their effects are."

That makes sense, but— "What about souls?"

"I'm not even sure what a soul is," Cary admits. "But— Thanks to Syd, we do have confirmation that they exist and can be separated from the body. Perhaps the embodied mind is— The integration of the soul with the body. Farouk's soul left his body and entered into David's body. We know that because he was able to free himself using Syd's powers."

"Do David and his brothers all share a soul? Do we?"

"I don't know," Cary says. "I would guess that they do. Divad and Dvd are parts of David, not separate individuals that entered his body. When Syd swapped with David, all three of them must have been present in her body, not just David, because they are all David. As for us— When Syd touched you, the process was disrupted by Farouk. Beyond that, none of us have ever thought to ask her."

They look at each other, and— It's—

"I've always wondered," Kerry admits. "If we're— One person or two. I mean, we have our own bodies, but— I always felt like— Your body was ours. And mine was— Just— Something I wore for a while, until I could be in our body again. But now I'm outside and— My body is ours but— It's mine. And yours is just— Yours."

"Yes," Cary agrees. "I suppose— We could ask. I'm sure Syd would agree to help. But— I'm not sure I want to know."

"What if only one of us has a soul?" Kerry asks. "Does that mean— One of us isn't real?"

"No," Cary says, firmly. "David, Divad, and Dvd are all equally real, even though they share a body and a soul. If we're like them, if we're— We'd be two minds— Two identities whose mutant powers allow us to— Embody ourselves separately. Like astral or mental projection, but— Physical."

"Physical projection," Kerry says, wondering. She's intensely aware of her body, of Cary's body. Of the sensations of the seat beneath her, the table under her arm, the lingering taste of the hot chocolate in her mouth. Her clothing and how it wraps around her body and holds it.

"I know you want to— Understand yourself better," Cary says. "If you want—"

"No," Kerry says, then— "Maybe. I— I have to think about it." It's such a huge question and she never thought she'd get an answer. She still might not. But the idea of certainty is— As tempting as it is terrifying. She doesn't want to have a separate soul from Cary, but— She also doesn't want to not have a soul, or—

"Kerry," Cary says, gently. "You know— Whatever we find out, if we choose to find out— It won't change anything. Just like me being older— It didn't change what we are to each other. You're still— My other half. My twin. No matter what we look like and— No matter what we are."

She meets his eyes and sees the love in them. She relaxes. "You are, too," she says, though it feels inadequate to say. Cary has always been better at words than her, better at ideas. Not because she's incapable of them, but— Because she didn't try more. She didn't risk herself more. She hid for so long and now she's far behind him.

But she's outside now. She just has to keep trying and— She'll catch up. A little at a time. There's a lot to learn but she'll catch up.

"Okay, so souls are real," Kerry says, getting back to the problem at hand. "And minds and souls and bodies are connected but separate things. And our powers are— Physical. Genetic. But some powers, mental powers— They don't need bodies to work."

"Perhaps those powers are also part of the soul or the mind. People like David and Oliver, they astral project. The soul leaves the physical body, taking the mind and conscious awareness with it. But they're more powerful when all aspects of their existence are combined. That's why Farouk needed his body back. Even if we can survive without our bodies— We need them." Cary snaps his fingers, excited. "That's what happened to Oliver. It wasn't the cryogenic suspension, we'll check but I don't believe that's the cause. It wasn't even the astral plane itself. If we use Oliver as our guide— I believe extended use of astral projection has negative effects. Without our bodies we start to drift, to lose ourselves. It took years of periodic astral projection for Oliver to wander too far but eventually he did. Thinking back— It didn't happen all at once. We thought he was— busy, distracted, but— Melanie was worried for a while. She tried to get him to stop but— By the time we realized something was wrong, it was already too late. And David— He spent a great deal of those two weeks outside of his body. A small factor in the grand scheme of things but— Important nevertheless. Perhaps with astral projection, like so many things, the dose makes the poison. Disconnect the soul from the body for too long and the mind— Loses coherence."

"Is mental projection as bad?" Kerry asks. David is mentally protecting now, and Divad and Dvd do it a lot.

Cary hums in thought. "With mental projection, the soul remains inside the body. The mind itself is displaced but— I should think it's much safer."

"What if your soul is in someone else's body?" Kerry asks.

"That's a very good question," Cary says, and he feels very far afield but— "Farouk became a parasite, drawing strength from David without giving anything back. But without his own body, David's body would have been— Influential, perhaps even formative without strong mental resistance. Farouk latched on to David for revenge, to survive, but— Then he couldn't get out. He must have found himself struggling to maintain his sense of self. That kind of extreme mental strain—"

Kerry's eyes widen. "What about Ptonomy? And Amy and Lenny? They don't have bodies."

Cary considers this. "Ptonomy and Amy both expressed— A sense of being different without their bodies. Perhaps for short periods, that kind of detachment can be therapeutic, giving relief from the physical body and a fresh perspective. Oliver initially thrived with periodic astral projection, it's part of what made him so effective in helping others. But after a while, he became— Detached. Dispassionate. Not all the time. I believe— when he was more engaged, it coincided with the periods where he remained in his body for longer, when circumstances kept him from projecting. Perhaps returning the soul to the body helps restore the mind's coherence." He frowns. "That means— Bodies don't just needs minds. Minds need bodies. The longer it takes to find Melanie, the more her mind will lose coherence."

"But she'll get better, right?" Kerry asks. She doesn't want Melanie to lose coherence. She was already acting weird even before she left her body. "When she's back in her body, she'll heal?"

"Yes," Cary agrees. "Though that will depend on how long it takes to reunite her soul and body. Lenny was quite detached when she first returned, but her time in her body helped her greatly. Oliver didn't remember Melanie at first but he does now. Clearly healing takes time. Let's add mental tests to Oliver and David's recovery plan. And as you pointed out, Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny don't have real bodies to go back to. Perhaps these android forms will act as— A kind of prosthesis or chemical supplement. Ptonomy has seemed more engaged with the world with his new android. Hopefully Amy and Lenny will feel the same. But— As Clark said, we have to consider the long-term. Without their bodies, the three of them will eventually begin to display the same symptoms that Oliver did. And like Oliver, they may be unable to recognize those symptoms within themselves. That means they're our patients, too. We have to help them, track their condition."

"And we have to scan everyone with a body," Kerry insists.

"You know, there is one benefit to the mainframe," Cary says. "It has data redundancy. So if the worst happened, we could in theory— Restore them from a backup. They would revert to an earlier version, lose whatever experiences they had since then, but— They would also lose whatever damage they incurred. In theory."

"That's a theory we don't want to test," Kerry says. The whole idea of it creeps her out. The whole idea of being reverted like that, being forced to forget, it's weird and creepy. It's too much like what Farouk did to David.

"Agreed," Cary says, meaningfully. "Let's speak to Clark and arrange to get the equipment we need. Division 3 can upgrade their security procedures and we'll take care of our own people. Hopefully this isn't all closing the barn door after the horses have escaped."

"More like— Locking the henhouse with the fox inside," Kerry says.

"Oh, I like yours better," Cary says, approving.

Kerry preens. She's getting good with words and ideas now that she's had more practice.

Chapter 56: Day 9: The good news is— We're alive. (Amy, Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Amy looks in a mirror, and for the first time in weeks, she sees herself in her reflection. She puts her hand over her mouth and sees her hand cover her mouth. Her eyes crinkle with emotion and she can feel them crinkling.

She's herself in the mainframe, but— She didn't realize how cut off she felt there until now, until the full, real world rushed back into her senses through her new, artificial body. She breathes in and she smells the air, the concrete and metal of Division 3. The smell reminds her of the compound where she was held prisoner, brings back the memories in a sensory rush.

They're not pleasant memories and she always avoided them before. But if Amy has learned anything from all of this madness, it's that even her bad memories are something to cherish. It's better than having no memories at all. And the simple act of smelling the air and having it trigger a memory— She can't take that for granted anymore either.

She might still be dead, but in this body she feels alive. She feels impossibly grateful.

"Thank you," she tells Ptonomy, and hugs him. Up close, the artifice of their bodies betrays itself, but— It's real enough for her. She knows it will be real enough for David.

"Thank the Admiral," Ptonomy says, but he's happy too. "He made all of this possible."

"I will," Amy promises. It would be easy to open her eyes in the mainframe and reach out to him now, but she needs to be— Present in her body. Like David does. She needs this. She can't believe how much she needed it.

She understands now why Ptonomy needs to be outside, why David does. She needs to be outside, too, to feel— The sun, the breeze. To smell and hear the city living around her. To feel the rough pavement under her shoes. She has shoes again, her own clothes and shoes.

"It looks like Lenny has everything under control," Ptonomy says. "Where would you like to go?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the area," Amy says. She navigated her way to the clothing store to help with Kerry, but beyond that—

"Then let's just go out and walk," Ptonomy suggests. "Your new body was designed for you, but you still need time to get used to it. Let's get your feet under you."

§

They stroll around the city. No one looks twice at them. The Vermillion aren't exactly an unusual sight in this city, but they usually don't go shopping or have to talk down young women from panic attacks in clothing stores. Amy drew a lot of stares in the Vermillion. Now— She's normal. Or at least— She passes for normal.

She never truly felt the distinction before. How— Isolating it is, to be so different but have no one see. It's a relief but— It's also—

She smiles at people as they pass and they smile back. There's a baby in a stroller and she stops to greet it. She buys a newspaper at a bodega and has a pleasant chat with the owner. His son has been helping with the store for years but he's finally going back to college to finish his degree.

They find a bench in a small park and sit down together. It feels so good to exist again, to feel real. She opens the newspaper and skims it, catching up with the world she thought she'd never live in again. She could look at the whole world from inside the mainframe, see all the news, but—She likes holding the paper, the feel of it, the rustling sound as she turns the pages. It's— Tactile. Grounding.

She folds the newspaper and sets it aside. She takes a deep, cleansing breath and lets it out.

"Better?" Ptonomy asks.

"God, yes."

"You look better," Ptonomy says. "I know all of this has been difficult for you. The mainframe, the Vermillion, David. Thank you for your help today."

"I just wish I could do more," Amy says. It's hard hanging back, watching David struggle with himself, knowing— She has to let him struggle. She has to let him suffer. Not because of Farouk, not anymore, but— There's simply no way for them to—

David has to heal himself. They can help, they are helping as much as they possibly can, but— He's broken and they can't just glue him back together. They can't medicate him better. However much he can heal, he has to do the healing.

She just wishes she'd been able to stop him from going away again. She wishes she could hold him so he would know he's loved and that everything will be okay. She hasn't truly been able to do that for a long time. And now she has a body that's good enough to do it, but David is— Gone. Invisible and catatonic and beyond comfort as well as pain. When she thinks of how many times he must have gone away, how many times Dvd and Divad had to cover for him—

Maybe she can't do more right now, but— She didn't do enough for him then. She truly didn't. And their parents, however well-intentioned— Their fear and secrecy did so much damage. She still loves them, misses them deeply, but— She's angry with them for lying to her. For not trusting her with David's powers even when they had to trust her with everything else about him. She would never have let anyone hurt him, she wouldn't.

"Do you want to talk?" Ptonomy asks.

Any shakes her thoughts away. "Oh no, I'm just— Woolgathering."

"I've had a lot of practice reading emotions on David's face," Ptonomy says. "You make a lot of the same faces. And you know how this works, how we're surviving this. If you're upset, you need to talk about it."

"You already have your hands more than full."

"You're not my patient," Ptonomy says. "But with everything we're going through, I think we can call each other friends."

"I'd like that," Amy says, smiling for him. Perhaps they're a bit more— Therapist and supportive family member rather than friends, but— They're also two people trapped in a terrible situation together and trying to survive it. They're going through that as equals. Ptonomy's the one who saved her from being a prisoner in her own body, who stopped her from being the catalyst for a lot of pain for David and the world. She's trying to help him, too. That's how this works, how they're going to survive this. Helping each other.

"I'm angry at Mom and Dad," Amy admits. "They— I know they thought they were doing the right thing, keeping David safe, but— They lied to me about so much. They hurt David. And— I know exactly how they must have felt. How— Scared and helpless and— I know they thought they were doing the right thing. But I'm angry at them and at myself and— Even David."

Even though he didn't want to have all those awful things happen to him, even though none of it was his choice— She's still angry with him. He lied to her, too, just like Mom and Dad. He doesn't remember it anymore but she does. Or— Parts of him remember it. Divad and Dvd remember. She could talk about it with them, but— They barely want to talk to her at all.

"How's the lab?" Amy asks. She could look herself but—

"Productive," Ptonomy says. "They're having a wake. Lenny's unorthodox to say the least, but I can't argue with her results. She's getting Syd, Dvd, and Divad to process their grief."

"Oh, that's wonderful," Amy says, relieved. "After Dvd's session I was so worried."

"They'll be all right," Ptonomy assures her. "Dvd loves David. If he has to let go of their past to be with him, he'll do his best to let it go."

"It's still so strange, David having these— Relationships with himself," Amy admits.

"His situation is incredibly unique," Ptonomy says. "A system like his— Clearly they were co-conscious and deeply cooperative. They must have loved and trusted each other unconditionally despite how things went wrong. And then Farouk took all that away. It's as hard for them to accept David as a separate person as it is for David to accept that they're a system. But they're all trying."

"They are," Amy agrees. She's heard their thoughts, she knows how hard they're all trying. David— All the parts of David want to reconcile. Even though they can't be one person again, they want to be— A healthy system made of three brothers who love each other. She wants that for them, too.

"Is it wrong that— It's harder for me to see them than hear them?" she asks. "Listening to them existing together— It was strange at first, but— Seeing David switching like that, It's hard not to— See them all as David acting strangely and not— Being Divad and Dvd. Even though— They were the ones who used to pretend to be him. Divad was him for years, I— I didn't know."

"They were good at pretending," Ptonomy says.

"I should have known," Amy insists. "I should have known about his powers, I did know. But— I pretended not to. We were all pretending that everything was normal, as if— If we just pretended enough that would make it true. Like— David trying to make himself believe he already loves his brothers."

"We can't believe things if we know they aren't true for us. We can try but deep down— Whether the ideas are our own or someone else's, we'll reject them. That's the problem with the delusion parasite. It has such a hold over David's system, it makes them believe things they know they shouldn't. They know they didn't deserve their suffering and we've seen moments of understanding, but they can't believe it yet. We just have to keep helping them believe it."

"I hope we can," Amy sighs. "It's awful watching him— Punish himself. The way each part of him takes out his anger on the other parts and themselves. David never liked to show his anger but— I had no idea how bad it was. How much he's been— Tearing himself apart, all this time."

"They have a lot to be angry about. But they need healthy ways to express that anger so they can stop punishing themselves with it. I've been reading up on anger management techniques. Maybe once they've grieved they'll be ready for them."

"They really are keeping you busy," Amy says, sympathetic. "David was always a handful but— I'm so impressed by how much you've helped him."

"He should have had real help from the start, Ptonomy says, an edge of anger in him. "He had a monster in his head making sure nothing could help him, but— That doesn't excuse my own mistakes. I had a lot of good reasons to be angry, too. I still do. But I took that anger out on David. I even took it out on you. I doubt anyone ever told you, but— I tried to stop David from going to save you when you were held captive by Division 3. Even though we knew you were being tortured, I considered you an acceptable loss. I'm sorry. That was wrong."

Amy stares at him, taken aback. Ptonomy does seem to be genuinely sorry, but it's— Unsettling, to hear that he was willing to let her be tortured. Being tortured was bad enough, even if that seems like a paper cut compared to what she's endured since then.

"Well," she says, searching for how to respond. "That's— I suppose—"

"It's okay," Ptonomy says. "You don't have to try to make me feel better about it. But I don't want that between us. I don't want that to hurt us. I— There's always been a part of me that— Wanted David to be— Unsalvageable. The mad god that had to be destroyed to save the world. I wanted to punish him, I wanted to take my anger out on him. He was dangerous and unstable, he was a liar, he got Rudy killed, he got me killed. When I woke up in the mainframe I was— Numb at first, just— Struggling to understand where I was, what happened to me. When the shock wore off I should have been furious, but— I couldn't be angry the way I wanted to be, not without my body. And the Admiral— The odds were bad, but— David saved his life. He wanted to return the favor and he needed my help to do it. And that— It gave me a reason to stay. Helping David has given all of us a reason to stay. And now— I truly do want him to heal. Not just to save the world, but— Because he doesn't deserve what happened to him. He doesn't. Neither do you. So for my part in— Getting us here, I'm sorry. And I'm trying to fix it."

Amy takes that in. It's a lot. But— It probably doesn't matter how much of it she understands. Ptonomy needed to say it. He's had all that bottled up inside him for a while. She knows what that's like.

She holds out her hand for him. "Thank you," she says. "For trusting me with that."

He takes her hand and smiles, grateful.

§

When they get back to Division 3, Clark is waiting for them.

"Is something wrong?" Ptonomy asks, concerned.

"It's not urgent. The Admiral decided it could wait until you came back. But we do have a new development. Cary's setting up a secondary lab, I'll take you there."

Ptonomy skims through the feeds as they walk and sees Cary and Kerry working with the research team. There's a whiteboard with the words 'Detachment Syndrome' written large and a list beneath, some of it crossed out. The secondary lab is being filled with medical equipment and computers, and the table the research team is around is full of printouts.

He checks on the primary lab. Oliver's meditating, conveying the relay. Divad and Dvd are quite drunk, hanging off of Lenny and moaning plaintively about David. Syd is chewing a Twizzler and her eyes are red from crying. The whiskey bottle is nearly empty and there's used tissues scattered across the table. Getting them drunk certainly wasn't Ptonomy's first choice or even his second, but he has to admit it's working. Lenny made the right call. Again.

It's— A relief to see that— This isn't all on him. He's not doing this alone. It's felt that way sometimes even though he knew it wasn't true. But knowing and believing are two different things. He believes it a little more, seeing all this.

"Ah, there you are," Cary says, waving them over when they reach the lab. "We've had something of a breakthrough."

"Detachment syndrome?" Ptonomy asks.

"Kerry and I were pondering the nature of the soul over some hot chocolate," Cary says, in his usual tangential fashion. "We realized that— Well, we realized quite a lot of things but the important part is— We believe we know what's wrong with Oliver. And because of that, we know what wrong with you. Both of you, and Lenny, and— Anyone whose mind and soul have been detached from their body."

"We're dead," Amy points out. "Can there even be anything else wrong with us?"

"You're not dead, you're— Disembodied," Cary says, pushing up his glasses as he gets into lecture mode. "Traditionally, of course, the loss of the body was the definition of death. But just as our understanding of death evolved with the concept of brain death — the death of the mind while the body survives — now we have situations where the mind survives and the body dies. Body death or— Physical death, as opposed to mental death. If the mind can be moved to an alternate host, it can survive as you have. But disembodiment can happen through other means. Mutant powers often create a— Dynamic relationship between the body and the mind. Minds can separate from their originating bodies via astral, mental, or physical projection. We're still working out the details, but— We know now that astral projection — the disembodiment of the soul — has drastic effects on the mind, both good and bad."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, trying to slow Cary down. "What does that have to do with Oliver?"

"Right," Cary says, focusing. "It wasn't getting lost on the astral plane or— Being cryogenically frozen or even Farouk's possession that made him— Mentally altered. It was the disembodiment itself, chronic use of astral projection. The mind is— It forms as a conjunction of the body and soul. Separate them for too long and— The mind loses coherence. Emotions, memory, the sense of who we are— Drift away. We don't understand the soul, its properties, but— it seems to be—" He pauses, thinking. "Our bodies can retain our emotions and experiences even when we're not aware of them. It seems— The mind is like an impression made on the soul, but that impression isn't permanent. It's—"

"Clay," Ptonomy realizes. Damn Farouk. "Our souls are putty. Our bodies are the newspaper. We pull the putty away and there's a perfect copy, but it doesn't stay."

"Exactly!" Cary says, caught up in his understanding. "Return the soul to the body and the mind regains its coherence. Memories and emotions and our sense of ourselves returns. But the longer or more frequent the disembodiment periods, the more that coherence fades. The healing process between the soul and body is unable to complete. The way Oliver drifts and can't remember, even though his brain is undamaged, that's detachment syndrome."

"And we're disembodied," Ptonomy says, with dawning horror. "We're going to become like Oliver."

"Oh god," Amy gasps. "How long—"

"It's difficult to say," Cary admits. "This is a brand new diagnosis, it's never been studied. We're looking at all of Division 3's records of mutants able to disembody, whether that's through projection or other means. We're looking for patterns. It might affect each person differently depending on their genetics and mental and physical health, just like any disease. But your new bodies— Amy, do you feel better now?"

"Much," Amy admits. "I didn't even realize until— I guess I was— Fading?"

"You're probably the most vulnerable," Cary says. "You don't have any mutant powers which might lend your mind extra resilience. And the start of your current disembodiment preceded Ptonomy's and Lenny's. Thankfully, it seems these aesthetically accurate androids function as prosthetic bodies. It's not ideal, but it gives your souls the sensory input and proprioception they need to sustain your coherence, just as a mirror box can be used to reduce the pain of a phantom limb. And the mainframe acts as a prosthetic brain, so that should protect you from memory issues."

"So we're safe?" Amy asks, hopeful.

"For now, but— Even powerful mutants like Oliver can't sustain long-term disembodiment without displaying symptoms. We have no idea how long you can retain coherence even with your new bodies and the mainframe's support."

"The mainframe isn't just a computer," Ptonomy points out. "We're inside the Admiral's body."

"Which is how your souls were able to be 'uploaded' in the first place," Cary says. "His body is your souls' new host. But simply moving a soul into another body— The mainframe environment actually insulates you from the influence of the Admiral's body on your soul. Otherwise his body would begin to— Gradually overwrite you."

Ptonomy sits down. So does Amy.

"This impacts all of us," Cary continues. "Oliver has an advanced case and we need to track his recovery and search for ways to accelerate it. He has to stay in his body to heal which means we can't let him go searching for Melanie. But that also means Melanie is going to be affected. Just like Amy, she has no mutant powers to protect her mind. Wherever she is, she's likely already begun to drift. But the good news is that as long as we keep her body safe, when she returns to it she'll be able to start healing." He turns to Clark. "I've decided to accept your offer. You can take Melanie after we explain all this to Oliver. I want her body to stay as healthy as possible so she can focus on healing her mind when we get her back."

"I'm glad to hear it," Clark says.

"David is unable to astral project with the crown on," Cary continues, turning back to them, "But I am concerned about the mental projections he, Dvd, and Divad are sustaining. Divad has expressed a similar sentiment that David needs to be in their body to heal and it's possible that he and Dvd are sacrificing their own health on David's behalf. Switching out, taking turns as they're doing now, that will be beneficial. Mental projection likely isn't as dangerous as astral projection as the soul is still inside the body. But it's quite important that we help David so his whole system can share their body together. The whole of David's mind needs to heal. Perhaps they could share while they sleep."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, mentally adjusting his plan for David's recovery yet again. "What about us?"

"You, Amy, and Lenny should spend as much time in your new bodies as possible," Cary says. "Social contact is important. You should participate in activities that stimulate your senses and your proprioception. You'll all need to be tested regularly and so will David and Oliver. We're also setting up a new security procedure to help detect the physical manifestations of mental invasions and infections for all of Division 3, and those of us who are embodied will need to be part of that procedure. Division 3 has proved itself unable to defend against mental attacks but we can at least improve our detection rate."

Ptonomy nods, barely taking all that in. Cary and Clark can handle the security procedures but— "We'll work out a new treatment plan and a schedule for everyone."

"Agreed," Cary says. "And— regarding Lenny, Oliver, and Farouk. The three of them shared a body for a year. Three separate souls, two of them powerful mutants— there must have been consequences. Even though Oliver was the host body, Lenny described being inside of Farouk, like Russian nesting dolls."

"So Farouk was her host?"

"Effectively," Cary says. "We believe that's why David expressed difficulty in differentiating between Lenny's thoughts and Farouk's thoughts. But between her time in her second body and the mainframe's security procedures, that should no longer be a concern."

"Should?"

"Again, all of this is— Uncharted territory. A large problem with all of these mental diseases is that once our minds change, we have no easy way to detect that change because we are our minds. If the Admiral declared Lenny clean, then she probably is. But Farouk spent thirty years inside of David and a year in Oliver. He's back in his own body now and he was obviously powerful enough to retain at least some of his mental coherence. But we don't have a baseline to compare. We don't know much about Farouk's mind at all. David's body is incredibly powerful and so is Oliver's. Farouk's behavior over the decades, his singular obsession with David, his behavior now— It's likely that these are all related to detachment syndrome, either the effects of it or the effort required to retain coherence and survive as a parasitic soul."

Ptonomy leans back. "Did you just diagnose Amahl Farouk?"

Cary shrugs. "I doubt he'll appreciate it. Interestingly, Syd may be immune, or at least strongly resistant. Her powers are directly related to the separation of the soul from the body, and when we did her entry interview at Summerland she expressed that no matter what body she entered, she always retained a strong sense of self. Granted, those were historically for short periods and she didn't switch often, but she has been practicing with Matilda a great deal and she hasn't started— Chasing mice."

"You were totally going to say licking herself," Kerry says, amused.

"It seemed— Impolite," Cary admits. "Regardless. Perhaps she can assist us in better understanding the relationship of the body, mind, and soul, and even with developing treatments for detachment syndrome. Assuming of course that it doesn't put her own health at risk."

"As long as it doesn't get in the way of David's treatment," Ptonomy says. "That has to stay our first priority."

"And it is," Cary agrees. "But David has done a substantial amount of astral and mental projection, both recently and before he lost his memories. And once he has the crown off, he'll want to resume doing those things. If we're going to keep him healthy and stable and help him create a life for himself and his system, we need to understand all of him. Not just his mind but his powers and the way his powers, soul, mind, system, and body all interact."

"That's quite a list."

"It is," Cary admits. "David is, as a person, incredibly complex. His powers, DID, amnesia, trauma and other issues— All of these are substantial on their own, but they must be taken both individually and as a whole."

"Just like David's system," Kerry says, visibly pleased by her contribution.

"On the plus side, this is an opportunity to learn a great deal about all of those things," Cary says. "And understanding detachment syndrome— That has tremendous potential to help many, many people. Division 3 has been so hostile to people like David in part because mutants with his powers have been the most unstable. Detachment syndrome may be the answer to that: a disease that went completely unstudied and untreated because it wasn't safe for its sufferers to ask for help, assuming they could even realize they needed it. Now that we know, we can develop treatments and learn the safety limits for projection. We can teach mutants how to protect their minds and use their powers responsibly. A lot of lives can be saved and made better." He turns to Clark again. "I think it would be good for Division 3 to be the ones to help make that happen, don't you?"

"The Admiral agrees," Clark says, but beneath his reluctance he sounds almost— Glad.

Amy turns to Ptonomy. "I guess the good news is— We're alive."

"We're alive," Ptonomy echoes, equally stunned. They thought they were dead but they're alive, just— Disembodied. The bad news is— They're sick. And if they don't get the treatment they need, they're going to drift away just like Oliver.

Chapter 57: Day 9: Do you have any jazz records? (Oliver, Cary)

Chapter Text

The relay itself takes very little effort to sustain.

Hearing, of course, requires no effort at all: hearing David, the mainframe's telepathic signal, the entire population of Division 3 and the buildings around it. Oliver remembers very little of his past, but— He remembers that the hard part has always been the avoidance of thoughts. There are so many minds thinking inside him all the time; there always have been, even on the astral plane. Cacophonous, like all the music in the world playing at once.

Hearing is passive. Listening, however—

It's primarily about focus. Find a single voice amongst the cacophony and focus on it. Dial out all the other voices — like turning down the volume on a record player — until there's only one voice. Tune the dial until the music comes through on the mind's radio loud and clear, without interference. Find the song and follow the notes.

Oliver has been back for— Hmm, how long is it? Two days? Four? Six? He can't be sure. He's not sure how long he's spent looking for Melanie. He's not sure how long he's spent listening to David. Time is— unreliable. It has been for— An unreliable amount of itself. He was on the astral plane for a very long time, but his body is still young. Nothing was real there. Nothing is real here. Life is unreal. It's a very noisy arrangement of atoms.

David is a very noisy arrangement of atoms. His song is a six-part harmony from a three-piece band.

When he first appeared, David's song was more— Heavy metal, full of thrashing, violent noise, so much that it was surprising that David was able to think at all. But despite the noise, his melody was strikingly clear.

Melody. Melody. Melanie.

Over the roofs the lilt of a sad Melanie, and now rats and lions chase each other round the orchestra, fiddle string to bass gut staccato.

Hm, where was he?

Oh yes. David. His song is quieter now, one player silent, the other two— Inebriated, their thoughts concordant instead of their usual dissonance; bassmen standing looking sad, all bowed together in mournful lament. The funeral march played for the players. Death without death. What is death but— atoms seeking a new arrangement?

Life, death. Irrelevant, all these— Concepts. Identity, morality, love, pain.

Love. Pain.

Love.

David thinks about love constantly. In some form or another, from one player or all three. He's always seeking it, fleeing the pain of it, yearning and seeking it again. He forgets it and remembers it and wishes he could forget and remember. He grieves now, embracing love's pain. Oliver hopes it will help him. He wants to help David. He is helping him. That's why he's staying. That's why he's listening, holding focus, even though his atoms would quite like to seek a new arrangement for themselves.

It's tiring, all this listening. Focusing. Searching. His body has done little but rest but his mind—

No matter. When David rests, Oliver will be free to search again. To tune through the dial for a different mind: singular in an endless number of ways. It's his fault, what's become of her. Oliver remembers very little of his past, but— He remembers— Melanie. As she was and then— As she is. Her new arrangement of atoms, all that change in the blink of an eye.

Did he love her? He must have loved her. He must have— felt things, once upon a time. But it's been a very long time since he felt. He felt something for David, listening to his desperate screams. A pang of— Something. He's felt it before. It makes him want to help. Not out of curiosity, but—

The word eludes him. Elephant? No, that's not it.

He's still trying to think of the word when he hears other minds grow louder in his head. Cary and Kerry. He's not sure if he remembers them from before. He thinks— Possibly. Ptonomy and Amy are with them, but he only knows that because Cary and Kerry are thinking about them being there. They have no song. Neither does Lenny. It's quite strange. He couldn't hear Farouk's song either, but he still knew it was there. This is— Absence. The lack of sound, not the muffling of it. A composition without players, or perhaps they're playing on some other plane. Strings and reeds with vibrations beyond hearing.

He knows other people can't hear minds. He remembers that. David can't hear them because of the crown on his head. It's hard to imagine true silence. It must be intolerable. Even the ice cube was too quiet, muffling the noise beyond, but he had music. He had jazz, loud and cacophonous. The ice cube was tolerable with jazz.

Oliver listens as Cary and Kerry check on David and Syd. There's a mild fuss, David is grieving quite badly and he wants to suffer, but they get him to drink some water and eat. David doesn't want to be away from himself, so they let him lie down on the sofa and put a blanket over him. Syd agrees to stay with him. She wants to suffer, too.

Hm, but Oliver does try not to listen to Syd. He knows she doesn't like that he can hear her. Hearing is unavoidable. If people don't like him hearing their thoughts, they should stop shouting them. There are plenty of thoughts he'd rather not have in his head, but he's not going to walk around with his fingers in his ears. It wouldn't work anyway. He tried, mostly out of curiosity. He's not listening with his ears so they're not the problem.

He doesn't remember what works. Perhaps nothing does. Perhaps all he can do is focus. But David is going to sleep, so Oliver has nothing to focus on, only— Melanie.

"Oliver," Cary says, and Oliver opens his eyes to greet him. "I know we agreed that you could leave to find Melanie when David doesn't need you, but— There's been a development. About your own health. We're— Very concerned about your condition."

"I know," Oliver says, because obviously he does. He's heard Cary worrying about him quite a lot. But the particular arrangement of his atoms is hardly a concern. "But I really should be going."

"To look for Melanie," Cary says, answering himself. He pulls over a chair and sits down. "This is about Melanie, too. Did you— Hear any of what I discussed with Ptonomy?"

"I was listening to David," Oliver says. He can only listen to so much at once, and David is a lot to listen to all on his own.

"Well," Cary says, and thinks, 'How can I tell him? What if he gets upset? We don't have any way to keep him here. I don't want to make him wear a crown, god, he's already been through so much.'

"Tell me what?" Oliver prompts, for both their sake's.

"Oliver, you're sick," Cary says, forcing the words out. "And— The more you search for Melanie, the sicker you're going to get. That means— You have to stop looking for her because— If you keep trying, we're going to lose both of you."

Oliver frowns. "I have to find her."

"Of course you do," Cary says, earnestly. "We all want to find her. But— You're in no condition to search the whole astral plane on your own, when you're already sick. If you go back there, you're going to forget— Even the little you've been able to remember. If you look for Melanie, you will forget Melanie, and then— You'll forget that you were supposed to find her and you'll forget that you were supposed to come back. That's how we lost you before and please, Oliver, we don't want to lose you again."

That does sound— Familiar. "I forgot. Yes, I did forget." He did forget who Melanie was. Otherwise he couldn't have remembered.

"You don't want to forget her again, do you?" Cary asks. "She's your wife, the love of your life. You want to remember her. What you had— Who you were together. You want to remember all of that. But— If you leave your body, your mind will forget. Leaving your body is what's making you sick. It's very, very important that you stay in your body."

Oliver turns and looks at Melanie's body. It's empty. It shouldn't be empty. Cary sees him looking and feels terrible.

"I'm sorry," Cary says. "When we lost you the first time, Melanie and I— We had no way to get you back. So we froze you. We kept your body safe and healthy so when you came back, no matter how long it took, it would be waiting for you. Melanie didn't want your body to— Atrophy, for it to— She saved the only part of you she could. Now we have to do the same for her. We have to save Melanie's body so when she comes back, it will be waiting for her, whole and healthy."

Oliver feels— A pang of something. A feeling. He's not sure what. He ponders it. His body feels quite distant and so do the emotions in it. But— It's familiar, quite familiar.

Oh, it's grief.

He knows the word for that. There's been a lot of people grieving in his head. David and Syd are grieving. Cary is grieving, too, and Kerry. Sadness mixed with love and the pain of loss. He doesn't particularly want to feel that. It seems quite unpleasant. But— He appears to be feeling it anyway.

"I have to stay, so— I won't forget her," Oliver says, trying to figure out if he has any other pangs. "Because leaving my body will make me forget."

"Yes, exactly," Cary says. "When you're feeling better, when David's feeling better, you can work together to find her. We'll have a real plan and Division 3 will help us find her. You're in no condition to find her right now, but you will be when you're better."

"You're lying," Oliver points out, neutrally. "You're afraid I'll never get better. You're afraid David will never get better. You don't know how to find Melanie."

"I am afraid," Cary admits. "You're both very sick. But even if I'm afraid— David is getting better, and— You'll get better, too. I do believe that, truly. And when you're both better we'll figure out how to find her. And before you hear it from my thoughts first— Melanie is sick, too. Wherever she is, being outside of her body is making her sick just like it made you sick. And the longer it takes for her to come back, the sicker she'll be. But the best way to get her back, the fastest way, is for you and David to focus on your recovery. If you put everything you have into getting healthy, then you'll be strong enough to save her. And then she'll be back in her body and that will help her heal, just like it will help you heal."

Oliver considers this. "That is sensible," he agrees. Grief is unpleasant, but— Forgetting is also unpleasant. And if he can't remember who Melanie is, he won't be able to recognize her when he finds her. It's a perplexing conundrum.

"Then you'll stay?" Cary asks, hopeful. "You'll let us help you get better?"

"If I must," Oliver agrees. He doesn't feel much one way or the other about anything, beyond— Needing to find Melanie. But it seems going to find her will only guarantee her loss. He's at an impasse. So— "What do I need to do?"

"Just stay," Cary says, relieved. "Stay in your body and be with us. Talk to us. Tell me how you're feeling. How are you feeling?"

"All right, I suppose."

"Not— Angry, or sad, or— Anything?" Cary asks, concerned.

"I don't much see the point. It's all— Irrelevant."

"You're very detached," Cary says. He takes Oliver's hand. "That's why we're calling it detachment syndrome. Because you've become— Deeply detached from yourself on all levels." He gives a sad smile. "You would have loved this, you know? The old you. You would have loved being the one to figure this out. A whole new disease and so much therapeutic potential. So much to learn and teach to help others. You were so passionate, Oliver. You were full of love and caring for the whole world. You had such— Wonderful dreams. Do you have dreams anymore?"

"I don't know," Oliver admits. "I haven't slept."

"You haven't slept? How long has it been since you slept?"

"I don't know," Oliver says. He tries to remember. "How long did you say I was in the ice cube?"

"Twenty-one years."

"That, then," Oliver says. "Oh, twenty-two. It has been another year, hasn't it?"

Cary is horrified. "That's impossible. You must have slept. You've been sleeping here."

"My body sleeps," Oliver says. "I don't. It's quite boring, waiting through all that. So I leave."

'Dear god,' Cary thinks. 'It's even worse than we thought. Thank god for the Admiral, if he hadn't sent Clark—' "Well— We have to try to help you sleep with your body. It's very important for your mind to sleep with your body so you can heal. It might be difficult at first, but— Will you try?"

"I can't make any promises," Oliver says. "I don't think I remember how to do it."

"It's not usually something you have to remember how to do," Cary says. "It's just something that happens. It's— A biochemical process, a neurological one, physical. But your soul—" He sighs. "This is going to take some research. But please promise me you'll stay in your body even when it sleeps. Please? If you leave, you'll forget Melanie. You don't want to forget Melanie."

"If I must," Oliver sighs. "Perhaps—"

"Yes?"

"It might not be so bad if I have some music to listen to. Do you have any jazz records?"

§

They didn't bring Oliver's music collection with them from Summerland. It's in storage and they'll get it out, but in the meantime, Cary takes Oliver's list of requests and goes to find Clark.

He doesn't have to. He could have had Ptonomy pass the request through the mainframe. He could have continued to stew in his anger about the past and blame Clark because Clark is one of the few safe targets he has for Division 3's horrific crimes.

But the fact is— Cary is part of Division 3 himself. He has been for a year. He signed the employment contract and he gets Division 3's checks deposited in his bank account every two weeks. This whole past year— He's been detached himself, dissociating from the reality of his situation, trying not to think about the organization he found himself joining against his better judgement, for the sake of other people's lives.

But he did join Division 3. He joined the organization that killed a lot of people he cared about because he had a miraculous opportunity to make it something other than a ruthless machine for destroying lives. And he went through the motions but the reality he has to face is that he's squandered that opportunity. Instead of embracing the work like Melanie and Syd and even Ptonomy, he hid himself in his lab and focused on Oliver and David without considering the bigger picture at all.

And then when they got David and Oliver back, he hid from them. He didn't want to face David's madness and he was glad for the excuse of the relay so he didn't have to face what Oliver has become. And dear god, what he's become is— Beyond heartbreaking. As bad as David was on that terrible day, so lost to himself that he begged for death. Oliver isn't begging for death, but that might only be because he's lost too much of himself to care.

Clark tried to make it easy for him. He said that David is loud and Oliver is quiet, so of course it was easy to overlook Oliver. But Cary absolutely overlooked David. He had no idea what was happening in his own lab, that David was recovering traumatic memories and astral projecting with no real supervision or guidance. He saw David change Syd's mind but he didn't look at what happened before that.

Dear god. When they came back, they both seemed—

But Cary should have known. He should have seen it. When Oliver rescued him from the fantasy Clockworks, when he didn't recognize anyone, when he couldn't remember words or even himself— But when he came back he took right to the work, he was capable, he was calm, even if he didn't remember them. And then he was gone and— Cary was just relieved to get him back again. Oliver was awake and alive and that was all that mattered. If he was quiet, if his mind drifted, well he'd just been through a traumatic year on top of being stuck in an ice cube for twenty-one years. Who would blame him for being quiet, for needing to rest?

But Oliver hasn't slept in twenty-two years.

The diagnosis of detachment syndrome didn't exist before today but the symptoms did. And Cary's job is to look for symptoms, to recognize them and figure out how to treat them. He learned how to do that with Oliver and Melanie. And now he's let both of them slip away because he was too busy hiding from reality to recognize their symptoms for what they were and give them the help they deserved from the start.

Cary's always considered himself to be a physical coward. But he didn't realize he was an emotional coward, too. He thought he was the responsible one between himself and Kerry. But she stepped up with David first and she's the one who's been pushing both of them to accept their new arrangement. Cary still wants to go back to being the one on the outside. He's barely gone into Kerry at all and not just for her sake. If she wasn't so used to not having anyone inside her, she would know how much that should hurt, how incomplete it should make her feel to not have her other half trust her to carry him.

Maybe Kerry was right. Maybe they're only sharing one soul and only the one on the outside gets it. Because right now Cary feels absolutely soulless.

The door to Clark's office is ajar. Cary raises his hand to knock, then pauses, listening.

"—yeah, I know," Clark says. He's on the phone, talking to someone. He pauses, listening. "No, I don't want you anywhere near this. One of us has to stay alive, right?" Another pause. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't joke." A long pause. "What did his teacher say?" A sigh. "You know how this works. If I could leave, I would. God knows how bad this situation would get if I left." A pause. "I have to go. I love you." The sound of a phone being put back in its cradle. "You can come in now."

Cary pushes the door the rest of the way open. Clark gives him a placid look.

"Um," Cary begins, awkward. He steps forward and puts the list of music on Clark's desk. "Oliver requested these. If you can get them for tonight. He needs them for his sleep therapy."

"Sonny Simmons?" Clark reads, picking a name from the list. "Very lulling. I'll have it delivered to the lab." He reaches for the phone, then stops. "Was there something else?"

"Yes." Cary sits down. He probably should have asked first but— "I wanted to apologize to you. For my— Hostility."

Clark leans back, obviously not expecting this. "Apology accepted. May I ask why?"

"You were right about Oliver," Cary admits. "And Melanie and David and— I may take great issue with some of your methods, but— Your instincts, the Admiral's instincts have been correct. Their situations should never have become— If I'd done my job, you wouldn't have had to do yours."

Clark considers before replying. "You're right. You didn't do your job. But you're doing it now and we hope you'll keep doing it, however long we have you."

"At this point?" Cary sighs. "I have no idea. Quite honestly, I was expecting all of this to end as soon as we saved David and Oliver and stopped Farouk. Obviously things haven't worked out like anyone expected."

"Obviously. So now?"

Cary considers the question. "Detachment syndrome— I could have found it without Division 3's resources, but with them I can do so much more. This is— It's a tremendous opportunity to make the world better. That's what Summerland was about. That's why Melanie convinced me to work here. To save David and Oliver, yes, but— It was supposed to be more than that and— That dream wasn't just hers and Oliver's. It's my dream. And if this place has the resources to make it happen— Then I'll stay."

Clark allows himself a tiny smile, one corner of his mouth tugging upward. "I'm glad to hear that. But this isn't just about you."

"No," Cary agrees. "But— Perhaps this isn't a binary choice, staying or leaving. The Divisions were created to study and defend against what people saw as the mutant threat. Melanie and Syd convinced the division leaders that the existence of mutants doesn't make us a threat, but— As you've admitted, the mindset of an organization like this is slow to change. David gave the Divisions a push, Melanie and Syd did, and now— It's my turn."

"I'm listening," Clark says, and he is.

"I haven't entirely thought this through," Cary cautions. "But— For a first draft— Division 1 is command, Division 2 is pure research, and Division 3 is a militarized engagement force. I propose Division 4. Integrated with the other divisions, but— A therapeutic organization directly facing the mutant and mental illness communities."

Clark's brow furrows. "Mutant and mental illness? Or mutant mental illness?"

"Both," Cary says. "Mutants who need help with their powers or minds or both. And humans who need help with their minds. Summerland— We only had the resources to help a few and so we focused on those who needed help most. But the Divisions are an international organization with tremendous resources. Mental illness is a global problem affecting every country, every person, no matter what their genetics are. Quite frankly, it's hard to be a mutant without having some kind of mental illness, because it's hard to be a human without having some kind of mental illness, whether we acknowledge it or not. Melanie isn't a mutant, Lenny and Amy aren't mutants, but we're not going to abandon them because of that, any more than it's right for people to be abandoned because they're mutants. What this is about is— The people who feel like they'll never be normal, that they'll never belong. Whatever the reason. If they want to get better, whatever that means, they can't do that alone. They need help and the Divisions have the resources to provide that help. So we should."

"You don't think small," Clark says. "Melanie wanted the Divisions to leave mutants alone."

"If we've learned anything from all of this, it's that leaving people to suffer alone doesn't help them," Cary returns. "Ignoring their pain doesn't help them. Obviously we need to avoid making things worse, and the Divisions haven't exactly been known for their deft touch, but— That's why it should be a new Division. We should keep pushing to change the other Divisions but— Someone needs to be the example so everyone else can see what's possible. An international coalition of humans and mutants working together to make the world better for everyone. That's what's possible."

"Interesting," Clark says, considering it. "And who would run it?"

"Our team," Cary says. "I know right now we're— Quite a shambles. But everyone in that lab is there because they believe in the work. If we can survive this, we can take the lessons we're learning now and apply them to the world. And— I'd like you to be a part of it. You are a part of it, even if— You have very good reasons to keep your distance."

"I do," Clark says, meaningfully. "However— If we survive this and the world doesn't end— It's not a terrible idea. I'm not personally comfortable with it, but maybe that's exactly why it needs to happen. I expect you'll be busy for a while, but— Write up a proposal. I'll look at it. If we're not all dead in a week, who knows? David has been giving the Divisions a hell of a push. Maybe you can finish the job."

"The job's never finished," Cary admits. "That's why we have to keep pushing."

Clark gives him a very considering look. "You know, there's a reason doctors avoid treating their own families. It's hard to be objective. Do your job, but don't torture yourself for missing what you didn't want to see."

"You saw it," Cary points out.

"That's my job," Clark replies. "It's easy to be objective about people who aren't your friends."

Clark meets his eyes. Cary understands.

"Then as distant coworkers," Cary says, "If we can keep the world from ending, I'd like us to work together to make it less likely to almost end again." He reaches out his hand.

Clark shakes it. "As distant coworkers, I look forward to it."

Chapter 58: Interlude I/Day 10: Whatever's happening, it can't be real. (Past David, Ptonomy)

Notes:

This chapter contains a suicide attempt.

Chapter Text

David is having a nightmare.

It must be a nightmare because he can't find Divad or Dvd anywhere. He's looked for them, called for them, even tried to reach their bedroom even though he's never been able to reach their bedroom. The monster won't let him.

The bedroom is gone.

Whatever's happening, it can't be real, because he doesn't feel the monster either.

It could be hiding. It must be hiding. It's always been there even if he couldn't— Even when it wasn't there, he knew it was there. Like he knew Divad and Dvd were there. But— He's alone. In himself. That's— Impossible. It can't be happening. It has to be a nightmare. He has a lot of nightmares. That's really all he ever has. He doesn't have good dreams, the monster won't let him have anything good. If he has a good dream the monster always finds a way to make it bad.

He's not sure where he is. That happens a lot these days. He's stopped— Keeping track. Divad and Dvd are taking care of things for him, taking care of their body. They know what's best for it. They know what's best for him. He can't— Decide things, anymore. He can't make the right choices. He ruins everything so— It's better that he doesn't— Do things. Exist beyond— Whatever he can do to be useful for their system. He stays with them so he can help them, tell them what people are thinking so they can make it through their classes and survive— The world. If they didn't have their powers, each other, they'd never survive the world. It's all so— Beyond him. Impossible. He can't— be anymore, he can't be the part of him that's in the world. It's done, it's over, no hope of return.

But he's alone in their body. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know what's happening. He's afraid and alone and— This isn't real. It can't be real.

He curls up into a tight ball, his panic rising, taking him over. Maybe if he just goes away for a while, he'll wake up and everything will be okay. Divad and Dvd will be back and he can hide again. If he goes away everything will be okay, or at least— Survivable. So he goes away.

§

When he comes back, he still doesn't know where he is. He's still alone. Nothing is okay, but— If he's the only one in their body, he has to take care of it until Divad and Dvd come back. They'll come back. They have to come back. They're part of him and he's part of them. He can keep going for them. That's the only way he's made it this far.

He can listen, so he listens. He doesn't hear anyone else: no thoughts, no voices. That's impossible, too. There are always voices in his head. Even if he's deep in the wilderness, he hears people thinking. Hikers and homeless people and park rangers and hunters. If he listens harder, he can hear thoughts from miles and miles and miles away, from little towns and even the cities beyond.

He listens now, but all he hears is a quiet room.

He looks around. It's some kind of lab. There's— a seating area and a table and a bunch of beds and some computers. It looks like a room designed for a lot of people, but he's alone. There's a window so he gets up off the floor and looks outside.

He's in a city. There's buildings, cars parked on the street. But— There's no people. It's empty. There's no one walking on the sidewalks, no one driving on the streets, no one working in the offices. It's daytime, morning, the world should be full of people doing people things but—

There's nothing. No one. The world is— Empty. Like him.

This can't be real. It has to be a nightmare. He just has to go away again and he'll wake up and everyone will be back. He lies down on the sofa and curls up until he goes away.

§

When he comes back, he smells food. Waffles. There's a blanket over him. Someone was here. There's someone else— Alive. He strains to listen, but— He doesn't hear anything.

Maybe the monster finally figured out how to break what was left of him. Maybe he can't hear anyone because he can't listen anymore. Of course. Of course that's what happened. He's truly useless now. That was— Listening was the only thing he was still good for, and the monster took it away.

He doesn't deserve waffles. He throws the blanket away and curls up, miserable.

Time passes. The smell of the waffles fades. Their body is tired and hungry, but he doesn't deserve food or rest. Maybe Divad and Dvd didn't get taken away. Maybe they left. They promised they'd never leave him, but— Their bedroom is gone. They're gone. Maybe they're gone because they know he's useless. Dead weight. He's been dead weight for years. A broken plate they're too sentimental about to throw away, even though it can't do anything for anyone. They can't eat off it and it's not even pretty, and if they hold it, the sharp edges will cut their hands. That's all David is now, an ugly, stupid burden that hurts the people he loves.

If they're gone, if they're never coming back—

He should kill himself.

It's obvious. It's obvious that he should kill himself. If the only person left in their body is him— There's no reason to take care of it, protect it, give it food. There's no reason to make the effort to keep it alive. If he's the only thing that exists in this body, in the whole world, there's no point to making it continue. There's no point to making all this pain and suffering and endless torturous agony persist. He tried going away and it didn't help, so— He has to make everything go away. That will help, it has to. It will make the pain stop.

He gets up. He goes over to the table. He picks up the plate of waffles and smashes it against the table. He picks up a big, sharp shard and takes it with him back to the sofa.

It's going to hurt, slicing their arms open, bleeding out. But pain doesn't matter, he's used to pain, his whole life is pain.

He listens again. He tries to find Divad and Dvd one more time, but there's nothing. He's empty. They were the only real parts of him left and they're gone so their body is empty. There's no one in it, no one worth saving, so— He should throw it away. Just— Throw it away.

He makes the first cut, long and deep and god, it hurts. He screams and cries but he keeps cutting. He starts on the other arm, but their hand is slippery and weak and it's harder, but— It's working. There's so much blood pouring out of them. He feels faint. Faint is good. Numb is better. He drops the shard and lies down, feeling their body weaken. Their heart slows, struggling. He closes their eyes, grateful for the darkness pulling him down.

§

Divad and Dvd wake screaming.

It wasn't real. It was a nightmare, just a nightmare. God, it's been so long since— They shouldn't have gotten drunk, they let down their guard and now—

"David," Dvd gasps, raising their head to look.

David is just how they left him, curled up insensate on the loveseat. Divad never thought he'd be relieved to see David this way, but— After the awful thing Farouk just made them see—

"David?" Syd calls, sleepily. She picks her head up from the arm of the other loveseat. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Divad says.

Dvd lurches out of their body to sit next to David. Dvd curls up around David and holds him tightly, eyes squeezed shut.

Divad hates the shit beetle so much, he wants to be the one to torture him now. It felt so terribly real.

No, calm, stay calm. It wasn't real, that never happened. David's alive, he's— Not great, but he's alive and their body is— Also not great, but their wrists are whole and unmarred. Divad rubs them anyway, chasing away the imagined sensation.

"You need to wake up," Dvd says, tightly. "Please wake up."

"That's never worked before," Divad sighs, though he wishes it had. He wishes a lot of things had ever worked.

"Shut up," Dvd bites out. He buries his face against David's shoulder. He's not crying but it's obviously taking everything he has to hold back.

Divad feels the same— Or he would if he didn't have the ability to shut himself off. Right now he has no doubts about using that ability to the fullest. The shit beetle took advantage of their drunken state to send them a hell of a nightmare. Divad will never sleep again if that's what it takes to protect them from ever having another.

"What's going on?" Cary's up now. "Ah, may I ask who—"

"Divad," Divad tells him. "Dvd's sitting with David now. We had a— A bad dream but we're fine now."

"Speak for yourself," Dvd grumbles. "Oh wait, you are."

Divad sighs. Dvd's never going to forgive him for college. Especially not after they just saw David as he was right before they lost him. They saw him in their body as it was then: younger, healthier, their hair longer. They looked so young and David was so—

David. Oh god, David. It hurt so much to see him again, especially as some— Twisted creation of Farouk's. That wasn't real, it was just an illusion. David could never be alone. Even when he couldn't hear them, they were with him, protecting him. They would never leave him alone to— Never.

Never.

If Farouk thought he could— Push them apart with this because they're grieving, he was wrong. That wasn't David. That version of David is gone, he's dead, he's never coming back. This is David, right here in front of them. Dvd is holding David. This David is real, not— This is what's real.

"We have to try again," Divad tells Dvd. "The therapy. We have to try it again. David needs us."

Dvd doesn't reply, but Divad knows him. Dvd's no is always loud. Saying nothing is basically his way of saying yes.

The lab door opens. "Is everyone okay?" Ptonomy asks, worried. Lenny and Amy follow him inside.

"We're fine," Divad tells them. "We just had a bad dream."

"That didn't sound like 'just a bad dream,'" Cary says.

"Tell them to fuck off," Dvd says, angry and wounded.

"It's private," Divad says, but with the same meaning. He might be calm but that was—

Great, and now Kerry's awake. The only one asleep is Oliver and he's not actually asleep. No one could sleep listening to the absolute racket seeping out of his headphones.

Ptonomy sits next to Syd. "Divad, you know that nothing about this situation can be private. Especially if it makes you and Dvd wake up screaming like that. You just said you wanted to keep talking, to keep trying to heal your system. So talk to us."

Divad looks at them all gathered around looking concerned. Right now all that's doing is making him feel cornered. But he know Ptonomy won't let this go. "Fine. But just you." He points at Ptonomy.

Ptonomy agrees and everyone else steps away. They're still in the lab and they're still going to hear everything, but— It's enough. It's— Not entirely awful that they all care. It's just too much to deal with, especially right now.

Divad looks at David. He really wishes David would wake up.

"You had a nightmare," Ptonomy prompts. "About David?"

Divad gives a tight nod. This whole— Therapy thing. Even when he covered for David he hated it. All those people with their certificates and degrees, they never understood anything about their system or what they were going through. They never listened even when they did try to tell them the truth. They didn't want to believe anything that came out of their mouth, not when it went against their precious diagnosis. Maybe if they'd— No, they tried— Nothing worked so—

"Divad?" Ptonomy prompts again.

"Yes, it was about David," Divad says in a rush, because that's the only way to get the words out. "He was— Here, but— Everyone was gone. He was— Absolutely alone. And he— He was like he was. Before. And we weren't there, so he—" He stops, unable to continue. It's too much to even say. He reflexively covers one wrist, then forces his hand away.

Ptonomy takes all that in. "David was in a very bad state before Farouk took his memories. You had to do everything for him. To keep him alive."

Divad nods.

"So if you weren't there, if he was alone— There wasn't anyone to keep him alive."

Divad nods again.

"That must have been— Enough to make anyone wake up screaming," Ptonomy says, gently.

Divad doesn't respond to that. He doesn't have to and— He's glad. He's glad that Ptonomy understands them enough that they don't have to spell it out, they don't have to rehash their pain over and over. Ptonomy isn't like all the other doctors and therapists. Divad knew that, he saw it with David, but—

"Okay," Ptonomy says, like that's the end of it. He doesn't need to hear the rest. Divad barely said anything but it was enough. He never thought he'd be grateful for telepathic therapy but he is. Saying these things aloud is— Even when he's numb, it's too much.

But that's not the end of it, not quite.

"And Farouk sent you the nightmare," Ptonomy says, like it's a fact.

Divad stills. Did he— He doesn't think the relay is on now and he doesn't think he thought about the nightmares when anyone could hear it. But he could have slipped up before, when he didn't know they were listening. He can't look back at their recordings of him to know.

"When David was in the cell, when I first came to see him, Farouk visited him in a dream," Ptonomy explains. "But you've been managing David's sleep and David hasn't had any dreams, much less nightmares. If Farouk's been trying to get into your system's body all this time, I can't imagine he wouldn't be trying to get in through David's dreams, not when he already has a way."

"He's been trying," Divad admits. There's no point in lying about it now.

"What?" Dvd says, outraged.

"You didn't tell me about him trying to get into our body," Divad shoots back. He turns back to Ptonomy. "It's very simple. People dream all the time, but they can't remember their dreams unless they wake up while they're dreaming. I keep David from waking up at the wrong time. So it doesn't matter what Farouk tells him or sends him, David won't ever remember any of it which means he's safe."

"That's simple?" Ptonomy asks, eyebrows raised.

"It is for me," Divad says, allowing himself his pride. He worked hard figuring out how to stop the nightmares. He can't actually stop them from happening, but stopping the memory of them is just as effective.

"You can't shield your body's mind, somehow?" Ptonomy asks, gesturing at his own head. "Like Dvd shields David's thoughts. Could you do it with the crown off?"

"The crown has nothing to do with it," Divad says, tersely. "Dreams aren't— They're not something you can shield."

"Why not?"

Divad huffs. Ptonomy might understand their system better than anyone ever has, but he still doesn't understand anything else. "Because of the vast subconscious. The astral plane. When we dream, we're— Connected. You can't break that connection, and even if you could, not dreaming makes people sick."

"Cary," Ptonomy calls. "I'm sorry, but Cary needs to be part of this conversation."

"I heard," Cary says, sitting down next to Ptonomy. "This is fascinating. Our minds are all connected to the astral plane?"

"Of course," Divad says. Honestly, they're supposed to be the experts in mental health and mutants, but they don't know this? "How could Melanie be lost among seven billion minds if we're not all connected to the astral plane?"

"The vast subconscious," Cary echoes, like he's only now processing what those words actually mean. "All our minds are connected by the astral plane. Not just when we dream, but all the time?" He leans back, looking like someone just hit him with a bat. "Oliver mentioned it, but— I didn't understand the ramifications, not back then. That must be— How telepathy works."

Now it's Divad's turn to be confused. "What?"

"Mind readers hear thoughts," Cary says, caught up. "But Oliver always described it as— Thoughts inside his head. Proximity is a factor, but we could never explain how the mental signals were produced or recieved. They must propagate over the astral plane, via whatever natural connection joins every one of our minds to the vast subconscious. Telepaths don't read minds, not directly. They're somehow able to— Receive the signals our minds send into the astral plane. That's why there's no way to shield our minds externally. It's not an external phenomena."

"Wait a minute," Dvd says. "Is he saying that I can shield David's dreams?"

Divad relays that to Cary, curious for the answer himself.

Cary thinks. "Shielding is— An internal phenomena. But if dreaming extends some part of us out into the astral plane— To use Kerry's metaphor, dreaming bypasses your mental firewall. And as Divad pointed out, dreaming is essential to our well-being. We all need to dream. So does Oliver. But Oliver hasn't dreamed in twenty-two years."

Divad gapes. "That's impossible. I know he's not all there but that is definitely not possible."

"It is with detachment syndrome," Cary says. "Ah, you were— Otherwise occupied. Kerry, could you grab a flyer?" She brings one over. "We had these made up today. It's a bit preliminary but all of this applies to the three of you. We were going to talk about it with you in the morning— Though technically it is morning now."

Divad reads. Dvd comes over and reads over his shoulder.

"The hell?" Dvd says, alarmed. "Projection makes us sick?"

"Chronic astral projection is what made Oliver 'not all there,'" Cary explains. "For the sake of your system's healing, you need to share your body as much as possible, ideally simultaneously."

"Ha!" Dvd cries, exultant. "I told you we were supposed to share!"

"David can't share with us," Divad points out.

"That's why his possession trauma just became a priority," Ptonomy says. "In the meantime, the best option is for you to share your body for sleep."

"But given how Divad has been protecting David's dreams, that does pose a problem." Cary looks thoughtful again. "You said that the trick is to keep David asleep until he's not actively dreaming? So it's a matter of avoiding the interruption of REM?"

"Pretty much," Divad says, pleased by the interest. It's been a long time since he had someone to share his ideas with. Knowing their system from the inside made him an ace at biology. They didn't even have to cheat for that. Well, maybe sometimes, just so they wouldn't lose their scholarship. "Actually, we do dream during NREM, but those dreams don't involve the astral plane. They're purely internal. That's how we dream when we're projected."

"Fascinating," Cary says, pushing up his glasses. "Perhaps you can help me with Oliver's situation. Ah— Ptonomy, I'm terribly sorry for taking over your session."

"I'm done for now. You three go ahead," Ptonomy says, and stands up. "Anyone want some coffee?"

§

Ptonomy watches, quite satisfied, as Cary, Divad, and Dvd have an intense discussion about the metaphysics of sleep. He follows some of it, but as useful as the information is, that's not why he's happy right now.

He's happy because Divad and Cary just became friends. And maybe a friendship was started between Cary and Dvd. Without the relay it's hard to be sure, but just the fact that Dvd is engaging in the conversation is a very good sign.

Divad and Dvd can't depend solely on David for their emotional needs anymore, and they shouldn't have had to in the first place. It's been a challenge to work on that with them so isolated and defensive. As frustrating as it is when David goes away, those have also been the best times to give Divad and Dvd a chance to engage beyond him.

Dvd and Divad might not have any interests outside of protecting David, but the fact is that protecting David is a full time job for all of them now so they might as well lean into it. Divad is responding to Cary, bonding over their shared interest in science and how it can be used to keep them safe, and that's pulled Dvd in, too. Patching things up between them and Amy is vital but difficult. And Ptonomy still thinks Kerry and Dvd are a good match. The problem keeps coming back to giving them time to be together. As Clark said, they're balancing a lot of concerns. They have to keep their primary goal in mind.

'You did a good job with that wake,' Ptonomy tells Lenny over their mainframe link. Now that they need to stay in their androids, they've had to fashion an internal communication system so they don't have to disembody to speak privately. Mainframe telepathy, of a sort. 'Thank you.'

'Yeah, I told you,' Lenny replies. She tries not to show that she's pleased, but she is.

It's taken Lenny a while to warm up to them, but the fact is: Lenny knows Farouk and David from the inside. She and David have a bond that's held strong through death and madness. Farouk helped make their bond that strong but that doesn't mean it isn't real. They're still going to have some bumps, but— Lenny earned David's trust in Clockworks and she's earned their trust here. Whatever she's had to do to survive— That's going to help them survive now.

'What do you think about the nightmare?' Ptonomy asks her.

'It's a fucking trap,' Lenny says, plainly. 'The shit beetle has David's memories. There's no way he's not going to find ways to use that. By the way, I am not happy about this dream thing. There's no way it's safe just because David can't remember.'

'Maybe, but Divad's trick seems to be working. I'm more concerned about Cary, Kerry, and Syd — and Oliver if we can actually help him dream. They're vulnerable and if Farouk keeps getting frustrated by Divad and Dvd, he's going to start working on them — assuming he isn't already.'

'And we have to worry about our minds dissolving,' Lenny says, dryly. 'Shit. David better come back soon or I'm gonna make him come back.'

'We have to tell him, but— I don't want to put this on his shoulders,' Ptonomy says. 'He has a lot to deal with already. We have to help him with his possession trauma so he can share his system's body.'

'It's weird, calling it that. It's his body. I should know, I was in it.'

'And he's a system,' Ptonomy replies. 'The more we use language that supports that, the easier it will be for him to accept it, for all of us to accept it.'

'Yeah, yeah,' Lenny grumbles. 'So what do we call them, like, as a whole?'

'We'll work something out,' Ptonomy says. 'We could call them the Hallers, but that includes Amy.'

'The Davids,' Lenny insists. 'I bet they'd like it. They all look like him, right? They're proud of being parts of him. Their names are basically his name.'

'We're trying to get them to accept that they're individuals,' Ptonomy reminds her.

'Yeah, and we're also trying to get David to accept that they're not,' Lenny throws back. 'David and the Davids. That's a good name for a band.'

'David is one of the Davids.'

'Fine. Then Lenny and the Davids. That's even better. You know I'd be the frontwoman.'

Ptonomy chuckles. He's starting to understand why David connected with Lenny in the first place, and how they were able to survive together. 'Dvd got us all saying shit beetle. I wouldn't be surprised if you got us all saying 'the Davids'. But run it by them first. I'm only supporting this if they agree to it.'

'Okay, okay,' Lenny agrees. 'At least we know what the shit beetle wants now. We know why all of this happened.'

Ptonomy has a pretty good picture of all of this himself now, but he wants to hear Lenny's version. 'Let's hear it.'

'So Farouk gets his ass kicked by David's dad, and somehow he finds David. He thinks he's got an easy revenge. But once he's in, he's fucked. Can't get out, can't take over. Baby David's too strong. So Farouk loses his shit and takes his rage out on David. But then Divad and Dvd show up. David's system gets stronger even though David's broken. They've almost got a normal life until Farouk figures out how to mess all that up. He feeds on them until he's really strong, but being a parasitic soul made him think he's— Part of David. The part that's meant to be in charge, like Divad was. He still wants revenge and revenge means ending the world, but— The world ain't real. The only thing that matters is David.'

'I think you're right,' Ptonomy says, impressed. 'Revenge was his goal at the start of all this. He still believes it is, that he wants David so he can use him to end the world. But the truth is that David is his goal, possessing David's body and his powers and most importantly his love. That's why he loathes anyone who David loves and has to hurt them. And all that torture? It's his way to punish David for loving other people, for not being his. To punish other people for loving David. If Farouk had won in the desert, he would probably have gone right back into David's body, even though he'd just done all that work to get his old body back. He would have gone in and taken over.'

'Ugh, he's such a fucking creep,' Lenny says, angrily. 'We're not letting him get back into David.'

'We're not,' Ptonomy agrees, firmly. 'But he's going to keep trying. We thought he wanted David's pain but that pain isn't enough. He wants David's love. He's going to keep watching until he figures out how to get it. And then—'

'And then we're fucked.'

'Maybe,' Ptonomy allows. 'If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.'

'I hate it when you quote things.'

Ptonomy smiles. 'The more we learn about ourselves, the more Farouk learns about us. But he doesn't truly know us. How well do you think he truly knows himself? He thinks he's a god and gods don't get sick. He has his own delusion parasite eating him alive: the delusion that David belongs to him. Being trapped inside of David for thirty years made that delusion grow absolutely monstrous. Being forced out of David made him furious and he's still angry about it. Angry people make mistakes.'

Lenny considers this. 'He must be unbelievably pissed at Divad and Dvd. So the first chance he gets, he hurts them bad.'

'Exactly. But he slipped up. He let us know something important. We suspected he had David's memories but now we know it. We can start planning for what he might do with them.'

'We still don't know for sure.'

'We do,' Ptonomy says. 'Because if he just wanted to hurt them with David's suicide, why make David young? A suicide by David as he is now would have hurt more, they would have blamed themselves for rejecting him. And we know Farouk can make mental constructs of people. He did that with Amy when he made the one that laughed at David. Maybe he can attach memories to them.'

'A mental construct with David's memories? Even creepier. What's he doing with it? Torturing it?'

'Can a mental construct be self-aware?'

'Hey, I've got a soul so don't ask me,' Lenny says, defensive. 'I'm mainframe-certified real. Maybe he's, like— Being David, somehow. Ugh. God, I wanna stab him in the face.'

'Get in line,' Ptonomy says. 'We'll talk to the Admiral and have him run the numbers. See what the most likely possibilities are, start contingency planning. Farouk likes playing close to his chest, but he can't play the game if he doesn't show some cards.'

'You and your metaphors,' Lenny grumbles.

'Everyone loves my metaphors.'

Lenny rolls her eyes, reaches over and slaps him on the arm.

'Thanks for the physical stimulation,' Ptonomy grins.

Chapter 59: Interlude I: Call me Amahl, David. (Past David)

Chapter Text

David wakes up.

He's weak, but— He's alive. Somehow. He's not on the sofa anymore, he's on one of the beds. He looks at their arms. They're wrapped in bandages. He feels the hurt of the healing cuts. He must have been out for a while. Their body is dressed in a hospital gown.

Someone saved him. He doesn't understand why or who, but— Someone won't let him die. Whoever it was— It must be the same person who brought him waffles.

There's an IV in their hand and a monitor. It shows their heartbeat. He wishes it would stop, but— It keeps beating, the line rising and falling and rising.

It's not fair. He lived for Divad and Dvd and they're gone. He's not allowed to die, but— He has nothing to live for. Whoever's keeping him alive, they're just— Torturing him. It's— Monstrous, keeping him alive. He just wants to die.

He cries in frustration and pulls off the bandages and—

David wakes up.

He's weak, but— He's alive. Somehow. He's not on the sofa anymore, he's in a hospital bed. He looks at their arms. They're wrapped in bandages and tied to the bed. He feels the hurt of the healing cuts. He must have been out for a while. Their body is dressed in a hospital gown.

Someone saved him. He doesn't understand why or who, but— Someone won't let him die. Whoever it was— It must be the same person who brought him waffles.

There's an IV in their hand and a monitor. It shows their heartbeat. He wishes it would stop, but— It keeps beating, the line rising and falling and rising.

The door opens. A man walks in. He's— David's never seen him before, he doesn't recognize him at all, but he's wearing a white coat and he has a pen in his breast pocket, so he must be a doctor.

"David," greets the doctor. "I see you're awake. How are you feeling?"

David stares at him. "Am I dead?"

"Of course not, my dear," the doctor says. He sits down in the chair next to the bed. "Do you think you're dead?"

It's a good question. If this is a nightmare— It's a very persistent one. None of this makes any sense. Divad and Dvd— They can't be gone. Unless— What if they didn't leave? What if the monster hid them and the bedroom, and— And— Oh god, what if David selfishly tried to kill himself instead of trying to save them? What if he almost killed them by hurting their body? They must hate him for that. God, he's so useless, he's such complete garbage, he should be the one the monster took away, this is all his fault.

"David," the doctor says, concerned. "Shh, don't cry. It's all right. You're safe here."

"Safe?" David laughs, between sobs. Nowhere is safe. Nothing is safe. He's never ever been safe and he'll never ever be safe, especially not now that he's alone.

"Yes," the doctor says. "This is a safe place for you. David, I took the monster out of you."

David stares at him, his sobs skidding to a halt. No one's ever believed them about the monster. Everyone said they were crazy when they talked about the monster so they gave up trying. They couldn't get the monster out their body, it was impossible.

"You don't believe me?" the doctor asks. "Have a look." He holds up two photos from some kind of brain scan. "That's before, and that's after."

One of the photos has areas marked in red. The other one doesn't.

"See? You're clean, David. The monster is gone."

"No," David says, shaking their head in sheer disbelief. "That's not—"

"I'm sorry I wasn't there when you first woke up," the doctor says, kindly. "I thought you would need time to rest. I didn't realize how much the monster had hurt you, that the first thing you would do was try to hurt yourself. You mustn't hurt yourself, David."

"No," David says again. "This is— It's a trick. It's not real."

"Why wouldn't it be real?"

"Because— Because I looked outside and no one's there!"

The doctor gets up and goes over to the window. "The world is full of people."

"You're lying!" David insists. "I can't hear them!"

"These windows are very thick," the doctor says, giving the glass a tap. "Here, I'll show you. If you promise not to hurt yourself?"

"Fine," David grumbles. This is all a trick and a nightmare and— Something. So whatever. He'll find a way to kill himself later.

He's released from the restraints and the IV and sensors, and the doctor helps him stand. David's wobbly, but he makes his way over to the window.

There's people. Lots of people, all— Doing normal people things. How? "They were gone," David tells him.

"Your mind may be— Unsteady for a while," the doctor explains. "You may see and hear things that aren't real. The monster didn't want to leave you. I'm afraid he did quite a lot of damage before we got him out."

David sits down. The sofa was cleaned while he was unconscious. "Brain damage?"

The doctor nods. "That's why you're here. This is a safe place for you, where you can have the treatment you need to get better. I understand that your previous diagnosis was schizophrenia. I know that's isn't true, David. The voices, the hallucinations, all the strange things you experienced, those were caused by the monster."

David stares. "What?"

The doctor tilts his head. "Do you still hear voices? There may be moments, periods of hallucinations, but they will lessen with time. I promise."

David wants to ask about Divad and Dvd, but— It's not safe to talk about them. It wasn't even safe to talk about the monster. But the doctor knew about the monster and got him out. How— What even happened before all this? The last thing he remembers— What's the last thing he remembers? They were in college, in their dorm room, studying. Divad was studying. David was— watching him study, idly listening in case there was anyone dangerous Dvd needed to know about. There usually wasn't, but Dvd always wanted to be sure.

"How did I get here?" David asks, bewildered. "How did you find me?"

"You had a seizure," the doctor explains. "Quite a terrible one. You were brought to the hospital. I scanned your brain and found the abnormalities, the damage. I had to open up your head to get it out."

David touches their head.

"Don't worry," the doctor says, amused. "It healed while you were in your coma."

"I was in a coma?" David gapes.

"Surely you wouldn't have wished to be awake during all that?" the doctor tuts. "I kept you safe so you wouldn't suffer while your body healed. Then I brought you here to heal your mind."

"Heal my mind?" David echoes.

"You had a monster in your head," the doctor says, sympathetic. "I cannot imagine what you must have endured. So you must tell me, share your feelings and emotions and thoughts with me, so I may treat them."

David recoils. They've endured so many doctors telling them that, and every time they told them the truth— No one ever believed them and so all the truth ever did was make everyone think they were crazy. And then they would be punished with more treatments, more medication they didn't need, that didn't help, that just made them worse. The monster made sure that telling the truth would only ever be another kind of torture.

But the monster is gone.

"Is it really gone?" he asks, afraid to believe it. Afraid— This is all another trick. It has to be another trick. It has to be. His whole life has just been— Trick after trick after trick, manipulation and torture and— It was never going to end, he'd accepted that it was never going to end, that the only thing he was good for was— being the punching bag for a vile sadistic monster hiding so deep inside of them that no one would ever be able to get it out.

Divad wanted to try to get it out. David couldn't hope anymore but Divad could. And now— Divad is gone, and Dvd. How can he ever hope again? He doesn't even remember how.

"It's really gone," the doctor says, showing him the scans again.

David stares at them. Before and after. Red and white. Infected and— Clean.

Clean.

But— He can't hear the doctor's thoughts. He can't hear the people outside. And Dvd and Divad and the bedroom are all still gone. What happened to his powers, to his system? How can he be alone in their head? It's so quiet, he doesn't know what to do with all this quiet. If he fills it with his own thoughts—

He needs Divad. He needs Dvd. Where did they go? What happened to them? They promised they'd never leave him, they wouldn't have just left him. Even if he— Even if he's useless, they wouldn't have left him. Something must have happened to them. The seizure? The surgery? The monster? What if he never gets them back? How's he going to survive? He can't survive on his own, he's— He ruins things when he tries, he makes everything worse. He couldn't even wake up without trying to kill himself after the doctor worked hard to save him.

This is all— Too much for him. It's too much. Being— Saved. Healing. It's too much. Divad should be here, he could do it. He needs Divad. He needs Dvd. They have to come back. If they're trapped inside him, he has to find them so they can come back.

He closes their eyes, concentrates, but— Nothing happens. He can't— He's just— Stuck. Trapped alone in their body, completely alone. He can't be alone, he can't be without them, he's nothing, he's no one, he's—

The doctor takes their hands, holds them. "David," he says, looking into David's eyes. "You were put in my care because I can help you get better. Don't you want to get better? Don't you want to see your family again? Amy? Your father?"

Amy. Dad. It's been years since— Since he even talked to them. Since he did more than watch Divad talk to them. Divad was always better at being David than David was. Amy and Dad are happy when Divad is in charge. They don't— David is too broken to be with them. All he ever does is make them sad and upset. They've probably been sad and upset while he was in a coma but— They won't be happy when they realize that the wrong David came back.

"No," David says, roughly, as tears streak down his cheeks. Whatever happened— Something went wrong. Something went terribly wrong because something took Divad out and left David behind. David's the one who should be gone. He should be gone, he should be gone, he just wants to be gone.

He bursts into sobs. He wants to die, he just wants to die, maybe he can— The stitches— But the doctor is holding their wrists and won't let him.

"Oh, my poor dear boy," the doctor says, and holds David close. "Cry all you want. You've suffered a true ordeal and now you've had a terrible shock. But you're safe now. The monster is gone and I won't let anyone harm you. I won't let you harm yourself again."

David struggles in the doctor's hold but it's too strong. He can't escape. He can never escape. Even if he goes away, he'll still come back to this. There's no one else inside their body to help him. He's terrified and he hurts so much, everything hurts so much.

When he doesn't calm down, he expects the doctor to drug them. That's what doctors do, nurses, hospital attendants, orderlies. They drug them so they don't have to deal with their pain. They tie them to a bed and lock them away, all while thinking about how hopeless and broken and disgusting he is. How tragic it is that he'll never be normal, never be happy, that he's just sick, he's sick, he'll never be anything but sick. They pity him but they know, they know this is all he deserves, that he doesn't deserve anything good, that broken people aren't people anymore, they're just— Inconveniences, burdens, broken toys that can't even be played with. That's all he is and all he'll ever be and he stayed alive for Divad and Dvd but now, now there's no point, there's no point to him, he's too sick to ever get better.

The doctor doesn't let go. He doesn't drug David and walk away, disgusted. He keeps holding him and David— He's weak from— He doesn't have the strength to fight. He just— wears himself out and— And the doctor is still holding him.

David can't hear his thoughts. Surely the doctor is thinking so many awful things about him. Doctors always do. But there's nothing, absolutely nothing and— It's a relief. Not knowing. It's terrifying and unnatural, the silence, but— He's so tired of always hearing the bad things people think about him. So maybe— Maybe it's better this way. He's useless to Divad and Dvd now, but— They're not here. So it doesn't matter if he's useless. Nothing matters.

He's so tired.

"There, there," the doctor soothes, rocking him a little. His voice rumbles against David's chest. "You're all right now. I'm here. Doctor Farouk is here."

David blinks, realizing that he never asked the doctor's name. "Doctor Farouk?" he echoes, slurring.

"Amahl," Doctor Farouk says, a smile in his voice. "Call me Amahl, David."

"Amahl," David echoes.

"Good," Doct— Amahl says, warmly. "That was very good what you just did, letting all of that out. But now you need to rest."

David tenses, thinking about— Waking up alone. But Amahl strokes his back, soothing.

"You need to rest and not worry about anything," Amahl says. "Let me take care of everything. I'll be right here and I won't leave you, I promise. I know it's difficult, you haven't known me very long, but— I've known you for quite some time, David. I've taken care of you, protected you, kept you safe even from yourself. You must try to trust me. Can you try?"

Trust a stranger? David hasn't ever trusted anyone outside of his system or his family. But— They're not here. Dvd and Divad and Amy and Dad, they're not here and David doesn't know what else to do. And— He is a doctor. Not that David's had great success with doctors before, but— This doctor actually helped him. He got the monster out. That's— That's worth a little trust.

"I'll try," he says.

"Excellent," Amahl says. "That's all you have to do." He pulls away, but only to lay David down on the sofa. There's a pillow, somehow, and a blanket that Amahl tucks tight around him.

David is so tired. He just wants to sleep.

"Good," Amahl says. He strokes their hair, lulling him, each stroke pushing him gently down. "Then sleep."

§

David wakes to the smell of food. Not waffles. It's— He doesn't recognize it. It smells— Foreign. Spiced and— Sweet?

He shifts, feeling wrung-out, empty, but— He slept. On the sofa. He opens their eyes, squints. The afternoon sun is coming in through the window, warm and bright. The doctor— Amahl. Amahl is still here. He's sitting on the loveseat, eating— Some kind of stew?

David pushes himself up, pushes off the blanket cocoon. There's another bowl on the table, covered, and a glass of water and a pitcher and a tissue box and— Pills.

"Simple painkillers," Amahl says. "I thought you might have a headache."

"Yeah," David says, voice hoarse from— Incoherently sobbing all over Amahl. Their head is sore. And their arms itch, but he knows that means they're healing. The bandages are fresh; Amahl must have changed them while David was asleep. David's— Glad he didn't have to see that, to see what he'd done. He felt like he had to but—

He takes the pills and washes them down. He takes a tissue and blows their nose. He breathes and tries to center himself. It's hard without— It's hard when it's just him. That's not how they work. But— Divad and Dvd are still gone. They're really gone.

If he thinks about them anymore, he's going to break down again, so he looks for something else to think about. The stew. He doesn't remember the last time they ate. He doesn't remember the last time he ate. He stopped doing that when he let Divad be in charge.

But now it's just him. He has to eat if he's going to keep their body alive. There's probably no point, not if it's just him. He's not— Worth anything to anyone. But— If there's any chance they might come back— He doesn't want to risk them not having a body to come back to. He already made that mistake once, he can't do it to them again. He has to keep going for them, like he always has, even if they're not here.

And he is hungry.

"Um," David says, looking at the covered bowl. Is that for him? It's probably not for him.

Amahl puts down his own bowl and touches the covered one. "Ah, still warm, excellent. I wasn't sure how long you would need to sleep. Here, you must try this. I made it myself. It was my mother's recipe, our family tajine. Comfort food."

David could do with some comfort food right now, even if he's never tried this kind before. He slides over the bowl, their hands shaky, and removes the cover. "It's a stew?" he asks.

Amahl offers him a spoon. David takes it and cautiously prods at the mixture of meat and vegetables and— fruit? He's not used to fruit being in stews.

"Lamb with chickpeas, carrots, and apricots," Amahl explains. "And plenty of ras el hanout." He slaps his stomach. "Warms the belly. Try it, please."

David takes a cautious taste. It's— A lot of flavors all at once, sweet and sour and spicy. It's several thousand miles away from his usual comfort food, syrupy waffles. He regrets not eating the waffles when Amahl left them for him. He regrets—

But Amahl saved their body. He didn't let David— Hurt Divad and Dvd that way. That's good, that he did that. He must very kind, to— To do all this for Divad and Dvd, to make food for them. David should eat it for them, for Amahl.

It's not— Comforting, but— It's warm and— It's probably good for their body. He has to take care of their body until they get back. They'll probably be upset about— Their wrists. But— They have other scars, faded and silvery, in places that were safe to mark. They'll just have to wear long sleeves so no one knows what David did to them. They're used to having to cover for him, for his incessant mistakes. This was just another one of his mistakes. More proof that he shouldn't be in charge, that him being in charge is— Disastrous. That's what he's always done, make things worse, fall for the monster's tricks, let himself be manipulated. He can't make decisions on his own, he can't— He just needs to do what he's told, eat what he's given. It's better that way, it's always better that way.

He manages about half the bowl before he can't force himself to eat any more.

"Sorry," David apologizes, guilty. "I'm just— Not that hungry, I guess."

Amahl's smile seems— Forced, for a moment. But then it eases. "That's quite all right. Did you like it?"

"Sure," David lies. "It's just— Kind of a lot. If I've been, you know, in a coma, I should probably— Eat light, for a while."

"Of course," Amahl says, with understanding. "You're quite right. All that time without eating. The body needs time to adjust to— A return to wholeness."

"Yeah, I guess," David says, though that's a funny way to put it. The last thing he feels is whole. But Amahl doesn't know about Divad and Dvd. He only knows about the monster, and— Maybe that's what he means. But David's never known how to be without the monster, either. He doesn't even know who he is without the three of them. He's just— what's left. The remnants, the scraps. And now he has to somehow— Sew the scraps together. Make a— A whole person out of them? That's— He couldn't ever be a whole person on his own. Even if he heals— He can't survive on his own. There's just no way.

"Amahl," David begins, and then thinks maybe he shouldn't be so familiar with his doctor when he says this. "Doctor Farouk, I— I don't know why you're doing all this, but— You don't have to. I'm not— I'm not worth all this— It must be expensive, me being here, and I can't afford, my family can't—" He swallows. "Maybe it would be best if I just went home. I'm— I'm awake now and okay and— Maybe not great, but— I'll— Survive and—" He swallows. "You've already done so much for me, I can't— The monster's out, like you said, so—"

He'll go home. He'll see Amy and Dad again and— Try to be Divad for them. He'll try to be the David they want him to be. He'll cover until Divad and Dvd get back, just like they always did for him. And if they don't— If they never come back—

If they don't come back, it won't be their body anymore, just his. He won't have to keep it alive. And no one will care if it's just his body, if it dies. It will just be a relief for everyone. Like when Mom died and it was a relief because she was sick for so long. Listening to her struggle to breathe— Amy and Dad thought the same things about her as they do about him, so he already knows they'll be okay with it. That the world will be relieved and lie about how sad it is and then just— Move on, without him dragging them down and holding them back like he always does. The world will finally be free of his sickness, and so will he.

Amahl gives him a considering look. David meets it and then looks away.

"Your treatment is my gift to you," Amahl says, waving off the concern. "You have great value to me, David, but not to yourself. You need a purpose for your recovery. A reason to do the work of living. Let me give you one."

David meets his eyes again, curious as to what he could possibly say.

"I was raised in a faith," Amahl says. "I have since moved beyond that faith, however— To kill yourself was considered the gravest of sins. Slice open your wrists, and you will slice open your wrists forever in the fires of hell."

David reflexively pulls their bandaged wrists against their body.

"But such thinking is— Old-fashioned, in this modern age," Amahl continues. "I may not be young, but I have no interest in old-fashioned thinking. I have always embraced the challenges of the mind and that is how I have thrived." He smiles, even and broad. "I have been inside you, David, inside your body. I reached into your essence and removed the source of your pain. But we are more than our bodies, we are our minds. And while I have cured your body, your mind remains very, very sick. And that is why I need you, David. You could say that— It is my dream to cure you, and by curing you, to cure the world."

That's— A lot for David to take in. "Cure the world?" he asks, confused.

"You are the key, David," Amahl explains. "The key to winning the war of the mind. To ending the pain of millions, even billions of people. I have spent my life listening to the world, and what do I hear? They beg for relief, for release. So much suffering, and for what? Together we can end their pain."

David tries to understand that. "You want— A cure for mental illness?"

"For madness," Amahl says. "Do you know the history of madness, David? It was once thought that all madness was caused by the possession of evil spirits, or perhaps the punishment of gods." He smiles, amused. "Then came the madhouse. The lunatics were gathered together and experimented upon. The doctors shocked them, drowned them, drugged them. Tortured them quite cruelly. But they were mad, and of course lunatics are not human, so—" He shrugs. "You know this yourself."

David nods. He knows it painfully well.

"The madhouses were barbaric," Amahl continues. "The doctors began to feel guilty. So they made new madhouses, polite ones with polite forms of the same tortures, and polite forms of the same madness. Hysteria. Mania. Schizophrenia. They divided these into smaller, even more polite forms, and so on and so forth. And so we reach the modern world, where there are thousands of tiny madnesses, and all the tortures of the madhouse are condensed into little pills that the patient delivers upon themself."

David thinks of the countless pills that they were forced to take. Every single one was all kinds of torture: multiple humiliations, physical and mental suffering, loss of self-control. And if they resisted them, that only made everything worse. If they didn't take the medication themselves, it was forced on them. If they fought back, they were dangerous. If they used their powers—

But he knows that— Even if it was awful, even if it was the monster making it happen— Even if the medication was wrong— It happened because he deserved it. They knew what he was, deep down; he heard them thinking it. They knew he was broken and he knew it, too. Even Divad and Dvd knew it. It wasn't fair that Divad and Dvd had to suffer because of him. They weren't sick like he was. He tried to make them stay in the bedroom so they wouldn't have to endure it. He tried to stay in charge so they wouldn't be tortured. But it was too much for him, all of it, and he gave up.

And now they're gone and— He has to be here. He has to endure whatever other people want to do to him, even— Whatever this is. He has to endure it for them, at least until he knows for sure that they aren't coming back.

"Why did you try to kill yourself, David?" Amahl asks. "The monster was gone. Or did you not know it?"

"I knew," David admits. "I felt it. But—"

"But what?" Amahl prompts.

David can't answer that. He can't explain that the only reason he stayed alive all this time was for Divad and Dvd. He never deserved to live. But he didn't want to hurt them. He couldn't hurt himself without hurting them. So he stayed alive for them.

"I know your history, David," Amahl says. "I spoke with your family, your classmates. I know what you have suffered. But I also know you are a person with a great deal of compassion and love. Despite your suffering and because of it, you want to help people. You want to be a doctor, to make the world— Better?"

David hesitates. Divad is the one who wanted them to be a doctor. David gave up on being in the world and Dvd only wanted to keep them safe from it. But— Before college, before things got— Unbearably bad— Back when David was still part of the world— It feels like so long ago, but he always felt— Frustrated. They have so much power and it's so utterly useless. It's helped them survive, but it couldn't save them from the monster, it couldn't save Mom from her own body. They couldn't use it to help anyone else because their powers have to be a secret and no one can know, not even Amy, because if anyone finds out what they really are, what they're capable of— They'll be taken away and hurt and maybe even killed. And of course that's what would happen. They think he's crazy. The world already wants to take him away and hurt him and lock him up because of that. If they knew he was mutant and thought he was crazy—

But now their powers are gone, just like Divad and Dvd and the monster are gone. And Amahl said he's not crazy anymore, but he's still sick. He's just a sick, powerless human, alone in his body like everyone else. He's finally—

Normal. Or as close to normal as he'll ever get.

"That is what I wish as well," Amahl continues. "Together we can be— Archēgon tēs sōtērias autōn. The model of their salvation. We can reach into the essence of the world and remove the source of its pain. Stay alive for me, David. Be my patient. Open your mind to me so I may make you whole. Together we will make the whole world better."

That's— All of that is— Extremely ambitious. David would call it insane, but that doesn't really seem appropriate. A cure for madness? Is that even something that can be cured? Can he be cured? What does that even mean?

What does it even mean that he's sick?

"I fear I've given you a great deal to think about," Amahl says, dryly amused. "Perhaps too much. It wasn't my intent to burden you."

"No, I—" David starts. "It's a lot, but— Helping people. Making sure— No one has to go through what I did?"

Amahl nods.

"That's—" David clenches his fists, feels the pull of the stitches. "No one else should— Have to feel what I feel."

"A noble sentiment," Amahl says, warmly. "Then you'll be my patient? My key?"

"I don't know if I can help anyone," David says. "But— If you can use me—"

His own life doesn't matter one way or the other; there must be thousands, millions of suicidal people Amahl could replace him with. But then— It's an awful thing, that there are so many people who want to die, and David's heard them: in the psych wards, the hospitals, everywhere. He's heard the thoughts of so many people in pain, but— He was always in too much pain himself to do anything to help them. Maybe— Now that the monster's gone, he can help them. Maybe not directly, he's— He's absolutely useless, obviously, but— Amahl wants to help them. His dream sounds— It's a good dream, wanting to help people in pain, make the world better. And for some reason, he's convinced that David is the key to that dream.

After everything Amahl has done to help him— The least David can do is stay alive for him. Listen to him, try to— Open his mind so Amahl can heal him. Maybe there's nothing left to heal, but— Amahl seems to believe David is worth saving. That he's— Valuable.

He doesn't remember it, but— Amahl saved his life, got the monster out, watched over him and took care of him while their body healed. He even saved David's life again after he—

Amahl's— A lot like Divad and Dvd, now that David thinks about it. Protecting him, keeping him safe, even from himself. And now he wants to heal David's mind, to cure his sickness, to make him— Whole, somehow.

It must be nice, to be whole. It must be so wonderful.

"Then you will stay alive for me?" Amahl prompts. "You will accept my gift?"

"Yes," David agrees, surrendering himself to whatever he'll have to endure. And that earns him Amahl's widest smile yet.

Chapter 60: Day 10: There's always room for cherry pie. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

I cannot sleep, I cannot sleep. A shadow holds me in his keep.

Oliver is bored of waiting for his body to finish sleeping. Jazz helps, but that was never enough even in the ice cube. What truly helps Oliver is poetry.

He can't quite remember them— Fully. The poems. They're all jumbled up, scrambled eggs. He can't even remember who wrote them. But they must have been very important to him once because he remembers them better than anything else. Perhaps they meant something. Perhaps he loved them. They're mostly very sad, the poems. If they were meant to cheer him up, they weren't a very good choice. Still, he finds them fitting.

Dead eyes see, and dead eyes weep, dead men from the coffin creep, a nightmare of murder in the mind. Murder has the ghost of shame—

The jazz stops. Oliver opens his eyes to see Cary taking away his headphones.

"Is it morning?" Oliver asks, blandly.

"Close enough," Cary says. "How did you sleep? Or— Not sleep?"

"It was quite dull." Oliver sighs. "You're certain I have to keep doing this?"

"Absolutely," Cary says, firmly. "Sleep is very important. We'll figure out how to help your mind sleep with your body soon. Divad has some very promising ideas."

"Divad? Oh yes, David," Oliver says. Now he remembers.

Cary's concerned face grows even more concerned. 'Perhaps Clark was right about the dementia, too.' "I think it's time we tested your memory. First thing after breakfast. We have to take care of your body and your mind."

Oliver has enjoyed eating again since he left the ice cube. Though mostly he prefers a liquid diet. He hasn't had a real drink in— An indeterminate amount of time.

"Should I relay David's thoughts?" Oliver asks.

"Let's wait until after we do the memory test. Divad and Dvd can speak to us without that while they're sharing their body."

Over breakfast, everyone who can drink drinks a great deal of coffee. Oliver listens idly to their thoughts. Sleep and dreams seem to be on everyone's mind. David is quite worried about himself, about the part of himself that thinks he doesn't exist. He's angry about having to watch himself commit suicide. That does sound unpleasant. Both parts of him that are awake are absolutely furious, even though one of the parts is pretending not to be.

Even without the relay, Oliver likes listening to David. He has such an interesting mind. Oliver remembers being curious about David from the start. He was so unusual, so incongruous and impossible to ignore. Oliver learned to ignore most things on the astral plane. The vast subconscious is a very muddy place, full of strange and wandering minds, quite unsafe outside of his ice cube. David was quite lucky to be found, and he'd have been much better off if he'd simply stayed with Oliver in the ice cube until the monster went away.

They would have all been better off, frankly.

And with two more people, they could have formed that barbershop quartet. Actually, thinking about it now, they didn't even need two more people. Perhaps he can convince David to take him up on the offer now. No, that wouldn't work, all three voices have the same range. Unless they make two quartets— Then they could have a competition. That would be pleasant. There's Cary and— He keeps forgetting about Ptonomy, he's far too quiet. He can ask that Clark fellow, and there's plenty more men in the vicinity. Really, it should be a simple matter to gather four tenors, two basses, and two baritones.

"March 5th Street old building plaster apartments in ruin," Oliver recites, "Super he drunk with baritone radio AM nose-sex."

Everyone stares at him.

"Nose sex?" David echoes, baffled.

"Arm laid to rest," Oliver continues, caught up in remembering. "Head back, wide-eyed morning, my song to who listens, to myself as I am."

"What the hell's wrong with him?" David asks Cary.

"Dvd, don't be rude," Cary chides. "Oliver's been through a very difficult time."

"He has detachment syndrome," David reminds himself.

"What does his soul have to do with wacko poetry?" David asks himself.

"I dunno, I kinda like it," Kerry says.

"It doesn't make any sense," David tells her.

"That's why I like it," Kerry replies. "It's, like, not supposed to make sense. It's—" She searches for a word.

"Evocative?" Cary offers.

"Evocative," Kerry agrees.

"It's called beat poetry," Cary tells them. "Oliver's absolutely passionate about Ginsberg. He's always carried some around with him and loves reciting it. I still remember the opening lines of Howl. 'I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness, starving, hysterical, naked, dragging themselves through the negro streets at dawn looking for an angry fix.'"

"Madness is right," mutters David.

"That's about addiction," David says, not pleased. "The last thing David needs is something to remind him of all that."

"I'm sure David can handle a few lines of beat poetry," Amy assures them. Oliver keeps forgetting she's there, too. And the other one, Lenny. He spent a lot of time with her — an indefinite amount of it — but he wasn't sure who she was and she wasn't either. That seems to have been sorted out now.

"David's fine," Lenny agrees. "Or he will be if he ever finishes his power nap. I say we drop him back in his body and give him a shake."

"It won't work," David says. "And it's not good to stress him right after he comes back. He only goes away because he has to. He comes back as soon as he can."

"David was mentally exhausted when we kept him from going away," Ptonomy reminds them. "Whether he's here or not, he has to rest. We need to be more careful from now on, keep things from getting to be too much."

"We're not the ones who pushed him too hard," David reminds him. "You tricked us."

"David needed to hear the truth from you," Ptonomy defends. "Today's going to be a lot for him. So whether David is in your system's body or not, he needs someone keep a close eye on him at all times. If one of you can't handle that, the other will have to do it."

"Oh, I got this," David insists. "David's safe with me."

"You're the one who broke him," David reminds himself.

"Only because you broke him first!" David protests. "And you hurt our body!"

"It's fine," David insists. "I'm healing it. Cary scanned us, he said we're fine."

"Oh, if Cary said it," David taunts.

"Shut up," David warns himself. "Cary actually listens to me and he's helping us. Don't mess this up."

Lenny snaps her fingers. "Yo, Davids," she says, sharply. "I know you're worried but dial it down."

"Davids?" David asks. "Is that your nickname for us?"

"Yeah, it is," Lenny says. "You're the Davids. Got a problem with that?"

David considers this. He's pleased but doesn't want to show it. Then he shrugs. "Eh, it's fine."

Lenny gives Ptonomy a smug look. He rolls his eyes.

"The Davids it is," Ptonomy accepts. "Though we still need to ask David."

"I'm sure he'll be awake soon," Cary assures them, though he's lying to calm them. "In the meantime, Oliver and I are going to do our first round of memory tests."

"Does he remember anything besides wacko poetry?" David asks.

"Dvd," Ptonomy chides. "He remembers you. He remembers David. That's why he's here and helping us. Don't take your resentment of this situation out on him."

David argues with himself briefly. "Sorry, Oliver," he mutters. He stabs at what's left of his breakfast, sullen.

"It's quite all right," Oliver assures him. "The motion of change is beautiful, as well as form called in and out of being. Though we're overwhelmed with unpleasant detail."

Everyone looks to Cary for an explanation.

"It means— He wants to help," Cary interprets. "And he understands the pain you're going through."

"Oh," David says. He looks at Oliver, wondering. "You started Summerland."

"Did I? Yes, that does sound familiar," Oliver says.

"Melanie thought about you a lot. You taught her about telepathy. Do you remember any of that?"

"You want a teacher," Oliver says, knowing it.

"We know all about our powers," David says, defensive. "We don't need help. We just— Have some questions. You're the only mutant like us, besides—" He thinks angry thoughts. "Anyway, if you're just swiss cheese then forget it."

"The entire universe is a manifestation of one mind," Oliver tells them. "When you're ready to ask, I'll do my best to have an answer."

David looks at him, hopeful and vulnerable. Then he pulls into himself like a turtle into its shell. He wants help but finds the asking painful. He believes he's only ever had himself. He believes love will destroy him. He believes he's going to be forced to hurt the whole world. He's very, very, very afraid. He's trying to be brave for himself, but the two parts of him that are awake are as terrified as the part that believes it doesn't exist.

Harmony and discord. Broken minds in beautiful bodies unable to receive love because of not knowing the self as lovely. Oliver wants to help David make the song of his mind something beautiful.

David goes suddenly still, and Oliver hears why. "It seems you're waking up," he tells him, even though David is already rushing from the table. Lenny and Amy follow him.

"Okay, we talked about this," Lenny says. She directs David and Amy to sit opposite the part of David that's waking up. David wraps himself in a blanket and then steps out of himself.

"We're clear," David says.

"Good, now get back to the table," Lenny says, and heads back herself. "Everybody be cool. Talk about— Poetry or something."

"No more poetry," David groans, but only Oliver hears him.

Oliver listens while the others talk. The other parts of David listen, too.

David rouses slowly, his mind sluggish, his thoughts hard to lift. When he hid from himself he was overwhelmed by despair and shame and terror. His song was agitato, trills and short staccatos, only drowned out by a deep, thundering roar before it all crashed into silence. Now, as his mind clears, he's a long, tense note of uncertainty, the cautious flute of his senses like a timid child at a pool, testing, braving an inch at a time.

When he sees Amy, his song stutters, then bursts into glorious joy. He lunges into his body, barely flinching at the pain inside it, and falls into Amy's waiting arms.

"Amy," David weeps, a cacophony unto himself.

"I'm here," Amy soothes, as they hold each other tight. "Shh, I'm here."

The other parts of David watch, silent, longing to be the one in David's arms, the one in Amy's. Their songs contrast with David's, similar but dissonant with resentment and love, suppressed and unsuppressed, high and low clashing against each other in waves.

'We have to forgive her,' David tells himself.

'Never,' David thinks back, but he's lying. He wants to forgive Amy but it hurts, it hurts so much. She was the one who promised to always protect them and she put them in that place and left them there to rot. How can they ever trust her again? 'If we trust her, the shit beetle will use her to hurt us again.'

'And if we don't, David won't trust us,' David thinks back. 'Amy is the closest thing he has to us, that's what he remembers. We have to forgive her. Shit, is the relay on? Oliver, is the relay on?'

'Not yet,' Oliver replies. 'It seemed a private moment. But since you asked— I have lost— A great deal, I think. Life is irrelevant, but— Melanie is not. You are not. Perhaps love is not, if you can have it. If it's not— Lost to you.'

Melanie. He can't find her, not the way he is. Sick. He feels another distant pang of grief. It's quite far away, but he recognizes it more easily now. Perhaps staying in his body will help him get better and then he'll be able to find her. And then the pang will go away. He'd quite like that, he thinks. Listening to David's grief is quite enough.

'You can't read Amy's mind either,' David argues. 'No one can. We don't know what she's up to.'

'It is disconcerting,' Oliver admits. 'The silence. Unnatural.'

'David's the one who listens for us,' David thinks. 'We can only hear each other and— We can't not hear him. The monster— Broke him open. Can you— Fix him?'

'I don't know,' Oliver admits. 'Cary said you can help me sleep with my body. Can you?'

'We don't know,' David admits.

'We must pool our resources,' Oliver decides. 'With Cary's assistance, of course. He has a great many machines.'

'Cary's okay,' David says, and means it more than he wants to admit.

'He is,' Oliver agrees, and feels— A new pang. It takes him a while to place it. What's the word? Frog? Fondue? No, fondness. He feels fondness for Cary. Interesting. Does he feel fondness for other people? Yes, he feels fondness for David. That's much more pleasant than grief.

In the loveseat, David has finally held Amy long enough to engage with his surroundings. He looks over at the table. "Lenny?" he asks, staring, cautious.

"Hey," Lenny says, casually. "Had a good nap?"

"How long—?" David asks. He wonders if he was gone for days.

"Eh, just one night."

David's relieved. It scares him, the blankness, the absence he finds himself compelled into. He doesn't want it to keep happening. It makes him feel even more vulnerable than he already feels— But— Everything is calm. Amy's here, Lenny's— Relaxed. Everyone's sitting together for breakfast. He wants to be with them.

David tugs at the blanket around his shoulders and holds it in place with one hand and takes Amy's hand with the other. They come back to the table and everyone shifts so they can sit together. David looks at the other parts of himself and doesn't know what to say.

The other parts of David don't know what to say either.

David looks at Lenny, still taking in her presence. The sight of her bring back so many memories of Lenny being with him, watching over him, keeping him— Not sane or safe or whole, he was never any of those things, but— He always felt less crazy and scared and broken with her.

It hurts so much that it hurts to look at her. David just wants to have her back, like he has Amy back. He knows nothing that happened was Lenny's fault. She was just a mask. She came to the desert and saved his life. He trusts her. He knows he can trust her. She's not Amy anymore. She's not anyone but Lenny.

But there's something wrong. There's something— He can't think about. He can't think about it. So he won't. He just won't. Then it will be okay. Everything will be okay.

He musters a smile for Lenny. She likes it.

"So what did I miss?" David asks, lightly.

"Eh, not much," Lenny says. "We figured out some boring medical stuff. Turns out we gotta stay in our bodies. All of us. These new bodies are wild, right? Just like the real deal. Wish I could eat, but— You gotta eat for me. Get some cherry pie or something. I hear this place makes great cherry pie."

Cherry pie. David misses cherry pie. It's the perfect food, all that crust and cherries. Since he came back, whenever he felt down, he would go to the cafeteria and have pie or waffles and that made him feel better for a while.

That's almost all he ate, now that he thinks about it. He needed it, things were so bad, but— That probably wasn't good for him. But things are still really bad. It would help to have— Something.

"How about we go get you some?" Amy offers. "The five of us."

David isn't really hungry, but— There's always room for cherry pie. "Okay," he says. Leaving the lab— He knows he's still a prisoner but it helps him feel less like a prisoner anyway.

David notices that the other parts of him still haven't said anything. "I guess you have to come," he says, apologetic. They're all stuck with each other. David should really make that new bedroom for them so they can— He knows now that— He can't fix their system. He can't—

"It's not all on you," David tells himself. "It's our fault, too. We can't get back what we had, but— You're our David. And we're a system. We just have to keep trying, right?"

"And we're brothers," David adds, firmly, to make himself believe it. "We're brothers."

"Brothers," David echoes, his shame edging back. Trying feels so hard right now. He has so much healing to do and it feels so impossible that he'll be able to do it. But— He's here and he's not alone. He's loved and there's no shame in love. He's strong enough to heal.

The words help. He tells them to himself again. He thinks about Amy and Lenny and cherry pie and— Divad and Dvd. His brothers. Siblings are— They're not always easy to get along with. He's had fights with Amy. They always made up again. He lost Amy for a while. She lost him for a while. Now they're back together. As long as they keep trying—

They just have to keep trying. That's all they have to do.

Oliver thinks he'd quite like to have some cherry pie himself. He can't remember if he's ever eaten it before but David certainly makes it sound appealing. "Let's get a table for six," he decides.

"Eight," Kerry declares. "Hot chocolate was good, I want to try cherry pie." She's excited at the idea that she could have three foods she actually likes to eat and that one of them even involves chewing. She likes the idea of liking the same food as David, just like she and Cary both enjoyed the hot chocolate. She might not enjoy eating but she likes eating with other people, with her friends. Cary said that made the food extra nutritious so it'll probably counteract the sugar.

"I'll pass," Syd says. "Ptonomy and I have a session." She does have a session, but she doesn't have to have it now. She doesn't want to go. She doesn't want—

"Oh," David says, disappointed. He wants Syd back, too, even though— But no, that's—

"Then let's go," Lenny says. "Hey, you guys mind if we turn the relay on? You know, so we can all be together."

Part of David didn't even know it was off. The other parts—

'Do we have to?' David whines.

'I want to be able to speak for myself,' David insists.

'I don't care about that,' David insists.

'Now who's the liar?' David thinks. 'Just— Stay focused on keeping us safe.'

David relents. "Fine, turn it on."

Oliver begins relaying. Cary's memory test will have to wait.

"Hey, guess what?" Lenny asks David. "I figured out what to call your system. You're the Davids, get it?"

"The Davids?" David asks. He thinks it's kinda funny but he's not sure Dvd and Divad will like it.

"We like it," David tells himself. "We look the same and we're all parts of David Haller. So we're all Davids. You're a David, too."

"I'm a David?" David echoes. He thinks about that. It's still strange, disconcerting, being— a third of himself. But— That's what he is. He had to accept what he is. "I'm a David." Not just David, but a David. That's— It's easier, somehow.

And Divad and Dvd, they're Davids, too. They're other parts of him. Of course he can— Get along with himself. That's— Of course they'll be okay. The Davids will be okay. And there'll be cherry pie. Cherry pie and Amy and his David brothers and his friends. Everything will be okay.

§

Chapter 61: Day 10: A ghost in a haunted house. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"I guess the garden is our spot for this?" Syd asks.

"Does that work for you?" Ptonomy asks. "It's good for us to be outside. And I know it's easier for you to have our sessions in private."

Syd shrugs. "It's fine. I know it's not really private. Division 3 is always watching." It's David more than Division 3 that she wants to hide from. Of course, right now David is eating cherry pie in the cafeteria, with his family and friends. Without her.

But that's fine. David should be with the people who can keep him safe. Syd isn't safe for him. She takes a sip from her coffee and lets the mug warm her hands through her gloves.

“You did a lot of thinking yesterday,” Ptonomy says, starting their session. “Let’s talk about that. I asked you to think about your foundation, the ideas inside them, including the ones you've decided to reject.”

Syd nods.

"How about we start with the rejects?" Ptonomy asks. "Tell me the ideas you don't want to believe."

Syd hesitates. "It's not that I-- Don't want to believe them. It's that they're wrong." When Ptonomy gives her an expectant look, she pushes herself on. "You told David not to put lies into his foundation. I don't want lies in mine either. I don't want to lie to myself. That's not going to help me."

"That's a very absolute way of thinking about it."

"That's how I got used," Syd points out. "If I'd-- Faced my fears instead of lying to myself--" Farouk couldn't have tricked her in the desert. If she hadn't been in denial about being afraid of David, Farouk couldn't have convinced her that he was too dangerous to live.

"The truth is important," Ptonomy agrees. "But there's a lot of different kinds of truth. Not just between individuals, but within ourselves. Just because an idea doesn't match reality doesn't make it a lie. Just because something is true, that doesn't mean you have to believe it."

Syd gives him a skeptical look.

"Those concepts would be challenging for anyone,” Ptonomy admits. “But you’re capable of understanding them. There’s a reason you’re rejecting them. Black-and-white thinking is part of your BPD."

Syd looks away. She's still not happy about that diagnosis, even if she can't deny it. She did her homework on it. She knows she fits the criteria. She knows that's why she can't control her anger, why she was so afraid of losing David. It's why she lost him.

She's accepted that, now. She lost him. Her David is gone. She killed him.

A wave of grief catches her off-guard and she closes her eyes against it, pushing it back down.

"You grieved with Divad and Dvd yesterday," Ptonomy says, gentler. "How do you feel now?"

"Awful," Syd admits. "I miss him so much. But I can't--" She swallows. "I know he's gone. He won't be-- Even if he gets better, he can't be who he was. He can't-- Stop being a telepath or-- And I don't want him to-- Change himself for me. I don't want that."

"I'm glad to hear that. So what do you want?"

"I don't know," Syd says, honestly. "I guess-- Just to see if-- We can start over. I still-- I still love him so much, but--" She doesn't want her anger to hurt him. She doesn't want to feel like she has to punish him. She still feels like she has to punish him. "I'm angry. I'm so angry."

She's angry at him for being taken. She's angry at him for changing. She's angry with him for-- For being too weak for her anger.

"You can't start over with David if you're still holding on to your anger," Ptonomy says. "So talk about it."

Syd shakes her head, reflexive. She doesn't show her anger. She doesn't show any of how she feels to anyone. That's not what she does.

But she knows what will happen if she doesn't change.

"You know," Ptonomy says, "being the memory guy did a lot for me. It gave me a home and a lot of challenging work. Melanie took me under her wing, just like she did with you, and she helped me work on myself. But at a certain point I started coasting just like you did. All of this has been-- A hell of a wake-up call for all of us. No exceptions. So you need to allow yourself to see that you're not facing this alone."

"I know," Syd says. She does. She's watched everyone go through these-- Moments of crisis, of revelation and change. She's watched them help each other, but--

"I've been doing this thing," Ptonomy says. "A kind of matchmaking. Looking to see who's compatible with who. We need to help each other to get through this, none of us can do it alone. Some of us, I barely had to do anything. Amy, Cary, Kerry, David-- They found each other. This morning, Divad and Dvd made their first steps to becoming part of that family they're building together. Call it-- The Haller-Loudermilks. But then there's the rest of us. You, me, Lenny. We don't have families, not anymore. We're the loners. It's hard for us to trust, to reach out and open ourselves up. The two of us each had Melanie but she didn't share back. Melanie only wanted to share with Oliver."

Syd nods.

"But Lenny surprised me," Ptonomy continues. "Because I genuinely didn't see how she was compatible. I thought the relationship she had with David was-- Situational. They survived together and their relationship was obviously important to both of them, but-- She's very different from him. The Haller-Loudermilks, they're all-- Used to being parts of systems. That's not something that comes naturally to you or me. I thought it wouldn't work for Lenny either. But she proved me wrong. She and David have a system, a system that’s endured. And Divad and Dvd were always a part of that system. Seeing the five of you together yesterday, it made me realize there's another family here. The Clockworks family."

"I don't want to be defined by that place," Syd insists. "I was barely there."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "But Lenny and David and his brothers spent a big part of their lives there. It's defining for them. Call it whatever you want, but don't exclude yourself because they had it worse than you. You were there with them for a year and a year is a long time. If you want to be part of David's life again, start by being part of his families. You already are, if you'll just acknowledge it."

"What about you?" Syd challenges.

"Me? I'm the therapist," Ptonomy says, amused. "But I've been working on my own connections. I've been opening up and reaching out to the people I'm sharing my life with. It's not always easy but it helps a lot. Being in the mainframe has been-- A lot harder than I wanted to admit. It's still hard. But it's a lot easier when I don't try to do everything on my own, when I realize that I don't have to."

"And I don't have to either," Syd says, unable to keep the mocking edge from her voice. "I get it."

"You don't, not yet," Ptonomy says. "But you need to try. If you want to get better, you can't do it alone. You can't do it with just your therapist. You refused to do it with David when you were together. You told David you were angry because you changed and he didn't. Now the situation is reversed. When you changed without him, you felt abandoned. How do you think he'll feel?"

"Maybe I shouldn't change," Syd says, tightly. "Maybe I shouldn't be with him at all. Maybe I should let Division 3 take me out of his life for good."

"Is that why you spent all yesterday punishing yourself?"

"Yes," Syd says, honestly. Lenny called it her pity party and fine, that's what it was. So what? "The David I love is dead. The relationship we had is dead. You know what I feel like, being in that lab? A ghost in a haunted house."

"Then you feel like you're dead?"

"I always have," Syd says, a sharp, painful truth breaking free. "I've never been part of anything. I can't touch and no one can touch me. You wanna talk delusions? It was my delusion that I thought I could be part of something. My relationship with David, Melanie's work? They're both gone, what we had is gone. And the work I was so proud of here? It's a fucking joke because I'm more afraid of David than Clark is."

She remembers cutting herself with the dullest blades-- Not, as David thought, because it felt the worst, but-- Because it was the only way she could feel at all. If the blade was sharp, she barely felt it. She needed to feel but she couldn't touch without pain, without disaster. With a dull blade, she controlled the pain.

"Your fears don't invalidate the good work you've done at Division 3," Ptonomy says. "History is full of imperfect people trying their best to follow an ideal. Ideals are impossible for us to reach, but reaching for them is what makes the world better. The people whose lives you saved? The laws and minds you helped change? That's what matters. And you've always been part of things, Syd. Just like David, you've always been part of the world and everything in it."

It's been years since Syd cut herself, but she wants to do it now. She wants to punish herself so badly. She wants to control the pain so it can't control her.

"Talk to me," Ptonomy urges. "I can't read your mind but I know you're suffering. Let the pain out."

Syd says nothing. She can't.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, and pauses, thinking. "Then tell me your foundation. As it is now."

Syd breathes in, holds her breath. Lets it out. Again. She looks down at her open notebook.

"Pain makes us strong. Life is war and I have to survive. I need help. I'm a victim. I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it."

"Okay," Ptonomy echoes, thinking. "There's a lot of pain in your foundation. You hold on to that pain, you use it to protect yourself. You feel that's what makes you strong, that anger makes you strong."

"Yes."

"That's what you taught David. That love makes us weak."

"No, I-- I took that part out," Syd says. "It was wrong."

"Why was it wrong?"

"Because-- The problem isn't love," Syd says, sharply. "I'm the problem. It's me. I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it."

"Why not?"

Syd huffs. "Because-- I hurt people. I hurt David, I hurt my mother, I hurt-- A lot of people. You know what I've done."

"You have hurt people," Ptonomy agrees. "You've made some terrible mistakes. That doesn't mean you don't deserve love. You were willing to forgive David for hurting you. Are you saying you can't give that compassion to yourself?"

Syd-- Stops.

"What is it?" Ptonomy asks.

"I haven't," Syd admits, and she can only say it because David isn't here, because she's accepted he's gone. "I haven't forgiven him. I-- I just wanted to have him back so-- I tried to make myself believe it. But it didn't stick."

"Syd," Ptonomy says, gentler.

"That's why I'm still so angry," Syd admits, to herself and him. "I kept telling myself it wasn't his fault, that he didn't hurt me, but-- God, he hurt me so much. He raped me. He fucking raped me."

"He did," Ptonomy says, regretful. "It was an awful thing he did to you. No matter what the circumstances or his culpability, he did an awful, awful thing to you. He violated your mind and then had sex with you when you couldn't consent."

"What if I can't forgive him for that?" Syd asks, wanting to know.

"Then you can't," Ptonomy says. "But you have to be honest with yourself and David about all of that. You can't pretend to forgive him because you'll just keep punishing him without meaning to."

"What about Farouk?"

"What about him?" Ptonomy asks. "As Dvd says, fuck the shit beetle. These are our lives, not his. We have to make the best choices for ourselves. I don't think David has any expectations of your forgiveness. He obviously feels terrible about what he did to you and doesn't want to hurt you again. Neither Division 3 or David would stop you from leaving if that's what you want. But don't leave with that unresolved, because if you do, Farouk will bring you back and make you resolve it his way."

Does she want to leave?

Does she want to stay?

Can she forgive David? Can she forgive herself?

"I don't know," Syd admits. "And David-- How can I talk to him about this now?"

"Maybe he needs to talk about it, too," Ptonomy suggests. "He's been deeply dissociating from his entire past. Not just the parts he can't remember but the parts he can. There are plenty of things David has lost and can't get back, but there's a lot he just can't bear to hold on to. He needs to make peace with what happened and so do you. There's a lot that David has to get through, but-- This is important for both of you. I'll try to find a time for you two to talk, but you'll need to be ready for it. Can you be ready?"

Syd considers the question. "I can," she decides. She doesn't know if any good will come of it, but-- She needs to talk to David. She needs to be honest with him so she can be honest with herself.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Syd-- Even if you choose to leave, that doesn't change the work you need to do on yourself. That foundation you have right now? If you don't change it, it's going to keep hurting you. You don't deserve that. The people you're with, whoever they are, they don't deserve it either. Your BPD isn't about David. It's about you."

Syd sighs. "I know."

"That reminds me. We're going to talk to Cary and he's going to give you some medications."

"Why?" Syd asks, taken aback.

"BPD isn't just a trauma disorder. It's not just environmental. You're genetically predisposed to it, just like your mother probably was. You don't have mutant emotional regulation and that means the only way we can balance your chemistry is through medication. The good news is that the right meds at low doses can drastically improve your life. They can stabilize your mood and reduce your aggression. But it's going to take some trial and error to figure out what works best."

"What's the point if the world's going to end?" Syd asks, genuinely wanting to know.

"We're not going to let anything happen to David," Ptonomy assures her. "We're not going to let Farouk use him. This is a dangerous situation but we can't let that stop us from living our lives. I'm done being his victim. Are you?"

Is she?

It surprises her that she doesn't know. She doesn't want to be used again, absolutely not. She doesn't want to hurt anyone. She doesn't want to end the world.

But-- There's something in her that feels--

"Syd?" Ptonomy prompts, concerned.

"I don't know," Syd admits. "Maybe-- It's in my foundation, right? I'm a victim."

"That's what you believe now," Ptonomy agrees. "But that doesn't mean it's what you should believe. Those ideas you've written down, it's important to be critical of them. Don't take them at face value, don't assume they're right just because you believe them. Those are other people's ideas and they were put into your head when you didn't have a choice. You have a choice now. You've worked very hard to make yourself believe them, but-- I think deep down, you've always been trying to reject the ones you know aren't yours. But it's hard work and you didn't have the right help."

"Do I have it now?" Syd asks.

"I hope so. I want to help you, Syd. Not to save the world, but because you deserve to be happy. You're more than your pain. You're not a ghost. Sometimes we need help figuring out how to be in our bodies and live in them. It's normal to need help and it's healthy to accept it. How about I give your foundation a little help?" He taps the notebook. "That line, 'I need help'? What do you think about changing that?"

"To what?"

"How about-- I can accept help?"

Syd considers that. "I can accept help," she says aloud. It's-- It feels less like a judgement. 'I need help' is a judgement. 'I can accept help' is-- It's something she can do.

She crosses out 'I need help' and writes 'I can accept help.'

"How does that feel?" Ptonomy asks.

"Better," Syd admits. This session was hard, very hard, but-- She actually does feel a little bit better. Talking to David will be hard but she needs to be honest with him. She's not happy about going back on meds but-- If it helps, if it really helps, she's willing to do it. She does trust Cary to find the right medication for her. He knows what it’s like to be forced to accept the wrong treatment.

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "And Syd? Even if you do leave, we'll still help you. You're our friend. You could go halfway around the world and we'd still help you."

Syd meets his eyes. She hasn't really looked him in the eyes much, with all of this. She was always afraid of what she would see there. But she doesn't see anger or judgement. She sees worry and caring.

"I'm sorry," she says, unprompted. "For being-- Cruel. To you."

"Apology accepted," Ptonomy says. "I'm sorry for the times I've been cruel to you."

"Apology accepted," Syd returns.

Chapter 62: Day 10: Senior officer Busker reporting for duty. (David)

Chapter Text

David reads the flyer Kerry gave him. “Detachment syndrome?” So this is what Lenny was talking about.

“This all comes down to disembodiment,” Cary explains. “There are a number of potential ramifications and the affected are— You, Dvd, and Divad. Oliver. Ptonomy, Amy, Lenny, and even Melanie once we find her.”

David is glad they insisted that he sit down for this. Great, another diagnosis, that’s just what he needs. And everyone else has it, too? “So what does this mean?”

Cary exchanges a glance with Ptonomy. “There’s no immediate danger. Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy are protected by the mainframe and their new bodies. We’re working on ways to treat Oliver, and as for Melanie— Hopefully a simple re-embodiment will be enough.”

David senses a very large ‘but’ coming, and he isn’t disappointed.

“But,” Cary continues, “Without their living bodies to return to—” He stops, starts again. “Division 3 is working on a solution.”

David hardly knows where to start. “How long?” He asks, because— That’s what you’re supposed to ask when someone’s going to die.

“No one’s dying,” Ptonomy assures him. “We’re alive, just disembodied, and there’s no evidence that will change. But eventually— We’ll start to drift like Oliver.”

David looks to Amy, sitting beside him, holding his hand. He just got her back and now— She’s going to forget him, forget— She’s the one who remembers what he can’t and she’s going to forget.

“David,” Amy starts, and he sees that she wants to make this better for him. He can see it on her face. But that’s not really her face and they’re trying to not hide their pain from each other. “I’m— Very scared,” she admits. “Before I got my new body, I was already starting to— Fade away. But I’m better now, I truly am.”

“For how long?” David asks again.

“We just don’t know,” Amy admits. “Cary’s going to test us, track our condition. All of this is— It’s brand new for everyone.”

“We got this covered,” Lenny assures him. “The three of us, we’re okay. We’re backed up. So whatever happens, we’re okay, you got it?”

Backed up. They’re in the mainframe so they’re safe. They’re alive and they’re safe.

“I know you want to focus on us right now,” Ptonomy says, “but this affects you, too. It affects Divad and Dvd. The three of you need to co-exist in your system’s body as much as possible.”

David looks to his brothers. Is he hurting them, forcing them to—

“Don’t,” Divad warns, sharply. “That is one hell of a dangerous thought and it’s not gonna help anyone. This is more of a precaution than anything else, we’re fine. Sharing will help our system heal. We just need to share and there’ll be nothing to worry about.”

“That’s why we’re going to start on your possession trauma today,” Ptonomy explains. “We can’t help you remember your true past until your system is stable. So we need to focus on your memories as they are now.”

“Okay,” David says, but none of this feels remotely okay. He doesn’t want to think about— The things Farouk did to him, the monstrous victim he was turned into. He wants to be his own David.

“You are your own David,” Ptonomy assures him. “But ignoring what happened won’t make it go away.”

“We’re gonna take this slow,” Lenny promises. “We don’t want you going away. You don’t want that, we don’t want that. So we’re gonna stick together just like we always do. We’re on the cruise ship Mental Health, right? Ptonomy’s the captain, Cary’s the engineer? I’m the cruise director. Senior officer Busker reporting for duty.”

David feels his panic recede, and not just because Divad keeps him steady. Lenny was always good at making things feel— Manageable.

“Hey, we want positions, too,” Dvd insists. “I’m head of security.”

“Guess that makes me the head doc,” Divad says, smirking at his own joke.

“Hilarious,” Lenny drawls. “Point is, we’re gonna keep you safe and steer around the icebergs. But they’re sneaky so you have to be our lookout. You have to tell us what’s coming up.”

“Don’t you have the relay for that?” David asks.

“The relay wasn’t enough yesterday. And we have to treat Oliver, too,” Ptonomy says. “He’s still going to help as much as he can, and he can hear you even if he isn’t relaying. But he’s our patient, too.”

Of course. Just when David accepts having his every thought listened to for his own good, he has to give it up.

“The relay is a powerful therapeutic tool,” Ptonomy says. “But we can’t rely on it. The good thing is that you already have a way to share your thoughts with us. You just have to say them. I know you’ve been working on that. And if you’re not in your body, you can share with your brothers so they can talk to us. Remember your plan, to take turns? We’re going to do that, too. Divad and Dvd need their sessions and they need time in your system’s body. It’s a lot to balance but that’s why we’re going to work together and take it slow.”

David rubs at his face. “This is— A lot,” he agrees. And they haven’t even started yet.

“Yeah,” Lenny agrees. “But that’s how we’re gonna get all the Davids better together.”

David tries to imagine dealing with all of that but it’s just so much. And Amy— She’s sick. She doesn’t have a body. Ptonomy and Lenny don’t have bodies.

“We’ll be okay,” Amy promises. “The Admiral will find a solution. You saved his life, David. He’s very grateful and he won’t let anything happen to us.”

The insanity creature. That’s right. All of that happened so fast, and Ptonomy’s death was— But the attack was meant for the Admiral. David stopped it. That’s— It helps to remember he did something right, even when everything was falling apart. He isn’t just— Farouk’s victim.

He needs to do this. He needs to heal so he can be strong, so Farouk can’t use him ever again. He’s his own David, not Farouk’s. Sharing his—Their body and facing his past will help him be strong, help his system be strong.

“Yeah, okay,” David says, rallying. “I can do this.” He looks to his brothers. “We can do this.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Ptonomy says, warmly. “I want you to take some time and relax. Be with Amy, with Lenny, with whoever you want to be with. I’ll help Cary with Oliver. When the relay’s back, we’ll get started.”

David takes a deep breath, lets it out. He can do this.

Cary, Kerry, and Ptonomy go to work with Oliver, and the relay goes off. David looks at Lenny, at Divad and Dvd, at Amy.

“I’m sorry,” he tells them. “All of this— I wish I could—“ This stupid crown. If he didn’t have to wear it— “Maybe The Admiral would— I could help if he just let me try. He— I’d let Cary put the crown back on, I swear.”

“Believe me, I tried to tell him that,” Lenny says. “But your treatment has to be our priority. That’s what the numbers say. You gotta get better.”

“So I don’t end the world,” David says.

“You got it,” Lenny agrees. “We’re not gonna let that happen. It’s our job to keep you safe, not the other way around. So the crown stays on.”

David stands up and hugs Lenny tight. Lenny was never a hugger, but— He can’t help it, he has to.

“Oof,” Lenny grunts, patting his back. “Okay, big guy.”

“You’re alive,” David says, because he still can't quite believe that she is. So much happened, he gave up hoping there was anything left of her to save. When she came back he wanted her to be real, he wanted to believe that something of Lenny and Amy survived. And they did. They’re both alive and themselves and they’re doing everything they can to save him. Maybe there were times when they gave up on each other, but— They kept trying. They’re all here and alive so they can keep trying. “You’re both alive.” They don’t just look alive, they really are alive.

He lets her go, and Lenny visibly collects herself. “Yeah, who knew, right?”

“I wish—“ David starts. “I’m so sorry I let you—“ She killed herself in front of him, over and over, begging for his help. And he just turned away. “Lenny, I’m so sorry for— All of this.”

“It’s been shit,” Lenny says, blunt as ever. “Not gonna lie. But you didn’t do anything to me. It was him. And you’re gonna get better so we can stop him. You’re not the one who wants to end the world, that’s him. We’re stronger than him and we’re not his victims.”

David really wants to believe that.

He steps forward to hug Lenny again.

“Okay, that’s enough.” Lenny firmly pushes him back. “You’ve got plenty of huggers here. Go hug one of them.”

David steps back, abashed, but when he turns Amy is waiting. “You can always hug me,” she says, pulling him into her arms. He holds her back, impossibly grateful that he can.

“I don’t want you to forget,” David says, tightly. He just got her back, he can’t lose her again, he can’t lose her to some— Stupid disease when she survived—

“Then put everything you have into getting better,” Amy says, letting him go. “And then— We’ll find a way to make everything else better.”

They’re right, he knows they’re right. As much as he wants to— Rush out and save everyone— That didn’t work out so well last time. Playing the hero. It didn’t work out with his brothers, either. It didn’t work out with Syd.

God, Syd. He’s been so busy with everything that he’s barely talked to her for days, since— She told him about her session with Dvd and Divad. And then— That was a total disaster. She’s probably afraid of upsetting him again. He hates being so— Fragile. He’s always been fragile and he’s always hated it. Or— That’s what he remembers. But Divad and Dvd treat him like he’s always been fragile, too, so that’s probably true in both his histories. But then he did have a monster in his head, keeping him from ever healing enough to be strong.

Syd’s sitting alone, reading— Not a book this time. Printouts. He can’t make out the text but it looks technical.

“Do you think I should—“ he asks, uncertain. Ptonomy said he should be with whoever he wants to be with, but— It’s true he’s been busy, but every time he so much as looked in her direction she looked away. She didn’t even come with them for cherry pie. She told him she likes cherry pie now, but— It wasn’t really about the pie.

“Talk to Syd?” Lenny finishes for him, and not quietly. Syd looks up at the sound of her name. “Sure, why not? Go say hi.”

David gives Lenny a glare for that. Now they have to talk. Some cruise director she is. This is obviously her revenge for the hug.

David mentally braces himself and walks over. Syd’s sitting on a loveseat so he sits on the sofa. He leaves— A lot of personal space between them. Even though she keeps trying to touch him—

“Hey,” Syd says, and— She doesn’t seem actively displeased by his presence, so that’s a start.

“Um, hey,” David says. “I just— I’ve got a break, apparently, so—“ He doesn’t know what to say. When he doesn’t know what to say these days, he just apologizes, because he’s fucked up his entire life and every single relationship in it so he really can’t go wrong with an apology. “I’m sorry about— The other day.”

“Oh,” Syd says, in soft surprise. “That was really my fault. I should have let you rest. I’m sorry, too.”

There’s an awkward silence. David can’t deal with it.

“So this whole detachment thing,” he tries. “I can’t believe— I mean, Oliver was pretty weird when I found— When he found me. I guess— I won’t be astral projecting all the time when this is over. I’m gonna miss it, but— I don’t want to—“ God, Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy. They’re— No, he has to hold himself together. He can’t keep falling apart every time he talks to Syd.

“It’s scary stuff,” Syd says. “Cary thinks I can help. Because of my powers. I’m— I might be immune, or— Extremely resistant.”

“Wow,” David says, genuinely. “Is that why, when we switched—“

“Why you felt like me for days?” Syd says. “Looks like it. But I always feel like me. So maybe that will help with everyone else.”

“That would be— Amazing,” David says. Syd’s always been amazing but— If she can help save everyone, that would be—

“David,” Syd says, shifting to a serious tone. “We need to talk.”

They both wince.

“Maybe not the best choice of words,” Syd admits. “I know things have been— Overwhelming for you. I didn’t want to get in the way. But— If now's a good time—“

David nods. He doubts he’ll be in any better shape once they start digging into his possession trauma. He’s already trying not to think about how nervous he is.

“I’m sorry, but— I lied, before. About forgiving you. I haven’t forgiven you and I don’t know if I can.”

“Oh.”

“And— I have BPD. Borderline personality disorder. That’s why I get— Angry at you. I lied because I didn’t want to lose you, but— I kept punishing you for— A lot of things. I don’t want to do that.”

David tries to take all that in and fails. “Could we go back to— You have BPD? I thought—“

“And antisocial,” Syd says. “And haphephobia.”

“Are you trying to collect more than me?” David asks, half in jest. “Because if you’re immune to detachment there’s no way you’re gonna win this.”

Syd actually manages a half a smile for that. He missed her smile. He misses her. He misses— But it doesn’t matter what he misses, what he wants. He knows it can never matter again, ever. He hasn’t forgiven himself and— Apparently Syd hasn’t forgiven him either. So they’re in agreement about that.

They both start speaking at the same time, and then they both stop.

“You go first,” David insists.

“No, I said a lot,” Syd says. “You go. What were you going to say?”

David really hates this. He hates— Having to go over all of this again when there’s no point. He hurt Syd unforgivably, end of story.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Dvd mutters.

“What?” David asks, then turns back to Syd. “Sorry, Dvd said something.”

“You said we did that to you,” Dvd reminds him. “You said that what we did to Syd was the same as what Divad and I did to you. So if you’re writing yourself off as unforgivable for that, how do you think that makes us feel?”

“Um.”

“Yeah, um,” Dvd mocks. “Go on, relay that to Syd.”

“I’m not gonna—“

Dvd leans over him menacingly. “Relay.”

David huffs. “Fine. Dvd wants me to relay for him. He said to tell you that I can’t write myself off as unforgivable if it means writing my brothers off as unforgivable.”

“Good,” Dvd declares. “Now tell her that she has to forgive you so you’ll forgive us.”

“I can’t say that!”

“Relay,” Dvd warns. “Or when I’m in our body I’ll do it myself.”

David turns back to Syd, helpless. “This isn’t me, this is Dvd. He said you have to forgive me so I’ll forgive them. Obviously you don’t have to— This is— I don’t know why he’s doing this. What I did has nothing to do with them.”

Syd gives him a considering look. “I know for a fact that making me forget was Dvd’s idea.”

“Yes but—“

“What did they do to you?”

“They— They lied to me. They manipulated me because— They were afraid if I knew the truth— They were trying to help me, protect me, but— I had a right to know. I had a right to— Decide for myself, even if I was— And I told them, I told them that’s what we did wrong with you.”

Syd takes that in. “David?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that Dvd is also you. His feelings are also your feelings. So maybe he’s making you talk about this because— Even if the you part of you isn’t ready to forgive yourself, the him part of you is. He knows you need to.”

“That’s—“ David thinks about that. “But you just said—“

“I haven’t forgiven you,” Syd says. “But I still think you need to forgive yourself.”

David runs his hand back through his hair. “This is— I can’t—“

“You know what?” Syd says. “I think you have forgiven yourself, but you’re too ashamed to admit it.”

David stares at her. “That’s— No, that’s—“

“You figured out what you did wrong. You learned your lesson. You’ve obviously processed it enough to recognize that pattern of behavior and try to avoid it. That’s what forgiving ourselves is. It’s accepting our mistakes, learning from them and moving on. But you won’t let yourself move on because— You’re David Haller’s shame.”

“Okay, she’s good,” Dvd admits.

“But— How can I forgive myself if you can’t forgive me?” David asks.

“That’s why Dvd said what he did. Because that’s what you believe. You’re— Asking me to tell you how to feel, to decide for you if you deserve forgiveness or not. But that’s not my decision, it's yours. If you don’t want to be treated like you’re incapable of making decisions, then you need to stop making other people make them for you.”

David leans back, reeling. How did the conversation even get to this point? “But I’m sick.”

“Is that a diagnosis or a crutch?”

David gapes at her. So does Dvd. At the edge of his vision, David sees Divad watching them.

“So what do you want, David?” Syd asks. “Do you want to be sick or do you want to get better?”

“Better, but—“

“And do you want to be your own David or someone else’s?”

“Mine, but—“

“You’ve already forgiven yourself. Are you going to keep lying to yourself? You just said you didn’t want to lie to yourself. So what do you want?”

David is absolutely stunned. That’s all— But— How did she— He looks to Dvd but he’s equally stunned. He looks to Divad, but Divad isn’t reacting at all.

“I guess— I want to forgive myself?” David tries. He still feels— Ashamed of that. He’s David Haller’s shame. But he’s so tired of being ashamed. He’s tired of being— Not a person. Judging himself— Worthless and— Garbage and— He doesn’t want to feel that way when he has so many people who love him. He doesn’t want to make their love worthless. That would hurt them so much and he doesn’t want to hurt them.

He can’t just— Make the decision and stop how he feels. He knows that. He’s felt so worthless for so long, and it seems he did even before he forgot so much. He accepted what the world told him, but he doesn’t want to accept it anymore. And if he can forgive himself for hurting Syd— Maybe he can forgive himself for— Existing. For being alive. For not killing himself when he had the chance. He can’t remember— Not feeling like he deserves to die.

“David?” Syd calls, concerned.

“Um.” David wipes at his eyes. “I guess— I never— Forgave myself before. For anything. It’s—“ He swallows, wipes his eyes again. “It’s, um— Kind of awful.”

“It’s not supposed to be awful,” Syd says. “You should feel better.”

David shrugs helplessly. “What does it feel like for you?”

Syd considers this. Then she frowns. “I don’t know. I— Can’t remember ever forgiving myself for anything.”

David frowns “But you’re not— You don’t want to—“ When Syd looks confused, he forces himself to finish. “You’re not suicidal.”

“No.”

“Then— What did you do when you did something wrong?”

Syd looks very thoughtful. “I guess— I decided that I didn’t.”

Now David is confused. “You just— Decided?”

Syd nods. She looks to the side, around where Dvd is standing. “Looks like we have that in common, Dvd. We both decided to blame the world instead of ourselves.”

Dvd scowls. “Lady, I am nothing like you. Tell her that.”

David sighs. “Dvd says he’s nothing like you.”

Syd’s reaction is— To smile. It’s not a happy smile. “I doubt Ptonomy will agree with you."

Dvd scowls again and stomps off. He scowls at the room in general, then goes over to where Cary and Kerry and Ptonomy are working with Oliver, probably to scowl at them.

David— Honestly has no idea what to make of any of that. “Sorry about that,” he says, because apparently Dvd is also David Haller’s inexplicable rudeness.

“It’s okay.” Syd’s smile softens into something kinder. “It’s interesting, talking to Dvd. It helps me understand you better. If the offer’s still open— Maybe I could be therapy buddies with your system, and not just you?”

“I guess,” David says, and looks to Divad, who’s still watching them, silent and unreadable. “You’ll have to ask them. We’ll be sharing our body so— You can talk to them then, if there’s time.”

“I will,” Syd says. “You do want to be therapy buddies, right? Because I don’t want you to do it just because I asked.”

“Didn’t I ask you?” David says, lightly, but she has a point. He knows he has certain— Boundary issues. Like not having any. Farouk broke him in a lot of ways. David— Isn’t sure how to deal with that. It’s— A lot like trying to figure out what’s real. He isn’t good at that either.

God, he’s really— Sometimes he doubts he’ll ever get the crown off. He doubts he’ll ever be stable enough for Division 3 to trust him. A hugely powerful mutant who doesn’t know what’s real and trusts too easily? The odds of his release must be— Infinitesimal. But even if he’ll be a prisoner for the rest of his life, he doesn’t want to be— A prisoner of himself, of his pain. Even if he never gets his outside powers back— He can at least try to be happy as he is now. As a relatively powerless, relatively normal person, with only a dozen or so mental illnesses and some harmlessly internal mutant abilities. That feels like— It's probably the best case scenario for someone as damaged as him. Maybe Cary will figure out how to make a crown that doesn’t hurt.

There he goes again, feeling all the wrong things. He should be happy that’s even a remote possibility. It should be enough that he has so many people risking so much to keep him alive and help him heal. He always felt like— He could never fit in, never be normal. He was too sick, and then— Too powerful, and then both. If the best he can do is— Letting himself be turned down to an acceptable level of different— Then surely that’s what he should want. He shouldn’t— want things he can’t have. He absolutely shouldn’t think he deserves more than he’s given.

Like wanting to be with Syd. Even if he’s somehow managed to stumble into forgiving himself— She said she can’t forgive him. And he can’t subject her to— He can’t torture her that way.

“No,” he says, before he can guilt himself into changing his mind.

“Oh.” Syd’s surprised, she didn’t expect that.

“You can still ask Dvd and Divad,” David says, because they’re people, they have the right to decide that for themselves. “But if you can’t forgive me—“ He sounds so selfish, he’s so selfish. It shouldn't matter if she forgives him, she has every right to be angry, to hate him forever, she should hate him, he doesn’t understand why she’s talking to him at all. But he’s angry. He’s angry that she won’t forgive him, even though she shouldn't ever forgive him. He’s unforgivable, as a person, even though— He somehow forgave himself. Accidentally, like— He accidentally helped Division 3 get better and accidentally saved the Admiral’s life. They’re not things he meant to do, they don’t count against— What he is.

David wishes the relay was on, but it isn’t. He has to say what he wants, what he needs, what he thinks. He has to ask for help when his thoughts hurt him, which means he has to tell them to someone. But he feels so ashamed of— Everything. Existing. Being alive. Not killing himself when he had the chance. And he’s angry that he’s ashamed and— Ashamed that he’s angry.

“Hey.” It’s Lenny. “Oliver says Dvd says you need a save.”

“From me?” Syd asks, offended.

“Mostly from himself,” Lenny says. “But yeah. Apparently it’s feels awful to hear that your ex doesn’t think she’ll ever forgive you. Maybe work on that before you ask him to trust you.”

Syd doesn’t like that. She gets up and walks straight out of the lab.

“I don’t understand,” David says, tightly. “She was never— In Clockworks, she didn’t—“ Syd wasn’t— Hard, there. Not that she was ever soft, but ever since he got back, she’s been so hard all the time. She’s been angry and confusing and— She used to make him feel better, but now—

“Syd’s in the middle of some stuff,” Lenny says. “She’s not gonna stop punishing you until she forgives you. And— Syd’s not great with forgiveness.”

“I’m not either,” David admits.

“Hey, that’s what therapy’s for, right? All that processing shit. It's so you can learn and move on. Kinda sucks, but it's better than torturing yourself.”

“Therapy’s torture, too,” David says, reflexively.

“It used to be,” Lenny says. “But it’s not anymore because I’m not gonna let anyone torture you, including these chuckleheads. If Ptonomy gets out of line, you think I won’t give you a save?”

“I thought Ptonomy is the captain.”

“Like I have any respect for authority.”

David has to admit that Lenny has zero respect for authority.

“I signed up for this because someone’s gotta keep you safe, and no one here knows this shit better than me. No one else knows the monster and the inside of your busted head.”

“Divad and Dvd do,” David points out.

“Yeah, and they’re part of your busted head,” Lenny replies. “They’re you, so I’m keeping them safe, too, whether they like it or not. They can consider it me returning the favor.”

“What favor?”

Lenny hesitates. “The favor of keeping your sorry ass alive.”

David can’t help but huff at that, amused despite himself. “Keeping me alive is— A lot of work.”

“You’re a full time job for a lot of people,” Lenny says. “You single-handedly got this recidivist junkie employed.”

“Division 3 is paying you for this?”

“Fuck yeah they’re paying me,” Lenny declares. “Double for danger duty plus overtime. I don’t come cheap. If I gotta work for a bunch of fascists you bet I’m gonna milk them.”

David thinks of something that surprisingly he never thought of before. “Are they paying me? Or— Were they?”

“You don’t know?”

“I have no idea,” David admits. “I woke up here and— They said to stop Farouk. Syd had my clothes, I went to the cafeteria to eat. Everything was— Maybe there's a paycheck somewhere?”

“Let senior officer Busker take care of it,” Lenny says, a gleam in her eyes.

Chapter 63: Day 10: Oliver used to have such a brilliant mind. (Cary)

Chapter Text

Once Oliver is seated and Kerry has finished attaching the electrodes, Cary starts calibrating. Normally he would explain what's about to happen, but— This feels like a good opportunity for Kerry. "Kerry, why don't you explain what we're testing?"

"Oh!" Kerry says, pleased. "Sure!" She gives Oliver and Ptonomy a nervous look, then rallies. "We need a baseline for Oliver's different kinds of memory. Memory's actually— Okay, first there's sensory memory. That's automatic in response to sensory input. Then there's short term memory. We can only hold, like, five chunks of data in short term memory. Long term memory's where it gets complicated. There's— Procedural memory, muscle memory. We remember how to do things, like punching, but— It's like our bodies remember without us. The memories we can actually remember are— There’s semantic memory. That's facts, like— Knowing all the kinds of memory. I'm really good at semantic memory because Cary taught me a lot. But the other kind, episodic, autobiographical memory— I don't have a lot of that." She turns sad, then rallies. "Like David. Like you, Oliver."

"Precisely," Cary agrees, seeing that Kerry needs support. "Of course, the three of you have very different reasons for your— Lack of history. Kerry simply needs to continue having new experiences." He gives her a smile and she smiles back. "David's amnesia is complex. And as for yours, Oliver— First we have to figure out how each of your different kinds of memory are working. Then we can track your progress and start targeting the types of memory that need the most help."

"There's other kinds, too," Kerry adds. "Recognition versus recall. Flashbulb memories. Visual memory. If you can make new memories. Oh, topographical memory!"

"I don't think we'll need to test Oliver's sense of geographic orientation just yet," Cary says. "All right, calibration sorted. Kerry, can you test Oliver's sensory and short-term memory?"

Kerry picks up a light pen and stands in front of Oliver. "I'm going to draw letters and you need to figure out what they are and remember each letter. It's like an eye chart but for your brain. Ready?"

"Ready," Oliver confirms. He watches as Kerry writes on the air.

"Did you remember them?" Kerry asks when she finishes.

"D H J B F," Oliver recalls.

"Excellent," Cary says, pleased to see that the basics are functioning. "Try to remember those letters. I'll ask for them again. That will help us test your ability to make new semantic memories. Can you remember them now?"

Oliver hesitates. "D H... I think there was an F?"

"Oh dear," Cary says, and tries to stay positive. "Well, nowhere to go but up. Try to remember as much as you can. Obviously you have some ability to retain semantic knowledge but isolated information is the hardest to retain. Like a new telephone number. In one ear and out the other."

Oliver visibly concentrates.

"Let's move on to muscle memory," Cary says. "I haven't seen you have any trouble walking or speaking, at least in terms of the physical aspects. But you have been very still. Do you feel any discomfort when you move? Unsteadiness?"

"It's different now," Oliver says. "Moving."

"How so?"

"It was easy in the ice cube," Oliver says. "I danced quite a lot. I felt the need to keep— Moving. Moving was important." He frowns, apparently able to recognize a memory but not recall it.

"But it's not easy now?" Cary prompts.

"It requires— Concentration. I don't quite fit."

Cary ponders this. "Perhaps after twenty-one years of disembodiment— Your mind's sense of physical coherence drifted from the condition it was in when you left your body. Your mind's muscle memory no longer matches the muscle memory in your body. Two versions. It must take a great deal of effort to reconcile those." He brightens. "But the good news is that as with Kerry's experiential memories, the best treatment is to make new muscle memories as you are now. Physical exercise, fine motor skills. Less stillness, more movement."

"If I must," Oliver says, unenthused.

"I'm gonna help you with that," Kerry says, confidently. "It'll be fun!"

"Can you tell me those letters again?" Cary asks.

Oliver hums with thought. "F. And a C? No, not a C..."

"And how many letters did Kerry write?"

"Five?" It's correct, but Oliver sounds uncertain. "Yes, I believe it was five."

Cary reminds himself to stay focused on the work. Now is not the time to get upset. But Oliver used to have such a brilliant mind. He was so quick and— It's no wonder Cary didn't want to admit to himself how much Oliver has— Decayed. "Let's test your experiential memory. There are many phases to a person's life. Childhood memories can be difficult for anyone to recall. Adult memories are typically clear. You also have twenty-one years of disembodied memories that aren't present in your body, and then another year of memories that formed once you were embodied again. Let's start from the beginning. Do you remember your childhood? Your parents?"

Oliver tries. "Not especially."

"Maybe some memory prompts would help, like a photo album?" Ptonomy suggests.

"That is a good idea," Cary says, adding that to his notes. "It didn't work with David because those memories were physically removed. He can't remember no matter how hard he tries. But Oliver's pre-disembodiment memories should all be present and accessible. Perhaps like the muscle memory, the version in Oliver's mind has changed or faded so that— The necessary connections aren't there. It's made his memories— isolated, like the letters. The memories that still have connections, those are the ones that he can still recall."

"So Oliver can remember?" Kerry asks, excited.

"I believe he can," Cary says. "And the more connections are made, the easier it should be for the other memories to become accessible again. Sleep is essential to memory function. We really must find a way to get his mind to sleep with his body again. Ah, but let's continue. Oliver, do you remember Summerland?"

"The name is familiar," Oliver says. "David asked me about it. He wants to pool our resources."

Cary frowns. "You mean Divad? Or Dvd?"

"David," Oliver insists. "Or— Part of him. He doesn't want to hear himself think."

"Which part of him?" Ptonomy asks.

"All the parts."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering that. "Oliver, you said you remember helping people. That's why you're helping us with David."

"Yes," Oliver says. "His warring thoughts. His fear. They're quite familiar. Comforting."

"You helped many people with similar problems," Cary says. "Hearing their thoughts— Those must have made— Powerful memories for you. Now, with the emotional impact blunted, the memories distant— They've become— Soothing. Listening to David's trauma is— nostalgic?"

"Nostalgic," Oliver echoes, considering the word. "Nostalgias of another life. Complexities of memory a thousand miles away."

"More Ginsberg?" Ptonomy asks.

"The poems are a type of semantic knowledge," Cary says. "But they were also a strong part of his experiential memories. Perhaps— Once he realized he was trapped on the astral plane, he used them as a memory aid. But eventually— They were all he had left." It's a sobering thought. "Oliver must have realized he was slipping away, losing coherence. The poetry, the dancing— He was trying to cure his detachment syndrome. It just wasn't enough, not without his body."

He looks to Ptonomy, concerned for him and Lenny and Amy— And Melanie, wherever she may be. This whole situation is— Increasingly precarious.

"Do you remember that, Oliver?" Cary asks. "Do you remember what happened in the ice cube?"

"I was there for quite a long time," Oliver says. "Every day was the same. I could imaginify myself a kingdom but nothing was ever real. Until David. David was real. I couldn't imaginify him away, him or his monster. So I decided to help."

"That's why you came back," Cary says, recalling Oliver's sudden return. Over twenty years of nothing and then there he was. At first, Cary thought that Oliver had finally remembered them and found his way back, but he didn't know any of them. He came back for David. To him, they were just strangers, not his wife and closest friends. They're still basically strangers to Oliver now.

But Oliver does remember Melanie. He remembers her enough to risk his life to search for her.

"Oliver," Cary says, needing to know for himself as much as for understanding of Oliver's condition. "What do you remember about this past year? After you helped us get the monster out of David. Farouk took you over. We tried to find you but every time we got close, we lost you again. Were you aware of your surroundings? Did he keep you somewhere, or— Was he controlling you?"

Oliver consider the question. It obviously takes effort for him to remember.

"I was many places," Oliver decides. "It's hard to say— Which places were real. Sometimes Lenny was there. Sometimes Farouk or Melanie. Sometimes I was— Nowhere. I did what he wanted me to do."

"When did you see Melanie?" Cary asks. "When you came to Division 3 to steal the genetic sculpting gun?"

"Hm, yes, but— Before that. He said it was his gift, the monster. Bringing her from her bad dreams to be with me."

"My god," Cary says, realizing. "Melanie— She was distant, forgetful. She stopped caring about her work, about anything. We thought it was depression, drugs, but— She had detachment syndrome. She already had it."

"How’s that possible?" Ptonomy asks. "She was in her body."

"Farouk got to her through her dreams," Cary says. "Just like he did with David. He took her out of her body — through the astral plane — and into his. She had no mental defenses and she wasn't even aware it was happening because— She was asleep. If she was aware at all, she would have thought she was just— Having a bad dream. He could have worked on her that way for weeks before she became too affected to hide her symptoms."

"Wait," Ptonomy says. "She wasn't just disembodied. She was inside of Farouk."

Cary slaps his forehead. "Of course! Kerry, you said— What did Melanie say when you talked to her?"

"She said— Reality was a choice and the world wasn't real," Kerry recalls. "It was all in her head so she didn't need to save anything. And she said that one of us isn't real, that— One of us is just a fantasy."

"That sounds like Farouk to me," Ptonomy says. "Just like Lenny, she had Farouk's thoughts in her head and she couldn't differentiate them from her own. And like Lenny, Melanie tried to dull those painful thoughts with drugs."

"So all the weird stuff Melanie said, that wasn't her?" Kerry asks.

"It was her, but— Under the influence of Farouk's world view, his ideas." Cary turns to Oliver. "Oliver, do you remember anything else? Things you did and said under his control? Things Melanie did or said?"

Oliver tries. "I'm not sure what happened and— What he imaginified happening."

"Let's go backwards," Ptonomy offers. "Do you remember David torturing you?"

"Yes," Oliver agrees. "That was unpleasant. But he thought I was the monster. His anger was— Quite natural. If anything, the drill was— Too restrained."

Cary suppresses a shudder. "Well. There's no more torturing for anyone."

"What happened before that?" Ptonomy asks.

"He set the trap," Oliver says. "He brought Melanie to the desert. She wanted to be with me in the ice cube."

"That was definitely not Melanie's idea," Cary declares. Then he lowers his voice so David doesn't overhear. "Is that what Farouk wants? To live alone with David in an empty world?"

Ptonomy nods and lowers his voice, too. "It matches. Oliver could create the kingdom of his dreams. Farouk wants to be god using David's powers."

"Farouk should put himself in an ice cube," Cary grumbles.

"Yes?" Oliver asks, suddenly, turning to an empty space. He listens. Then he turns to Ptonomy. "David says he needs help."

Everyone looks at David. He's with Syd and everything seems calm, but— Cary may not be privy to David's thoughts, but he knows that surface calm can be quite deceptive.

"Which David? What's wrong?" Ptonomy asks.

Oliver listens. "Apparently Syd is being a— That's very rude."

"Ah, it's Dvd." Ptonomy goes quiet. "Got it. Lenny's going over now. She'll take care of it."

"I must admit," Cary says. "At times I'm quite jealous of your mainframe link. And Oliver's telepathy. I'd quite like to be able to speak with Dvd and Divad directly."

"They'll be sharing their body today," Ptonomy says. "But— We were considering using telepathic antennae to share the relay with you, Kerry, and Syd."

Suddenly, Syd stands up and walks out of the lab, her body language tense, angry. David looks after her, distraught. Lenny stays and comforts him.

Ptonomy sighs. "Syd's— Not in a good place right now. And if you and Kerry had the relay, Syd would feel even more excluded than she already does."

"That is a shame," Cary says. "If Divad and Dvd wish to, as Oliver said, pool their resources, being able to hear them would make things much easier."

"It would be good for them, too," Ptonomy agrees. "Oliver, is Dvd still here?"

"Yes," Oliver says.

"Dvd, how do you feel about allowing Cary and Kerry to hear the relay? So you can work together with Cary to help David and Oliver?"

Oliver listens. "David said you just said they wouldn't have the relay."

Ptonomy smiles. "Only sometimes. We're still going to keep it up as much as possible, especially when David isn't in your system's body."

Oliver listens some more. "David is having a disagreement."

"Divad and Dvd?" Cary asks. "Oliver, why don't you call them by their names? You never treated me and Kerry like we were the same person. It's really quite rude."

"When we set up the relay, Oliver said— Divad and Dvd's voices and thoughts are just— the thoughts David believes he's having as them," Ptonomy says. "And honestly Lenny's right. When they stop being angry, they do all sound like David. Because they are David."

"Still," Cary says, perturbed.

"Oliver, can you try to refer to Dvd and Divad by their preferred names?" Ptonomy asks.

"They're all David," Oliver insists. "But yes, I do see your point." He listens to something. "David— That is, Divad wants to share the relay so he can speak to Cary. He said he doesn't mind Kerry hearing. But he doesn't want Syd to hear David's thoughts. Dvd— He said he wants Syd to hear him so he can shout at her. He claims not to care about Cary and Kerry, but— Ah, I'm speaking out of turn. My apologies. Balancing these things is— Challenging. I do my best not to listen, but hearing is inevitable."

"You must hear a lot of secrets," Ptonomy says.

"I hear a lot of everything," Oliver replies. "Except from you and Lenny and Amy. Your silence is— Unnatural. Quite unpleasant, frankly."

"I always found the Vermillion soothing," Ptonomy says. "No memories, just data. You don't find all that noise overwhelming? David does."

"David doesn't remember growing up as a mind reader," Cary points out. "It must be different, having that from birth. Our minds adapt to our environment. That kind of constant noise— The mind filters it out or learns manageable ways to interpret it. Like— White noise or synesthesia. Oliver, you used to say thoughts were— Musical?"

"Yes," Oliver agrees. "The music of the spheres. A million melodies, one after another."

"There've been very few identified, powerful mind readers like Oliver and David," Ptonomy says. "The mainframe contains evidence that others exist, but it seems they use their powers to hide themselves. Now that the war's over, maybe they'll feel safe enough to come forward."

"It was a long war," Cary cautions. "And our presence in Division 3 is hardly public knowledge. The worldwide attacks on mutants have stopped but few know why, and the public at large remains ignorant about mutants entirely. The Divisions still suppress knowledge of our existence."

"It's a lot like David's invisible war," Ptonomy muses. "Two sides fighting and forcing the world to forget the fight."

"The cure for the world is the same as the cure for David," Cary says, firmly. "Knowledge and compassion." He waves his hand. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. What should we do about the relay?"

"I've been holding off on this for Syd's sake, but— I think you're right, we need to make the decision now." Ptonomy turns and waves Lenny and David over. "David, Cary and Kerry would like to be able to hear Divad and Dvd through the relay. That means they'll be able to hear your thoughts too. Divad wants to be able to talk to Cary so they can pool their resources."

David takes that in, then listens as his brothers talk to him. "I guess. I trust them, and— I don't want you to feel—" He listens some more, then frowns. "You don't yell at Amy. Wait, you've been yelling at Amy with your thoughts?! Dvd!" He gives an exasperated sigh. "I guess— Since we're going to be sharing our body—" He looks at Ptonomy. "Okay. Cary and Kerry can have the relay."

"Oliver, go ahead," Ptonomy says.

"This won't hurt a bit," Oliver says, and he taps Cary on the forehead. Nothing happens. He does the same to Kerry. She looks at Cary and shrugs.

"The relay is off," Ptonomy reminds them. "Unless we're done with the memory tests?"

"I would like to do some more," Cary says. "How about we do a quick relay test?"

"It's pretty noisy," Ptonomy cautions. "Obviously we want Dvd and Divad to be able to talk to everyone, but if it's too much Oliver can only relay to you as needed. Kerry, the same goes for you. This isn't all or nothing. You do get used to it after a while."

"Relay going on— Now," Oliver says.

"-ary? Cary, can you hear me? This is Divad. Cary?"

"Oh, Divad, hello!" Cary says. It sounds like Divad's voice is coming from next to Ptonomy. "Are you over there?"

"When they speak, you'll hear them directionally," Ptonomy explains. "Thoughts will be heard internally.

'Like this,' Divad says. Or— Thinks.

'Yeah, get used to it,' Dvd thinks. 'I've got my eye on all of you.'

"I'm sorry if Dvd thinks anything rude," David says, pre-emptively. "Or if I— My thoughts can be—" 'Maybe this was a bad idea. Torturing two more people with my thoughts— No, Oliver said he'd turn it off if they wanted. I wish he could turn them off for Divad and Dvd. I wish he could turn them off for me.' "Sorry," David says, resigned.

"It's like Cary," Kerry realizes. "When Cary goes inside me, I hear him in my head." She smiles, delighted. "David, it's like you're part of our system!"

"It is?" David asks.

"It is," Cary confirms. "To be honest, I have missed hearing Kerry that way. Of course I'm very happy to have her outside, but— It has been awfully quiet without her. Three is much noisier than one, but— I think we'll be fine."

"I'm really glad to hear that," Ptonomy says. "Feel free to talk to each other as much as you want. But the Davids have to share their thoughts as part of the relay. They're trusting you with a lot. Let them decide what they're ready to share aloud. Try your best to prioritize what's coming from outside over what you hear inside."

"Okay," Kerry says, determined. "Cary, it's like they're outside and inside at the same time. It's like— We're one big system!" She gives David a hug, and David accepts it, surprised and then touched. "First we both like cherry pie, and now we're a system!"

"I guess we are," David says. 'Kerry,' he thinks, quiet and heartfelt.

'He was ours first,' Dvd warns. 'Just because we have to share him doesn't mean we have to like it.'

"Dvd," Kerry chides. "Don't abuse the relay. You have to say things out loud so everyone can hear them. Right, Cary?"

"Ah, that's right," Cary agrees. That's almost exactly what Cary used to tell Kerry back when he was coaxing her into talking. "If you're going to say things to us, it's only fair if your brothers can hear them, too."

"Fine," Dvd grumbles. "Whatever, I don't want to talk to you anyway. Just remember I'm keeping a close eye on all of you."

"Sorry about him," Divad sighs. "Any progress with Oliver? I was watching David."

"I'll show you my notes after we finish the tests," Cary promises. "We can do the analysis together?"

"Yeah," Divad says, sounding pleased and eager. "Thanks for this, Oliver. It's really— It's been a long time." 'I can't wait to be in our body. This is— I missed it so much.'

'Suck-up,' Dvd grumbles. 'Teacher's pet.' "Don't get distracted. We have to keep David safe."

"I'm helping them so they can help us," Divad replies. "If you help too you might actually learn something."

"Learning's your thing," Dvd insists.

"Are they always like this?" Kerry asks.

"Pretty much," David admits. "They'll calm down. Dvd only really does yelling or— Aggrieved silence. When Dvd stops yelling so does Divad. Though apparently they do a lot of thinking I can't hear." David glares at the empty spot where it sounds like Dvd is standing.

"David, this means everyone can hear you and your brothers except Syd," Ptonomy says. "I was hoping to share the relay with her as well. At this point— I'm afraid she isn't ready for that, and Divad and Dvd and Oliver's needs outweigh that consideration. I hope that will change, but if and when it does, you'll have the right to refuse to share with her."

'Syd doesn't—' David starts, then starts again aloud. "Syd can't forgive me for hurting her, so— I don't think you have to worry about that." 'She shouldn't anyway. God, I really don't want to think about this anymore.' He looks to Lenny, silently pleading for help.

"I got this," Lenny tells him. "You guys finish up with Oliver. I'm gonna take the Davids for a stroll." She gives David a push towards the door.

"Bring Divad back soon so he can help me with my analysis," Cary calls after her.

"Relay going off— Now," Oliver says.

“That was— Wow,” Kerry says, still taking it in. She turns to Cary. “Do you really miss me?”

“Oh Kerry, of course I do,” Cary says, heartfelt. “But I’m so proud of you. Seeing you thrive like this— It means more to me than anything.”

Kerry’s absolutely thrilled by that. “You know, you can be inside me, if you want. We’re a system, you should be inside me sometimes, right? That’s how our system works. We share just like the Davids share. We should share more, too. I want to.”

“We should,” Cary says, warmly. “Not right now, of course. We have a great deal to do today. But— Later, certainly.”

Kerry’s disappointed, but she rallies quickly. “Maybe we can share at night, like the Davids will. Then we’ll only need one cot. And I can eat breakfast for us.”

“Let’s not get carried away,” Cary says, lightly.

“Yeah, you do love eating,” Kerry says. “I wouldn’t want you to stop doing something you love.”

Cary gives her a hug for that. “Let’s finish up with Oliver. Then we can have the relay back on and we’ll be able to hear the Davids again.”

“Yeah,” Kerry sighs, like the thought of it makes her feel— Complete.

Cary is very glad that no one can hear his thoughts. Then he remembers Oliver. He meets Oliver’s eyes.

‘Please don’t tell her,’ he thinks.

‘As you wish,’ Oliver thinks back. The presence of him in Cary’s head is as painfully familiar as the presence of the Davids. In a way, Oliver was part of his system too, back then. Another mind inside his own. And now Cary is an inside mind, and he’s meant to be inside of Kerry.

But he doesn’t want to be inside.

Chapter 64: Day 10: Stop trusting your enemies more than your friends. (Clark)

Chapter Text

Through the communication system embedded in his body, Clark sees David and Lenny approaching his office. Clark might have been caught off-guard by Cary's visit yesterday, but Division 3 is always watching David, which means so is he. He puts aside his work and waits for them to enter.

Lenny knocks first, but it's only for David's sake. Lenny does, after all, have zero respect for authority. From the mainframe, she can see everything he can see and more, including his office. Clark doesn't care for that, but he supposes that keeping his body is worth the trade-off of not having the entire surveillance system in his mind.

"Hey boss," Lenny says, as she strides in like she owns the place.

David follows after her, visibly wary. Clark would enjoy the novelty of David being afraid of him a lot more if he hadn't spent the past week and a half trying not to drown in David's bottomless ocean of trauma. He’s frequently kicked himself for not carrying out his order to kill David the first chance he had. He wouldn’t have ended up with half his face burned off and Farouk would be dead, three birds with one stone. This is what happens when Clark lets his heart get the better of his head.

On the other hand: fuck the shit beetle.

He really hopes he doesn't end up tortured by an unstable god for the rest of his life. The Admiral better know what he's doing.

"Lenny, David," Clark greets, neutrally. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

They sit down, Lenny making herself very comfortable by putting her feet up on his desk. "David and I were talking just now, and you know what he told me? He said he didn't know if Division 3 was paying him for his job."

"I wouldn’t call David an active employee," Clark replies.

"But you would call him an employee," Lenny says. "Now, I was gonna take care of this myself, be the hero bringing the Davids a big fat check. But I thought, why should I take that away from them? So we're gonna do this together. Right, Davids?"

"Um, yes?" David says, clearly entirely at a loss.

"If this is about David's paycheck—" Clark begins.

"Yeah, let’s see that paycheck," Lenny asks. "You know, the one the Davids earned for the two weeks they spent risking their lives to stop an evil god that no one else can stop?"

"An evil god he spent most of those two weeks conspiring with," Clark points out. "So no, there is no paycheck waiting for him. He's a patient and a prisoner."

David visibly wilts, but Clark tells himself to hold strong. This is a matter of principal. David betrayed Division 3, lied to his face countless times. Clark's put aside a lot for his job, but he has his limits.

"Nice story," Lenny says, undeterred. "But no. Let's start from the beginning. David, did you agree to become an employee of Division 3?"

"Um, we talked about it," David says. "Clark and I agreed to work together to stop Farouk."

"A verbal agreement," Clark admits. "Not binding. David disappeared before he could sign on."

"You know, this mainframe thing is really great," Lenny says. "I was never really into, like, learning shit before, but it's all right here. All I have to do is think a question and bam, there's the answer. I just thought, is a verbal agreement a binding contract? And you know what? Turns out it is."

Clark definitely hates the fact that Lenny is in the mainframe. "Fine. But David broke that contract when he failed to perform his duties and acted in bad faith."

Lenny takes her feet down and leans forward. "You hired them to find Farouk and his body and deliver both of them to Division 3, dead or alive. I'm sorry, how did they fail to perform that? They're not the ones who couldn't hold a prisoner for twenty-four hours."

"David abused our resources and allowed Farouk to enter our facility, kill my men, and steal a dangerous weapon."

"Lenny, maybe this was a bad idea," David says, in a low voice, as if Clark can't hear him.

"Watch and learn, kiddo," Lenny tells him. "Okay, and why did the Davids do all that? Because one of your employees gave them orders. D3’s military, right? The Davids had to follow orders. If they're shitty orders, that's not their fault."

"Future Syd isn't our employee," Clark says, unimpressed.

"Syd is," Lenny says. "So’s Cary."

"Division 3 isn't responsible for the actions of its employees in the future," Clark insists.

"Just like David isn't responsible for the actions of his future self?" Lenny says, and smirks. "Yeah, suck on that. What's good for the goose. You're gonna pay them what they're owed."

"Fine," Clark says, hiding his annoyance with a tight smile. "Two week's pay."

"And a year’s backpay," Lenny insists. "And let's talk about that salary."

Clark sighs and leans back. "Go on."

"I asked the mainframe, and wow, you're not paying any of my people what they're worth, so that's gonna change. And the Davids, they're worth a lot. You had a year and an international military force trying to stop Farouk and you couldn't even scratch him. Me and the Davids kicked his ass. How much did that operation cost before the Davids solved it? Oh wait, I'll ask the mainframe."

"All right," Clark says, surrendering. "You made your point."

"I'm not done yet," Lenny says, eagerly. "You're gonna draw up a new contract for the Davids and they're gonna be active employees. All three of them."

"David is a patient and a prisoner," Clark says again, because apparently that's not sinking in.

"They're our patients," Lenny allows. "And yeah, they're not allowed to leave, but that's so we can keep them safe. They haven't lost their rights as human beings and they sure as hell haven't lost their job. Division 3 is paying for their treatment because they got hurt doing that job. And then there’s the reparations."

"Reparations?" Clark asks, disbelieving.

"I'm sorry, was there another organization called Division 3 hunting mutant children and ripping families apart?"

Clark's ready to put an end to this performance. "You could have taken care of all of this with the Admiral."

"You'd think that," Lenny says, and her smile barely hides her anger now. "But you know what else I found out when I was kickin' around the mainframe? The Admiral might be the one giving the orders, but as far as the Divisions are concerned, he's property. That was the deal you gave that Walter guy, too. Do what we say and we won't kill you for being a mutant. That's not a job, that's slavery. You guys were pure evil before David and Melanie slapped some sense into you. I'm not gonna let you turn the Davids into your slaves. You're gonna treat them like they're human beings and you're gonna make this right."

David isn't a human being.

That's what Clark wants to say. That's what he said to Cary, that David wasn't a human being because he was a mutant. Mutants are threats to the security and safety of the world, threats pure and simple. It was Clark's job to hunt them down and evaluate them and then— Deal with them, one way or another, by whatever means necessary.

He wasn't part of Division 3 when they were hunting mutant children. But he's dealt with plenty of mutants one way or another. And he was fine with that. He slept well every night knowing he made the world safer. And now he alternates between nightmares about being burned alive, and nightmares where he's the one sitting in the pool.

Clark doesn't think of things in terms of good and evil. What matters is power and predictability. The world is a dangerous place and mutants only make it more dangerous, more unpredictable. It was about containment, at the start, then disarmament, then extermination. All very logical steps. But mutants keep being born, and more of them, all over the world. It's random and Clark doesn't like random. He doesn't like any of this.

Clark wants to make the world safe for his son. But he can't think about his son anymore without thinking of David. He wouldn't want his son to grow up in David's world, the world the Divisions made for mutants. That's why he's supporting Cary's plan for Division 4.

The Divisions agreed to work with the Summerlanders because they needed David to stop Farouk. They still need him for that. But what they need even more is a stable god that's on their side. They're going to need a god as powerful as David to help them control a world full of unpredictable gods. If mutations can't be cured, prevented, or eliminated— Then they need to be managed. So as much as Clark hates this, he's going to do his job. That's still his job, evaluating mutants, dealing with them one way or another and by whatever means necessary. It's just that he's learning to use the carrot instead of the stick.

"You're right," Clark says, calmly. "David, on behalf of Division 3, I'd like to apologize for our— Bureaucratic oversight."

Lenny snorts but doesn't interrupt.

"In terms of your employment and backpay, I'll have the paperwork brought to you. Do you have a bank account?"

"Um," David says, eyes wide. "I had a joint account with Amy, before— I don't—"

"We'll have that taken care of," Clark says, smoothly. "As for the reparations, that's above my pay grade. I'll see what I can do. But I'm confident the Divisions will want to make things right."

David looks between Lenny and Clark, then at the empty air. He looks absolutely stunned. "Wow. Um. Thank you?"

Clark smiles for him, tight-lipped but as earnest as he can muster. "Thank Lenny. She's right, you should be compensated for your service and for any mistreatment that you suffered because of Division 3's past actions."

Clark may have laid that on too thick because David is giving him a suspicious look in response. But David can't read Clark's mind, at least for now, so the suspicion fades. David looks at Lenny with outright awe. Lenny preens, soaking it up. Looks like she still got to be the hero.

"Now if you'll excuse me," Clark says, politely. "I believe we all have work to do."

A minute after they're gone, there's a polite knock on the door. It's Amy.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, despite having obviously waited until Lenny and David left. "We need your help with something."

"That's what I'm here for," Clark says. He's never had a problem with his salary, but he's thinking about asking for a raise himself, assuming they survive this. Or at least an enormous bonus.

"It's Syd," Amy sighs. "I've been keeping an eye on her. She's— She needs someone to talk to, and— We've all tried, but she won't open up to any of us."

"But she's talked to me," Clark says. "I'll see what I can do. Where is she?"

"She left the building," Amy says. "But we know where she went. Here's the address."

Clark takes the handwritten address. Amy can be charmingly analogue for a woman trapped in a computer with an android interface.

"Oh, I need something from you," Clark says. "David's checking account. He said he had one with you?"

"Yes," Amy says, and she doesn't need to ask why. "I'll get you the account number. I should have closed it years ago, but— It would have felt too much like giving up. I know you and David haven't always gotten along, but— You're a good person, Clark. Thank you."

"Just doing my job," Clark says.

§

Clark isn't surprised to find Syd in a bar. He's surprised that she managed to find one that's open at this hour of the morning and isn’t a total dive. But Syd is nothing if not determined in her self-destruction. Clark would be happy to leave her to it if not for the fact that right now she's a bigger threat to world security than David, because she's a threat to David.

Clark helped Ptonomy and Syd defuse the Amy bomb. Now Syd's the one who needs defusing. Syd’s tucked into the darkest corner she could find. Clark brings an empty glass from the bar, sits down with her, and pours himself a shot from her whiskey bottle. He raises his glass in a silent toast and then takes a sniff.

“I see you got the good stuff,” Clark says. He puts the glass back down without drinking.

“World’s gonna end,” Syd says, voice flat. “No point in saving for a rainy day. This is the rainy day.”

Clark looks at the window front. It’s bright and sunny outside. But he knows she didn’t mean it literally. “Or you could, I don’t know, maybe not help end the world?”

Syd doesn't respond to that. Clark sees why he was called in for this. She's locked down tight. Even Ptonomy isn't enough of a bastard to pry her open.

"You won't forgive him," Clark says, plainly. There's no point in hiding how much he knows. "If you're giving up, here are the options. We can put you in witness protection, try to disappear you, but that didn't work out so well for Amy and her husband. We can freeze you until it's safe, like we did Melanie, but again, Farouk could unfreeze you."

"And the third option?" Syd asks.

"Farouk would steal your soul as you died and use you like he used Lenny."

"So I don't have any options."

"Not those," Clark says. "As I told you before, your boyfriend is an extremely powerful mutant who could destroy the world if you hurt his feelings real bad."

"I didn't know what he was," Syd says, staring into her whiskey. "I didn't know what was in him."

"To be fair, neither did he," Clark says. "I'll give David credit. When he realized the truth, he tried to do the right thing. But that's not an option for him either. He's trying to defuse himself before Farouk figures out how to blow him up. If he can learn to live with himself, with his past, use his powers responsibly— Stability improves the odds."

"But love is still a weapon," Syd counters.

"Yes. And so is shame."

"I don't—" Syd starts, then stops. "I don't want to punish him."

"Apparently you do," Clark counters.

"Because I'm afraid of him?" Syd asks, finally meeting his eyes. "Because he's—" She doesn't finish.

Clark considers her. "David's an extreme outlier. But to be stable he needs to belong and your people are giving him that. Eventually he'll be stable enough to accept that he's— What was it you said? One of a kind. That's what gets me about you mutants. You're all one of a kind. That's made it very hard to kill you."

Syd straightens up.

"Honesty is important," Clark tells her. "So here's me being honest with you. The Divisions didn't play nice with you and Melanie because we had a change of heart about mutants. We played nice because we realized the future we've been trying to stop is already here. We could stick to the same tactics, double down on genocide. But it only takes one David to make every human weapon irrelevant. We're trying to avoid the end of the human race and Farouk isn't always the cause. In some timelines, we found David as a baby and we're the ones who made him into a bomb. Or at least that's what the Admiral says. He could be lying. He's been on our side for a long time, but he's a mutant. He knows all our secrets. Now there are other mutants in his head, learning the same secrets. What's that saying? One person can keep a secret but not two? How about four? What happens when those secrets lose the protection of the mainframe?"

Syd stares at him. "Are you going to—"

"No," Clark says. "We'll help them. But helping them has consequences. Helping David has consequences. Killing all of you would also have consequences. The odds say to let David and his friends live and help them. But we're trying to defuse the David bomb and there you are, hurting his feelings real bad."

"So I don't have a choice?" Syd says, stunned but still stubbornly defiant.

"You have a lot of choices," Clark says. "Make one you can live with."

Syd slumps, accepting defeat.

Clark judges the Syd bomb defused, at least for now. He knocks back his shot, savors the burn, then takes the bottle. It is the good stuff.

"Hey," Syd protests, reaching for it.

"You've had enough," Clark says. "Consider this a gift to me for helping you save the world. Walk it off, see a movie, play with puppies in the park. Then go back to that lab and do the work."

"I can't talk to him without hurting him."

"Then talk to the other Davids," Clark says. "Talk to your friends. You're your own worst enemy, Syd. Stop trusting your enemies more than your friends."

Syd glares at him, annoyed, but— She accepts the idea. Clark doesn't know if she’ll let it grow, but at least she has it.

Chapter 65: Day 10: He wants to be happy. (David)

Chapter Text

Matilda is very relaxing to touch.

She’s also more popular than ever. Ptonomy was taking a turn with her, petting her soft fur for sensory stimulation to treat his disembodiment, and now he’s handed her off to David to help him stay calm during their session. David focuses on Matilda’s rumbling purr and looks at Divad working with Cary, at Kerry and Amy helping Oliver with his embodiment exercises. Dvd is hanging back, watching everything with his usual suspicion, and Lenny is next to David on the sofa in case he needs a save.

Syd still hasn’t come back. But David’s trying not to think about Syd.

“I know you’re nervous about discussing your possession trauma,” Ptonomy says, in his calming therapist tone. “How about you start by telling me about your morning? It’s been busy for you.”

“You know me and my rough mornings,” David says, but that reminds him of Syd. “You know everything that happened.”

“I do,” Ptonomy says. “But the relay was off. It’s back now and you need to practice saying how you feel. So let’s practice. What’s on your mind?”

Syd, obviously, but— He really doesn’t want to talk about Syd. Which all experience tells him means he has to. Despite what Lenny said, therapy really is still torture.

"I talked to Syd," David starts, and forces himself on. "She told me that— She can't forgive me. And she told me— I've forgiven myself. For what I did."

"Was she right?"

"Yes," David grits out. "I honestly didn't— But she said, Syd said, forgiving ourselves is— Accepting our mistakes, learning from them, and moving on. And I'd done the first two but I wasn't letting myself move on because— I'm David's Haller's shame."

"You're not just your shame," Ptonomy reminds him.

"I know," David says. "But— Sometimes it's just so hard to feel anything else. And forgiving myself— It didn't— Syd said I should feel better but—"

"You feel what you feel," Ptonomy says. "Everybody's different. What do you feel when you think about forgiving yourself?"

"Awful," David admits. "Like I'm doing something wrong." He suddenly realizes he'd had a shame attack right in the middle of the conversation with Syd, but he hadn't been able to recognize it. "I had a shame attack." He looks to Lenny. "That's why you came over?"

"Dvd told us you were upset," Ptonomy says. "It's okay that you didn't recognize what was happening. It'll take practice to be able to experience those without being caught up in them. Do you remember what set it off?"

David thinks back. He was nervous just talking to Syd, but— He was holding it together until— "She asked if we could— She wanted to be therapy buddies but—" He feels angry again just thinking about it. "I know, I asked her, but— I thought—" He pets Matilda, breathes. "She said I was— Lying to myself, putting her in charge of my feelings, like— Like my feeling bad about hurting her hurts her. But if she hasn't forgiven me— Of course I feel bad about that! So I don't know what she wants."

"Maybe she doesn't either," Ptonomy suggests. "Maybe Syd's just as upset and hurt and confused as you."

"How am I supposed to know?" David asks, genuinely. "I can't hear what she's thinking anymore."

"You didn't know you heard her actual thoughts in Clockworks," Ptonomy counters.

"I didn't know," David agrees. "I heard— A lot of things that weren't real. But I heard the real things, too. I couldn't trust what I heard, but— I couldn't ignore it either. I heard all the awful things everyone thought about me. I heard how hopeless everyone thought I was. I heard how broken and disgusting and— I heard it, okay? And I heard—"

"What?" Ptonomy prompts, gently. "What did you hear?"

"When I got back, after the orb— I heard what everyone thought of me. Even Syd— She thought so many terrible things and— I know it's— God, I know how impossible it is to not think, but— If she'd just— Told me, maybe— I don't know. Maybe Farouk didn't need to do all of that just to hurt me because hearing everyone all the time was already torture."

Ptonomy gives him a considering look. "David— Are you saying you don't want your outside powers back?"

"No," David says, and then, "I don't know. After Farouk was gone— Sometimes there were these moments when I thought, this is quiet, this is— Real, actual quiet. But it wasn't." He points to the crown. "This is quiet. And— If I wasn't— None of this would have happened, right? Farouk wouldn't have— Melanie and Division 3 and— No one would care about David Haller. I wouldn't even be David Haller. Maybe I'd even be— Happy, normal, married in the suburbs with like, two point three kids."

"Maybe," Ptonomy allows. "But that's not what happened."

David sighs.

"What brought all this up?" Ptonomy asks.

David shrugs. "This whole thing, this— All the therapy and— I know it's to stop myself from being turned into— Something even worse than I already am. But— If it works, somehow, if— If one day Farouk is gone—" Say it aloud, say it aloud. "I tried, you know? I tried real life and— Syd wanted me to leave Clockworks with her. She wanted that but— I didn't. I wanted— Quiet. To live somewhere quiet, like I remember in my fake memories of having a life that actually contained quiet. But it's fake. This is the only real quiet I've ever known and— I actually— I thought, what if Cary can make a crown that doesn't hurt? What if he can do that? Maybe that's what I need, to just— Let myself be turned off. But I know it wouldn't matter because— Even if he could, I'm still— Quiet is a delusion that Farouk put in my head."

David slumps, entirely overwhelmed. He pulls Matilda close but that makes her squirm. She wriggles free and shakes herself, annoyed. David grabs a throw pillow and holds that instead.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering. "You're afraid. Not just of what might happen if this doesn't work, but of what might happen if it does. You're starting to hope, but hope— That comes with a lot of baggage. Even aside from Farouk, David— You had a very hard life. The life you remember. You were sick and the world can be very cruel when we're sick. And the worse you got, the worse you were treated, even by people you thought you could trust. This is a safe place for you and you don't want to leave it, just like you didn't want to leave Clockworks."

Yes, David thinks.

"David, we know that— Even if this works out, there are things that would make it very difficult for you to live on your own. We've known that from the start, from the moment we brought you to Summerland. We failed you before but we're making up for it now. You're not going to live your life as nothing but a patient, but you do need a supportive environment. And so do we. So we're going to make one and bring you there with us."

David looks at Ptonomy, and the hope he feels—

"Getting better doesn't mean being left on your own. Getting better means staying with us and being healthy enough to give back. And I know those are things you want to do."

David nods. He does want those things. He wants to stay and he wants to be able to give back. They're not in his mantra or his foundation but those ideas feel just as essential.

"How about you write them down anyway?" Ptonomy suggests. "If your foundation is your identity and your mantra is what helps you through the tough times— How about something that helps you build your future?"

David reflexively rejects that, even though he wants it. "That's a bad idea. I can't— Hope for things."

"You couldn't before," Ptonomy agrees. "But this time is different, remember? We're making it different. Farouk isn't inside you anymore and he's not getting back in, he's not going to use you."

"You can't promise that," David tells him. "Every time you say it—" David tries very hard not to think about the fact that he's still Farouk's obsession, that he always will be, that no matter how hard he fights he always loses. That Farouk is in this building and watching him right now. When he thinks about all that—

"I know," Lenny says. "It's fucking terrifying and believe me, if anyone gets that, it's me. But the only way out is through. We're getting through this together. We got through Clockworks, we can get through this. One step at a time, okay?"

David meets Lenny's eyes, and— Maybe they're not really her eyes, but he sees her in them and he knows she wouldn't lie to him about this, he knows she wouldn't. Lenny wouldn't have gone to bat for him against Division 3 and said all that stuff about contracts and backpay if she didn't think there was hope for him. He's always trusted Lenny so much, or— That's what he remembers. But that's what she remembers, too.

The terror recedes. It's never gone but at least it goes down to something manageable.

"There ya go," Lenny says, proudly. "Now come on, open that notebook. I just got you a barrel full of cabbage, there's gotta be something you want to spend it on."

"I don't know," David says. "I've never— Money's never really been—" Doctors, medication— They were expensive. So was school, especially after he lost his scholarship. If he hadn't been expelled, if he'd— And then the drugs— His whole sense of— Expectations or hope were just— He put a cord around his neck and stepped off a chair, wanting wasn't something he did, except wanting to make everything stop. Clockworks didn't make that any better, and since then— He's just been trying to figure out which way is up.

"Yeah," Lenny agrees. "But we got you right-side up. You got a few bucks coming. If you wanna buy, like, a boring farm in the middle of nowhere, you could do that. Or you could actually buy something fun. I dunno, start small, buy a fucking chocolate bar. Buy a new shirt, your clothes are older than Kerry. Work your way up to a tropical vacation and a red convertible. It's early for your mid-life crisis but fuck that, you earned it."

David huffs a laugh. "Yeah, okay, maybe—" He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "I'll write down what Ptonomy said. And the chocolate bar." Wanting a chocolate bar should be fairly harmless. And maybe— He did see some nice outfits in the fashion magazines.

"And the tropical vacation," Lenny insists.

David shakes his head but grabs the notebook and opens it to a new page. What should he even call this? It feels absurdly arrogant to— Declare what he wants. It's beyond tempting fate, it's painting himself red and dancing in front of an angry bull.

But— Farouk already knows what he wants. He lived in his head and knows David better than he knows himself. So— it doesn't really make a difference to Farouk.

That's—

Wow. Okay. That's— That's what all of this is. Farouk already knows every thought that's ever flitted through David's mind. He knows what's flitting through it now. And that's horrible, that's really— But— It means saying it, writing it down— That doesn't tell Farouk anything. It only tells David. And David— Wants to know what he wants. It's like— a wish list for Chanukah. He and Amy waited for the last night to open all their presents at once in a frenzy of torn wrapping paper. Or at least that's what he remembers.

He writes 'Wish List' and underlines it. Then beneath that, he writes 'Stay with my friends' and 'Give back to the world'. Then he adds 'Lenny's chocolate bar' and 'New clothes' and then, in a fit of abandon, 'A tropical vacation.'

Looking at the list makes him feel— Amazing and awful all at once. He shouldn't want things, he absolutely shouldn't. He feels that deeply. But— He really wants to want things. He wants to— Share a chocolate bar with Lenny. Go clothes shopping with Kerry. Take everyone on a tropical vacation and just— Be happy. He wants to be happy.

'Be happy,' he writes, and that's— Truly an absurd thing to ask for, he knows that. But he wrote it down anyway and he's not going to take it back.

"I'm going to be tortured for the rest of my life," he says, staring at the list. "I'm going to end the world. I'm going to stay with my friends and give back to the world." They all feel— Not equally possible, but at least they all feel possible. And terrifying. They all definitely feel terrifying.

"Hey, I demand to be less terrifying than the shit beetle," Lenny says, then considers that. "Actually— I demand to be more terrifying than the shit beetle."

"Lenny the Terrible," David jokes. "Like, with one of those big Russian beards?"

"And a furry hat," Lenny says. "Gotta have the furry hat. You know that's gonna get me laid. All the girls wanna pet my fur."

David laughs at that, actually laughs.

"See, you're happy already," Lenny says, elbowing him. "You've got some of that stuff now. Still gotta work on that tropical vacation, but—"

David looks at the list again. He looks around the room. She's right. "You're a really good cruise director, Lenny."

"You bet I am," Lenny declares.

"She is," Ptonomy agrees. "And David, that was really good work with that list. You've come a long way to be able to do that. So let's keep going."

"Right," David says, then looks to Ptonomy expectantly.

"Your outside powers," Ptonomy reminds him. "The best person to help with that is Oliver. I know he's not in great shape himself right now, but we're working on it and Cary's confident he'll improve. Helping you will help him, and the more he remembers, the more he'll be able to remember. So spend some time with him, see if you can jog his memory. You will get the crown off, and when that happens, I don't want that to set you back."

"Okay," David accepts.

"And as for you and Syd— I'm glad you forgave yourself and that she was able to help you realize that. She's right that your forgiveness and hers are two separate things. But of course it hurts that she hasn't forgiven you. It's natural to feel bad about that. Even if you've forgiven yourself, it's natural to feel bad about what you did. That will help you avoid doing it again. But you need to recognize when your shame starts to overwhelm you. I know it's hard, but those are the moments you need to try to give yourself love. How about you tell me about something that happened today that made you feel love?"

David doesn't have to think hard to find an answer. He glances up at the workout area where Kerry is. "Um. When Kerry said— The relay made her feel like we're one big system. That was—" He tightens his hold on the pillow again, but not out of fear.

"It meant a lot to you," Ptonomy says, gently. "Her acceptance?"

David nods. "She's— Everyone has been— I don't mean to—"

"It's okay," Ptonomy soothes. "Just say how you feel."

"Safe," David says, without hesitation. "I know she can't— Not— Physically safe. But—" He gives Lenny a crooked smile. "She's like you were. In Clockworks, how it was— Getting this far— I couldn't have done it without her. And now—" His smile fades. "My thoughts are— They can be really— I don't want her to— And if they're too much, of course Oliver shouldn't relay to her, but— That she even wants to hear— Not because she has to, or—" He rubs at his eyes. "Sorry, I don't know why it's—"

"I can't think of anything more intimate than sharing my thoughts with another person," Ptonomy says. "I'm sorry we had to take that choice away from you to help you."

"You had to," David accepts. "It was— It's still really hard to— It's better now, but—" The shame and fear. They’re like a cord tied around his throat, and sometimes it pulls so tight even his thoughts can't escape. The tighter it gets the more it takes from him, and it's taken so much. But now he has Lenny and Kerry and Amy and all his friends and enough love that he can actually— Breathe. Speak. Hope. Want things. Learn and get better and— See the things he already has. Maybe the cord will never go away, but— Love keeps it loose.

"I'm really glad to hear that," Ptonomy says, warmly. "We know what helps you, what makes you strong. Love makes you strong, David. That love you feel is what makes you strong enough to face your trauma and let us help you through it. That love is going to help you heal your system. Not all by yourself, but with your brothers, one step at a time, just like you're doing with us, just like you did with Lenny. You and Kerry share a system, you and your brothers share a system, we all share a system, and we're all going to make our systems strong. How does that sound?"

It sounds— God, it sounds— Terrifying, but— In a really good way.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So let's talk about how you're going to help your brothers. We're trying to help them see that we're their friends, just like we're your friends, but it's hard for them to trust. When you forgot them, you found new people to share your life with, but they couldn't. They were trapped inside you and even with the relay, they're still trapped."

"I know," David says. "I don't want them to be."

"Of course you don't," Ptonomy says. "You have a lot of compassion for them. You have a lot of love you want to share with them. They've been trying to allow themselves to accept it, just like you did with our love, but they need your help. They've spent their whole lives helping you and now they need you to help them. Are you ready to do that?"

"Yes," David says, firmly.

"Good. It's not going to be easy, for you or for them. But we'll get there as long as we do it together. You already know the pieces we need to work on. You need to share your system's body. You need to allow them to be with you so you can sleep together. I'd like for you to start that tonight if you can."

"Tonight?" David asks, wavering. That's— That's awfully soon.

"There are ways we can do this to make it easier for you," Ptonomy soothes. "But nothing is going to happen without your consent. This won't help anyone if you're unable to sleep or if you wake up scared. And before you can ask, no, they can't sleep instead of you."

David makes a face, because that was absolutely going to be his suggestion. "Okay," he accepts. "So— We need to make enough progress on my— Possession trauma for that."

"That's the goal," Ptonomy says. "That would be a full day for you already, but we also want your brothers to have time in your system's body. I'd like for them to each have their sessions with me while embodied, and then spend time with all of us. I don't want anyone running off to lick their wounds alone. I also don't want you to feel overwhelmed by all of this while you're disembodied. All three times you were triggered to go away, you were detached from your body in some way. The only time you stayed was when Dvd got you back to your body fast enough for us to help you. If it happens again, your brothers will get you back in your body so we can help you."

David leans back. "This is already a lot."

"We know," Ptonomy says. "But that's why we're going over it now. And I want you to tell me: do you feel like it would be easier for you to help your brothers first, or to work on your possession trauma first?"

"Help them first," David says. He's feeling strong right now, he feels like he can really be there for them. "But— If the goal is for us to share our body tonight— Maybe it would be better to give me more time to recover?"

"That's a good idea," Ptonomy says. "How about— We do the possession work first, then make sure you're okay before you step out. Then you helping your brothers could help you feel better. I know you like helping. And remember, just like Kerry and the relay, this isn't all or nothing. You can always tell us that you need a break. I know that's hard for you, but if you don't tell us, we might lose you again. If that cord starts pulling tight, send up a flare so we can loosen it, okay?"

"Okay," David says. He doesn't want to— Go into a dissociative fugue again. That it keeps happening is— Upsetting enough on its own. It makes him feel so— Out of control.

"When you started doing that, it was the only escape you had," Ptonomy says. "You literally had no other way to survive what was happening to you. But now all that does is isolate you from everything that can truly help you get better. That's what bad coping mechanisms do. They help you survive but then they get in the way of living. Your shame does that, too. So does Dvd's anger and Divad's need to control. That was how the three of you survived, but you're more than the ways you survived. You know that. You're love. Dvd and Divad are love, too. It's up to us to help them see that, the way we helped you."

David looks at his brothers. Dvd has his eyes fixed away from David, but David knows he's been listening. Divad is the same. They can't not hear him. Maybe that's been a burden for them for a long time, but— That means they can't not hear his love, too.

He knows— Last time, he tried too hard. He just wanted them all to be better. But healing takes time and work, and the hardest part is the beginning. He's ready to help them now, not just for their system's sake but for their sake. Because they deserve to love and be loved, just like he does.

He deserves love. He doesn't just— Not deserve what was done to him. He deserves love. They deserve love. It feels— Amazing to be able to think that. To have the cord that loose around his neck that he can think that. He wishes he could cut it away for good. Maybe one day he can. It's just going to take— A lot of work and a lot of love and probably a lot of time.

David wants them to have that time. He wants them to heal together, to share the way they're meant to. He truly wants that. But first he has to heal himself.

"Okay," he says, ready. "Let's do this."

Chapter 66: Day 10: David deserves to be saved. (David)

Chapter Text

"I'd like to take us back to a week ago," Ptonomy begins. "The two of us were sitting together, just like this, down in the cell. Some things happened that upset you. The first was when we talked about when you went to save Amy from Division 3. The second was when Divad took charge of your system's body without permission."

"I remember," David says. Upset is— A generous way to put it.

"Just now, when I mentioned Divad and Dvd sharing your system's body with you tonight. That upset you, too."

David grips at the pillow he's holding. "Yes," he admits.

"What happens when you think about sharing your system's body? How does it feel? What do you think about?"

David's been trying to not think about that at all. But— It's not good for Divad and Dvd to be mental projections all the time. It's not fair to them. It isn't his body, it's theirs. Their system's body. They're a system. He's part of that system. The idea that it's his and his alone— That was just another of Farouk's delusions, like quiet.

"That's a hard idea for you to accept," Ptonomy says.

Hard is also a generous way to put it.

"Farouk put a lot of bad ideas into you," Ptonomy says. "You had no way to defend yourself against them, and they've been growing in you for a long time. It's harder to get rid of an old idea than it is to accept a new one. It's even harder when you're trying to swap a bad idea for a good one. That bad idea about your body, that parasite, it doesn't want to let go of you. It doesn't want to lose its territory. It'll do everything it can to kill the good idea before it can grow and take over. So we can't let it hide. We have to get a good hard look at it so we can figure out how to get it out of you without hurting you. Right?"

"Right," David says, but— He's afraid. When he tries to think about all of that— All he can think about is the fear. Like the scars Farouk left behind, it's just— Fear.

"So let's talk about the fear," Ptonomy says. "Fear is a defense mechanism. We get afraid because we sense a threat, because we're vulnerable. We curl up, trying to protect the parts of us that keep us alive. Just like you're doing now."

David reflexively straightens, self-conscious.

Ptonomy smiles. "And now you're defending yourself against your vulnerability itself being exposed."

"Very funny," David grouches. "Yes, I'm afraid."

"Divad and Dvd are parts of you," Ptonomy says, sobering. "They've been dedicated to protecting you and your system's body your whole life. You're relying on their protection now, guarding your mind and body so Farouk can't get back in. So you rely on them, you trust them."

"I have to trust them," David admits.

"True, but that trust has been earned. Divad and Dvd have proved that, even if they've made mistakes, they have your best interests at heart. They still remember how your system works and they fully accept you as a part of it, no matter what you remember. They've been respectful of your wishes and given you space to heal. And you've returned that trust and respect, allowing them to have time in your system's body so they can heal, too."

David relaxes, thinking of that. "Yes," he agrees. "They've been— I know it's been hard for them, all this, and—" Looking back, understanding the truth about what he is, what they are— They tried so hard to ease him back to the truth. Only appearing as voices at first, and then bringing him to their bedroom to try to help when everything went wrong. And since then, they've been trying their best to only tell him as much as he can handle. "They must know me very well. Who I was."

"You were very close," Ptonomy agrees. "There's a DID term for the way your system works. Co-conscious. Some DID identities only alternate, they don't share their body at the same time. Co-conscious identities share, ideally in what's called healthy multiplicity. That's actually the goal of modern DID therapy: a functional co-relationship with shared responsibility and accountability."

"Healthy multiplicity," David echoes.

"Most systems don't have the option of projection," Ptonomy continues. "So they have to work out how to share their body together. Usually one identity 'fronts' at a time, while the others hang back or go into their inner world. That's how Cary and Kerry work when they're not using physical projection. Your system uses the term 'in charge' for that. Most of the time, you've been in charge and Divad and Dvd hung back, took care of things on the inside. But they've been in charge too, and the three of you are even capable of all being in charge together."

"We are?" David asks. That's the first he's heard of it.

"Dvd and Divad have shared your body together," Ptonomy says. "While you were away. It seems to be very comforting for them. They're not used to being apart like this, as physically separate individuals. When you're spending time with them, you should ask them about it. When you're able to share with them, you can practice, see how it feels for you."

David considers that. It all sounds very— Manageable. But Ptonomy's good at making things manageable. That's how they've gotten this far.

He tries to imagine sharing that way. Not— Losing control of himself, having control taken away from him by force. Something— Mutual. Cooperative. Healthy. Kerry would probably call it nutritious.

"Okay," David says. "I'll ask them." That's a relief, too. Having a safe topic to talk to them about. Everything about their past is so fraught. David hates having to ask them to remember, and finding out how awful his old life was hasn't been great for him either. Maybe if they focus on how they work now, on learning how to be a healthy multiplicity, that will help them build their new system.

"Now that is a good idea," Ptonomy says, approving. "I think that will be extremely nutritious for all three of you." He smiles at that. "But you can't practice until you're able to allow them to share with you. So let's go back to where we left off. What happens when you think about sharing your system's body? How does it feel? What do you think about?"

There's less fear in the way now. "I think about— What happened at Summerland."

"Last year," Ptonomy says. "But that wasn't last year for you. It was, what, a month ago? That's not a lot of time, and you haven't had any real chance to process what happened. It's not surprising that those feelings are still so raw for you."

David nods. Raw is definitely the right word for how he feels about all of that.

"So let's get you processing," Ptonomy says, like it's as simple as that.

And maybe it is. Maybe all of this— Possession trauma. He just hasn't processed it. Between Oliver finding him on the astral plane and David waking up with a crown on his head in Division 3's cell, he didn't have time to catch his breath, much less process— Anything that happened to him.

"So where do you want to start?" Ptonomy prompts. "Farouk's attack on Division 3? That seems to be a flashpoint for you."

"It is," David admits. "But— It's all— Tangled up." He looks at Lenny and has to look away.

"I know," Lenny says, understanding. "He used me to hurt you."

"I didn't know what you were," David admits. "When I was in Syd and— Everything happened, I saw— Your body. In the wall. And then— In Amy's basement, I thought—" He shifts, struggling. "I saw things all the time, things that weren't real. But sometimes I didn't think real things were real. And you were real, sort of. Mostly?" He sighs. "And it's— That's the thing, because that was always him, doing that to me. Tricking me, making me confused, making me— Crazy. And you know, I accepted it? I accepted that I was schizophrenic. I let that idea become— Such a part of me. And now I know that it was his idea. That I never believed I was schizophrenic until he—" He points at his head, their head. His head. Their head. "Put the idea into me. Took out and put in whatever he wanted. Made me— Made me. As a— A person. As David. He made me. I'm just— One of his sunrises."

It makes him sick, thinking about that. It makes him want to claw off his own skin. Forget about sharing with Divad and Dvd. He doesn't even want to share with himself.

"Okay," Ptonomy soothes. "That's pretty tangled. So let's take a moment and then start untangling."

David does some breathing. Untangling sounds— Manageable.

"What do you think about making another list?" Ptonomy asks. "You can write down the different parts of this, cross them off as we go."

"No," David says, reflexively. "I don't— I don't want that in my notebook." It's bad enough that he feels like he's— Contaminated, physically and mentally— His notebook is his new self. He doesn't want this anywhere near it.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "That's fair. How about you use something else to write it? Something completely separate? Not even another notebook. How about— Printer paper?"

David considers that. "Yeah, okay.”

"Lenny, could you?" Ptonomy asks.

Lenny leaves and brings back a clipboard with several plain white sheets and a pen. "Here ya go. And a new pen, so that's separate, too."

David isn't sure if she's mocking him, but then he looks up and sees that she very much isn't. Of course. If anyone understands what he's feeling right now, it's Lenny. Even if it's hard to look at her when he thinks about this— He's incredibly glad she's here.

She even picked a pen that's different than the ones Cary has been giving him. Lenny is the absolute best cruise director ever.

Lenny smiles at that. "Yeah, yeah."

"It sounds like this is going to have to cover everything you remember and know about Farouk's possession of you," Ptonomy says. "That's a lot. But we're not going to do it all at once. We'll make a list, and as new things come up, we'll add them to the list and deal with them when you're ready. Okay?"

"Okay," David says. A list needs a name. He wonders what he should name this one. 'FUCK THE SHIT BEETLE,' he writes, in large block letters, and underlines it firmly.

"Nice," Lenny says, approving. "Just think how good it's gonna feel to start crossing off the shit he did to you. Fuck the shit beetle."

"Fuck the shit beetle," David agrees. He's going to process the hell out of this list so he can crumple it up and shove it down Farouk's throat and make him choke on it.

"Now that's motivation," Ptonomy says. "Let's get started. Write down everything we just talked about."

Even those few things feel enormous. But they’re just untangling, he doesn’t have to think about them beyond just— Naming them. He’s only naming. He can do this.

Made him schizophrenic, David lists. Lived inside him and— Fed on him. Took him over and made him hurt people. Made him forget and— Sculpted him.

The last one makes his stomach turn. All of it makes his stomach turn. God, his whole life is a lie and he was— He was just— food. Prey. His whole life. He tastes bile at the back of his throat. He thinks he might actually—

He makes it to the sink just in time.

He leans over the counter, his stomach hurting, mouth full of acid. Ptonomy hands him a cup of water, and David washes out. So much for motivated processing. And his cherry pie.

“That didn’t get very far,” David says, weakly.

“First steps are always the hardest,” Ptonomy says. “You’ve been suppressing all of this for a reason, David. The four things on that list represent an incredible amount of pain. And I know that’s just scratching the surface.”

David whimpers.

“No breaking David,” Lenny warns, displeased.

“We’re going slow,” Ptonomy says. “But we have to keep going. We need to break those big traumas down into pieces David can manage.”

Right now David doesn’t feel like he can manage any trauma. God, how did he think he was going to do all this and help his brothers and share their body?

“You got a little maxed out,” Lenny soothes. “The cruise ship Mental Health hit some waves and you revisited your breakfast.”

That drags a dry laugh out of David. “Revisited my breakfast?”

“Painted the town red? Prayed to the porcelain god? Do sinks count for that?”

“It is porcelain,” Ptonomy says.

“Oh god, you’re both at it,” David moans. Lenny and Ptonomy are rubbing off on each other, and the world trembles.

“Hear that?” Ptonomy says. “We got the world shakin’ in its boots.”

“It better shake,” Lenny says, menacingly.

David isn’t sure what he did in a past life to deserve them. Maybe he built an orphanage. Or he set one on fire.

Lenny snorts. “Done being seasick? Come on, back to work.”

David trudges back. He wraps himself in the blanket and claims a loveseat. It feels safer, somehow. He grabs the throw pillow, too. He doesn’t care how ridiculous he looks, he has no dignity left and he needs every soothing thing he can get his hands on to get through this.

Lenny sits down next to him and picks up the clipboard. She considers the list. Then she crosses out ‘Made me schizophrenic.’

“Hey!” David protests. He reaches for the clipboard but Lenny holds it out of reach.

“Are you schizophrenic now?” Lenny challenges.

“No, but—“

“Does him making you schizophrenic have anything to do with sharing with your brothers?”

David thinks about that. “No, but it’s— I still need to talk about it.” He wants to talk about it. He wants to be able to cross it off his list himself.

“I’m not stopping you,” Lenny says. “But it’s gonna have to wait.”

“Lenny’s right,” Ptonomy says, sitting down on the sofa. “Our priority today is what affects your system, not just you. If there’s something we can set aside for later, we should. There’s still plenty to get through.”

David huffs. "Fine. But give me back my list."

Lenny hands it back. David pointedly writes the schizophrenic line over again at the bottom of the list so he can cross it off himself later. He hasn't even remotely finished processing that.

He looks at the other items. Okay, they're— They're definitely relevant. He feels queasy again but he breathes through it.

"Let's start breaking these down," Ptonomy says. "Pick one and we'll talk about it."

David tries. He can't.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, and visibly thinks. "When we put you under for the last memory session, you still had no idea what was happening to you. Then when you came back from the astral plane, suddenly you were different. You had no trouble controlling your powers. You were confident, arrogant. Farouk was in control."

David nods.

"You woke up on the astral plane and Oliver found you," Ptonomy continues. "He told you about the monster? Tried to help you?"

"Yeah," David says. "Um. He said— I didn't know about it because— The monster made me forget. But I didn't— Amy was— I had to get back to Syd."

"You were avoiding what upset you by putting your attention somewhere safer," Ptonomy counters. "That's one of your thought patterns. It's part of your dissociation. But running away from your problems doesn't get rid of them. Not thinking about the monster didn't make it go away."

"I know," David sighs. "I know. It's just—" It's too much, and when things are too much— He just— Needs to think about something that isn't.

"You know that makes you vulnerable," Ptonomy says. "When something upsets you, you need to be able to focus on it, deal with it directly. That's a skill you can learn that will help you deal with difficult situations. Do you think things might have gone differently if you'd stayed and listened to Oliver?"

"I don't know," David says, and he really doesn't. "Oliver was really— Detached, I guess. It's not like I felt safe with him either. He was just— A really strange guy in an ice cube. Sorry, Oliver."

'Apology accepted,' thinks Oliver's voice in his head.

David's so used to not hearing anything now that it startles him to hear someone else think again. Hearing everyone all the time again is going to be— A lot. And that's beside the fact that he has to deal with what they're actually thinking about. He really does need to talk to Oliver about that.

'When you're free,' Oliver thinks. 'Don't let me distract you.'

David doesn't know what's a distraction anymore. He has so many issues to deal with that no matter where he turns, there's no escape.

"So make the choice yourself," Lenny says. "Pick what you want to focus on and focus on it. Don't let it sneak off. Pin it down and take it apart."

Pin it down and take it apart. He thinks of— His advisor in college had one of those display cases with pinned bugs inside it. Beetles. Bright, shiny bugs, some with vivid coloring and some with horns. David used to look at it when his advisor was despairing over David's disastrous grades, warning him that he was going to lose his scholarship, telling him he needed to focus on his studies. David tried, but— He didn't understand the classes anymore. Because— He never understood them. Divad was the one who understood them.

It hits him, suddenly, what all of that means. All the things he remembers about— Choosing a college, choosing a major, going to classes and learning, wanting to make something of himself, to go to med school and help people. Those aren't his memories. They're Divad's memories, copied and changed and given to him by Farouk. That's all part of the sunrise. Farouk couldn't just use David's own memories because— He didn't have any of his own, none that were usable. Because he was hanging back. He was just a passenger.

That was years. He was a passenger for years. He wasn't— Having a healthy multiplicity, not then. There was nothing healthy about him at all. He was just— Someone they carried around. And all the things he remembers doing with Amy, her helping him with his tests, his applications, his essays, helping him move, talking to him on the phone, that entire section of what he thought was his life—

It wasn't his life at all. It was Divad's life.

He's vaguely aware of the sound of the pen and clipboard hitting the floor.

"Shit," Lenny says. She snaps her fingers. "David, stay with us. Don't you dare break my streak."

"I'm— I'm okay," David says, though he has no idea if he is. He's just— It was one thing to have fake versions of his own memories. But there's a whole chunk of his life where he remembers being someone else. It's just that that someone— Was another part of him, covering for him, pretending to be David Haller. That's— Does he have Dvd's memories, too? Who even is he? Did— Did Farouk—

Focus. Pin it down and take it apart.

Farouk couldn't force the pieces of David Haller back together. David was— Too broken for his brothers to fix. But Divad and Dvd aren't real to Farouk, they weren't what he wanted even though they're also parts of David Haller. So Farouk figured out a way to fix David. He took the David identity and gave him a new set of memories. He left out the childhood trauma because he had to. He used Divad's memories because he had to, to give David— Continuity. To fill in the huge stretch of time that he spent doing nothing, trapped inside his own body by his brokenness.

Farouk's sunrise wasn't just— Random evil torture. It was him trying to make David— Whole. And he did, in a twisted, monstrous way. Like how giving Lenny a body made out of Amy made her his idea of whole. Farouk doesn't start from scratch. So David— The David he was then, the David he is now— His memories are different, but he's still the same person. Farouk didn't make a new David. He fixed David so he could keep playing with him, keep torturing him.

Farouk didn't just want to keep him alive in the desert. Farouk has wanted to keep him alive for a long, long time. David has to be the same David.

"I'm David," he says, aloud. "I'm really— David."

"Told you," Dvd says, and David looks up to see both Divad and Dvd standing there.

"I remember being you," David says to Divad. "For years."

"He had to use mine," Divad admits. "Your real memories wouldn't have made sense without us and the monster and— All of it. He did what we couldn't. He fixed you."

"So he could break me again," David says, and that's what happened. Farouk made David whole and then broke him, a little at a time, until— Clockworks. And then Lenny and Syd and Summerland built him back up again, and Farouk played until David broke. And now—

And now.

"Yeah," Dvd says, utterly serious. "I don't care what promises these people make. He's letting them heal you because that's what he wants. He wants to crawl back into our head. Well, he's not getting past me."

"And he's not getting past me," Divad says.

"So that just leaves— Me," David realizes. If Farouk's going to get back inside them— He's going to have to trick his way in, and he knows everything about David, everything. He's not just obsessed with David. He's obsessed with manipulating David, tricking him, putting ideas into him. And now Farouk wants to put a truly monstrous idea into David: himself.

"That's why you gotta get strong," Lenny says. "We gotta make your mind strong so he can't use you, make your whole system strong so he can't break it. You can beat him and you'll know it when you bust through everything that's holding you back."

"You need me to stop him," David realizes. "Again."

"Yeah," Lenny says. "Sorry, man. I told them to just put you somewhere quiet and green."

"Farouk's going to keep hurting you for the rest of your life unless you make the pain stop," Ptonomy says. "That's true about your trauma and unfortunately it's also true about the trauma he wants to inflict on you. We're doing everything we can to keep you safe, to solve this without you, but the odds say we can't solve this without you."

"But Farouk knows," David says, confused. "You said it so he knows."

"He already knows," Ptonomy says. "I told him we weren't going to hurt you for him anymore. But he still needs us to fix you. If that's what he's going to allow us to do, then we're going to put everything we have into it. And that's what you have to do, too. David— He has your memories. He's going to use them. We don't know how, but— He may already be using them. Whatever the next game is, it’s already started."

"It's another race," David realizes, his heart sinking.

"I didn't want it to be," Ptonomy says, regretful. "But yes, it is. But it's not for Farouk's body. It's for you. Your body, your mind, your powers. You're the prize he wants to win. And after losing you twice, I don't think he's going to hold anything back. He got control of you and lost it. He's not going to want to be a passenger again."

All this time, David thought— He didn't know what he thought. He just didn't want to think about Farouk at all, didn't want to think about being forced to end the world. But that was just him being— Stuck in his trauma. Maybe Farouk still wants to end the world, maybe he doesn't. But all this therapy, it isn't about what makes David suicidal and unstable enough to explode, not anymore. It's about what makes him vulnerable enough to be used. It's about finding all the bad ideas growing inside him and getting them out before Farouk can use them to crawl back in.

"And we have to make your relationships strong, too," Ptonomy says. "Divad and Dvd might be able to protect your body, but their minds are as vulnerable as yours. Your relationships with each other need to be strong. All of our relationships need to be strong. He's used all of us against you, David. He'll try to do it again."

David looks around the room. Everyone is watching him. Amy and Kerry and Oliver, Cary and Dvd and Divad, Lenny and Ptonomy.

And Syd. But Syd isn't here.

"He'll use Syd, too," David realizes, his heart sinking even further. Maybe down to his shoes.

"He'll try," Ptonomy says.

If any of his relationships feels insurmountably broken, it's his relationship with Syd. She can't forgive him. What's left of their relationship to save? Farouk covered them with gasoline in the desert, and David set them on fire. It's just— Ashes, now.

"So make a new relationship with her," Ptonomy says. "Just like you're doing with your brothers. Just like you've done with all of us. Maybe you can't be lovers again, but you can still be friends. You don't even have to be that. But you have to make some kind of peace with each other. You forgave yourself, David. You have to forgive her."

"Forgive her?" David asks. "No, I— She's the one who won't forgive me."

"Then why do you freak out every time you talk to her?" Lenny asks.

No, that’s— That’s not—

David looks around. Surely there's someone—

But everyone in the room has been studying him closely for over a week. They can hear his thoughts and they don't dissociate from them the way he does. This is— He thought— He thought he forgave Syd, but he forgave himself? And he keeps thinking Syd doesn't want to talk to him, but he doesn't want to talk to her? All this time—

"I really have to stop dissociating," David groans.

"You can't," Ptonomy says. "But there are ways to manage it. And you can trust your brothers to help you. That's what they've always done. You've always dissociated, no matter what memories you had. That's how your system exists. When it's too much for you, they take over. That's classic DID. I know all of this is a lot for you, but we're telling you because Divad and Dvd believe you're ready for it. We're trusting their judgement. Trust them to help you like they always have."

David looks at Divad and Dvd. They've always protected him, because he's always been David. And they thought— That was how it had to be, because they thought he was the original, just like Farouk. But he's an identity just like they are. They're all parts of David Haller, they're all Davids. So it's not their job to protect him. It's their job to protect each other, all three of them.

But— David tried to be a hero before, and— Being the hero, that's just another one of Farouk's ideas. Farouk even told him to be a hero in his dream. He wants David to fight back, he wants to use him to play out another round of his twisted hero-villain fantasy.

"Playing the hero," Ptonomy corrects. "You told me that Farouk told you to play the hero. But there's a big difference between playing a hero and being one. Playing the hero? That's you looking to prove yourself, to earn love because you can't love yourself. But being a hero means doing the right thing for other people. It means genuinely engaging with them and giving them the help they need, not the help you want to give. Playing the hero is where you went wrong before. But being a hero is what you're doing here."

"I haven't done anything," David protests.

"We talked about this before, but I know you need reminders," Ptonomy says, with a wry fondness. "Do you think saving someone's life is heroic?"

"Yes," David admits. The conversation is coming back to him now.

"That's what you're doing now," Ptonomy says. "Saving David's life. Or do you think David doesn't deserve to be saved?"

Last time he said no. David didn't deserve to be saved. But— He knows now. He knows who David is and— David doesn't deserve to be tortured anymore. He doesn't deserve to have Farouk crawl into his head and take him over. He deserves— Good things. To stay with his friends. To be happy and— To love and be loved.

David is love, that’s in his foundation. But he isn’t just any old love. David is the love his friends and his family have for him. That love deserves to be saved.

"Yes," he says, amazed that he can say it. "David deserves to be saved."

"Then keep saving him," Ptonomy says.

Chapter 67: Day 10: Real is overrated. (David)

Chapter Text

David crosses out ‘Made me forget and sculpted me.’

It’s not that he’s done processing that horrific part of his reality, not at all. But he understands it enough for now, and accepting it has finally given him the continuity he’s been searching for. Beyond that? He has a lot of work to do and he has to do it fast. He’s finally strong enough to face the truth about his situation. He has to make himself strong enough to change it.

He turns to his notebook and updates his foundation.

‘I am David,’ he writes. ‘I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me, it wasn’t my choice. David is love.’

He can’t bring himself to change that last part to an ‘I’ statement. He can’t accept that he’s love, even though he’s trying to. He believes in the love of the people who love him. But actually loving himself, what he is, what he’s been made to be? He can’t do that. He doesn’t know if he ever will.

But he’s trying. And trying has gotten him farther than he ever imagined it could.

He does his foundation work and then his mantra work. He feels no need to change his mantra, but it resonates more strongly than ever. He’s strong enough to heal: he’s really starting to believe that one. Just for good measure, he does his wish list, too.

“You’ve got a whole novel going there,” Lenny teases.

“It’s more of an autobiography,” David jokes back. It kinda is, though. The very condensed story of his current existence. So condensed it can fit onto a single page. Half a page. That’s— More appropriate than he wants it to be. Looking back, knowing— At least the rough outline of his actual life— He hasn’t done much with it. Granted, he was busy being relentlessly tortured but— The part of his life that he was actually proud of wasn’t even his life.

Maybe he was too hasty in crossing out that line. It was a shock, realizing all that, and if David's learned anything about himself with all this, it’s that he doesn’t do well with shocks.

“Yeah, that’s why you’re taking a time-out,” Lenny reminds him. “Let that jumbled-up head settle before we start messing with it again.”

“You’re right,” David sighs. He knows she’s right. He’s just— Really impatient to keep going. But the cruise director knows best.

“How about some company for your time-out?” Lenny offers. “Remember what Ptonomy said, no solo wound-licking.”

That’s an image. “You’re here,” David counters.

“Me and Ptonomy don’t count,” Lenny says. “How about Amy?”

Amy. “Yeah, that’s—“ For years, he was someone else. Amy was there for that. They— Before David’s life fell apart, they were so close. And now— It's like Benny and Lenny, except he’s Benny. He’s the one who was overwritten. Amy’s like him, remembering two people as one. And he’s like Lenny, remembering a part of his life that didn’t happen to him.

“Maybe you do count,” David says. “I never asked you about— Since you came back— Being— A sunrise.”

They’re both sunrises: composite people created in Farouk’s image. Farouk took over both of them, trapped them, wore them as masks to hurt people.

Okay, yeah, a time-out was definitely a good idea.

“I’m not that,” Lenny says, and there’s an edge to her. “I’m just me.”

“But you remember being Benny,” David counters. “You do still remember being Benny? Or did the mainframe—“

“I remember a lot of things,” Lenny admits. “But who cares? We both remember being together so it happened. Just like all that college stuff happened for you and Amy. Who cares if it’s real, if we’re real? Real is overrated.”

“But Amy, Philly— They remember Benny,” David says. “And Benny’s real. If he’s still alive— When all this is over, maybe— If I saw him—“

“Dude, I remember being him, and trust me, you do not want the original,” Lenny says. “He’s the one who helped you destroy your life.”

David looks at Lenny and realizes something. “Do you feel guilty for what Benny did?”

Lenny shrugs. “We had some good times. But I remember stealing all your shit and selling it for drugs right in front of you. You were too fucked up to care. And I made sure you stayed fucked. Benny-me was an asshole, and he made a mess that Lenny-me is still cleaning up.”

David takes that in. “But— Your Benny memories— They’re not really Benny’s. They’re— what, fake versions of my memories of him?”

“Farouk was there, remember? He knows Benny, too. He read that asshole’s mind, like he reads everyone’s mind. We’re his own personal soap opera.”

What was it Clark said about soap operas? Amnesia and evil twins. Yes, that certainly describes David’s life.

"Okay," David says, trying to process all this. "But— You didn't— When I met you for the actual first time, you didn't help me because of Benny. You didn't know Benny except as— Stories I must have told you about him. So— Do you remember me— Telling you stories about yourself?" Not that he remembers one way or the other.

Lenny sighs. "You're making my brain hurt. And my brain is a computer."

"Sorry."

Lenny leans her head back. "Fuck," she mutters, eyes closed. Then she faces him again. "Listen. I remember a lot of things. When I got my Amy-body, I got my old memories back, everything up to the end. They're still kinda hazy because I got disembodied again, but— I got what I got. And original recipe Lenny wasn't a good person. Making a cocktail out of me and Benny? It wasn't a big leap. Like it wasn't a big leap to make a cocktail out of you and Divad. So just— Roll with it. Keep the good stuff. You get to remember me instead of Benny. I get to remember getting high with you and eating twice the pussy. And this college stuff— Do you really want to give that up? David Haller still did all that. What is it Dvd keeps saying? If one of you did something, you all did it. Take the win."

Keep the good stuff. That reminds him of his conversation with Kerry about magazines and the world. He told her not to throw the good out with the bad. At the time he hadn't felt able to take his own advice. But— Lenny has a point. They can't change what they remember. They can't unmix their cocktail minds. If he fights what he is, gives up— Years of his life and all the good things in them— That can't make him stronger.

But it's still— He still feels— Weird and guilty and confused about— All of that. Amy and Divad and Dvd— What they remember, what he remembers—

"So talk to them," Lenny says. "Ask them to come over. They're already hearing everything, so make it a conversation instead of a wiretap."

"Okay," David accepts. He guesses he's ready for some— Family time. The Haller family, sitting together, talking.

He watches as Divad wraps up with Cary, as Amy walks down from the exercise area, as Dvd drags himself over with visible reluctance. David rubs his palms against his thighs, nervous. Amy sits closest to him, then Divad sits next to her. Dvd sits in the opposite loveseat and crosses his arms.

"So, um," David begins. "Yeah. All that." He knows it's a lot. He doesn't know where to start. Everything's— Tangled.

"So let's untangle," Amy says. "That's what we're doing, right?"

That's what David has to do.

"You don't have to do it alone," Amy says, with a wry fondness. "We're part of this, too. Divad, how about you start? They were your memories. And all the things we did together— Those years were ours."

"Yeah," Divad says, roughly. "I was— All of that was me, not David. David was—" He looks at David, and there's such feeling in his eyes. Grief and pain and— And then it goes away.

"You're doing it again," David says, upset. "Please stop that."

"I don't want to hurt you," Divad says.

"You just don't want to hurt," Dvd counters, annoyed. "David already knows what happened. Maybe not everything but he knows enough. You want us to get better? Stop lying to him."

"David," Lenny says. "Tell me what Divad just did."

Of course. Lenny and Amy can only hear Divad, they can't see him. "He was upset," David says. "I saw it. And he— Suppressed himself."

"And suppressing himself— That's him managing his part of your system," Lenny says. "That's what he does for you so you don't need meds. So he's medicating himself."

Divad's not actually in their body— Well he is, but— Projected. "I guess," David says. Mutant powers are weird. All this soul-mind-body stuff—

"I know a junkie when I see one," Lenny declares. "Divad, you're a junkie."

Divad absolutely doesn't like that. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"That is such a junkie thing to say," Lenny says.

"David took drugs to get high," Divad defends. "So did you. I do what I do to keep my head clear so I can protect us."

"Liar," Dvd grumbles.

"And that's junkie logic," Lenny says. "I was two different junkies and one of them was a dealer so I know a customer when I see one. Dvd says you're turning yourself off and David thinks so, too. You're outvoted."

"That's absurd," Divad says, unimpressed. "Maybe you're projecting because you need a fix and you can't get one."

Lenny laughs. "I like you. But no, shithead. You're always thinking about how David fucked up your life. Well guess what? You're a David, too. And you’re fucking up big time."

Divad glares at her. "I don't have to listen to this."

"Actually, yeah, you do," Lenny says, smugly. "Because if you don't, I'll just tell David what you've been thinking about him, and then you'll have to listen him being upset about it."

If looks could kill, Lenny would be dead for a third time. But Dvd is absolutely delighted. "I like Lenny," Dvd tells David. "Did I ever tell you that? She gets us."

"She does," David agrees, but looks to Divad. "What exactly have you been thinking about me? Because you've both been thinking a lot of things and I don't know any of it. Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy and— And Clark know! And Kerry and Cary! But you won't share anything with me." It's not fair. It's— It makes him feel like a child, like he can't be trusted by his brothers, by his own mind. His own mind keeps secrets from him and that's— It's crazy. It makes him feel absolutely crazy.

Dvd is less delighted by that. "You're not supposed to hear our thoughts. That's not—"

"Don't," David warns. "It doesn't matter how we used to work. We're making a new system and— And I'm not going to be part of a system that lies to me. That's not— Healthy multiplicity. I want us to have healthy multiplicity. I want—" He looks to Lenny. "What did Ptonomy say?"

"A functional co-relationship with shared responsibility and accountability," Lenny says.

"That," David says, firmly. "I want that."

Both Divad and Dvd wear the same expression. It's not an agreeable one.

"I changed my mind about Lenny," Dvd says, and glares at her.

"Guess I've been outvoted," David sighs, and looks to Amy and Lenny for help.

"Maybe it's time we sic Ptonomy on one of these guys," Lenny says. "You stay here with us, and one of them can go have a session. Let him do some of the heavy lifting on this."

"They should both have a session," David grumbles.

Lenny considers that. "Yeah, they should. They like sharing. They can share a session and deal with it together."

"David, will you be okay stepping out for a while?" Amy asks. "It can wait if you need more time."

David takes a moment to check in with his feelings and ground himself. He learned all of that years ago to help manage his anxiety, but it turns out it's good for dissociation, too. He fell out of the habit but he needs to get the habit back. Being outside of his body is risky for him, even aside from detachment syndrome. He needs to stay grounded for a lot of reasons.

He feels— Okay. He has a lot of mixed feelings but they feel manageable. Lenny and Ptonomy have been really good at helping things feel manageable today. But—

"Maybe—" He looks to Amy. "Could I get a hug first?"

Amy smiles. "Of course." She opens her arms, and David gets up and goes right into them. There's nothing as grounding as this, nothing.

When David feels topped up, he lets go of Amy and sits back on the sofa. He steps out of his body and goes back to the loveseat, relieved of his body's burdens. Divad and Dvd reluctantly go in together. Their body — theirs, not his, remember that — opens their eyes and looks at him.

"You're really both in charge?" David asks, extremely curious.

"Yeah," they say.

David suddenly understands why Lenny needed a name for their system. He can't tell who's talking when they're like this. Because they both are? The Davids.

"Can I do that?" David asks.

"You used to," the Davids say.

"So— When you share like this—"

The Davids look away. "We don't want to talk about it." They stand up and go to join Ptonomy at the table.

David sighs. Making a new system is— About as easy as replacing an old idea with a new one. Except it's a whole bunch of old ideas all joined up, and the new ideas just can't get a foothold. He wants to be a system with them, but— Not as he was. And they still won't accept him as he is.

"They're trying," Lenny says. "Let Ptonomy soften em up for you. Hang out with us. You still want to talk to Amy, right?"

He does. Especially after that hug.

"Amy," he starts. "All those years—"

"I know," Amy says. "It wasn't you. It was Divad. You were— My poor Davey."

She looks like she might cry. David's instinct is still to avoid upsetting her, but he can't. And it should be okay for her to cry if she's upset. It should be okay for him to talk about things that upset her.

"I guess we're working on a new system, too," David says, and wishes she could see him. He wishes he could hug her again. But Divad and Dvd need to be in their body, too. They need to share so they can all heal together.

"We are," Amy says, and wipes her eyes. "Davey, when you were in college, you had a seizure. Do you remember that?”

"A seizure?"

"Dad and I came as soon as we could," Amy says. "You were— Very confused. But then you recovered. You said you were fine."

"I don't remember having a seizure," David says. He doesn't remember being in the hospital or Dad and Amy visiting him because of that. Farouk must have made him forget that, too, to hide the break, preserve his continuity. It's— Deeply unsettling, but— He forgot twenty years of his life, what's a few more days?

What does he remember? No, what did Farouk make him remember?

"Farouk made me remember— Doing really well in my classes." He was proud of his achievements, of excelling in his schoolwork despite his schizophrenia. "I thought— I could do it because of the medication, because it helped so much. But it stopped helping."

He tried increasing his medication, but that made it harder to think, not easier the way— The way Farouk made him remember it working. Farouk made David remember understanding all the material, even the advanced coursework, extra material his professors gave him to challenge him. But when he tried to use what he knew— He couldn't concentrate and nothing made sense anymore. He felt so confused, so lost and— Stupid. All his professors, his advisor, Amy— They didn't know what to think. He knew so much but somehow he just— Stopped knowing.

Amy was upset with him, everyone was upset, and he felt so ashamed of— All of it. He disappointed everyone, he ruined everything. He couldn't do anything right. His grades flatlined. He got put on academic probation, lost his scholarship, and then he was expelled. He started taking drugs because the medication wasn't helping and he was desperate for something, anything to give him relief. And then things got really bad.

He blamed himself. Nothing made sense, but— The one thing that made sense was his failure. Because he was broken, he was garbage. He was crazy, he was sick, of course he failed. It was wrong for him to even try to— To be happy, to do something good, to want things. He could never be anything other than what he was. Philly tried to help him, Doctor Poole, Amy. He tried to keep going, tried to get better for them, but— He knew he was never going to get better. The only thing he could do was— Try to make it stop.

So he tied a knot.

But—

All of that—

It was torture. It was Farouk torturing him.

"It was," Amy says, pained. "What he did to you— I talked to Cary about what happened and he thinks— You have a version of Divad’s memories for— It must have been at least three years, maybe more. You remember being Divad. But— Farouk didn't give you Divad's knowledge, his skills."

David takes that in. “Memories without knowledge.” That's— That would explain— He was so confused and frustrated because he was certain that he knew, but— He didn't know. Farouk didn't let him know. He thought he forgot somehow, but— He never knew in the first place.

His life fell apart, but— Of course his life fell apart. It wasn't his life.

All those years David remembered being Divad, he was there with Divad, but— He didn't learn with him. He was too broken to learn.

And then Farouk made him forget that he was broken. Farouk patched him up with false memories, but David was still broken underneath. He had the memories of a genuinely functional David Haller but nothing to back it up. He was given Divad's life but denied everything he needed to live it. The medication didn't help because it never helped because he was never schizophrenic. He had a monster in his head, relentlessly torturing him.

"It wasn't my fault," David realizes.

All those years, all that pain and shame and failure, his madness, his downward spiral, his suicide attempt, even Clockworks. All of that, all of that was Farouk torturing him, healing him just so he could make him crazy with fake memories and hallucinations and confusion and fear and—

He had a monster in his head.

It wasn't his fault. It really, truly wasn't his fault.

"It wasn't," Amy agrees. "And I'm so sorry for all the things I said to you. I— I didn't get to go to college because I had to take care of you after Mom died. And— When you went I was so proud, but— When you failed— I felt like you'd wasted the chance for both of us. And I was frustrated and angry that you got worse after you'd been so much better, that I had to sacrifice the life I was finally able to build for myself because I had to look after you again. And the drugs and Doctor Poole and— I stopped believing that you'd ever be able to get better. That's— Why I gave up."

"You didn't—" David protests.

"You were my responsibility," Amy says, firmly. "You gave me that and I didn't respect how much— You relied on me to take care of you. You weren't capable of giving yourself the help you needed. You knew that. But I still treated you like you could. I still acted like you were Divad and not— My Davey."

"I guess— You were my Divad," David says. "And Dvd. I didn't remember them, but—"

"You were still the same person you were with them," Amy says, understanding. "You still needed them. And without them— You did the best you could. Philly and Syd and Lenny and— Even Benny. You went to people and trusted them to take care of you. And eventually you found the right people to trust. Even if— It took a while for them to figure you out." She gives a sad smile. "You're a very complicated person, Davey."

"Yeah," David admits. He looks down at his hands. "I knew that— You were angry with me. I heard it. I heard— Everything. I just— Didn't know what was real."

"Divad and Dvd covered for you a lot, even before Divad took charge," Amy says. "They did such a good job. But that meant— We never knew how bad it really was. We couldn't. David, it's so important that we don't go back to that."

"I know," David says. If they all survive this, if they can get Amy a new body and— Even without Farouk making him worse, he still has so much to get better from. His whole system needs to heal and— They need to heal the right way. They can't do that if they're covering up their pain, like Divad and Dvd still are.

David doesn't remember lying to Amy about his brothers or his powers. He doesn't remember knowing about them or the monster. But he must have lied to her. Divad and Dvd's secrecy is more evidence of how things used to be. Maybe even David's fear of upsetting Amy— Even that might be a remnant of his old system.

"I think your system learned it from us," Amy says. "Me and Mom and Dad. We were never good at talking about our feelings, sharing our pain. You don't remember, but— Mom being sick all the time. Mom and Dad— They didn't want to talk about her illness. They just wanted to focus on the good things. But ignoring our pain—"

"Didn't make it go away," David says, in wry echo of Ptonomy.

Amy smiles. "See, you're learning. You're making semantic memories."

"Gotta fill up all that empty space somehow," David jokes.

"We will," Amy promises. "It's okay that the old memories are gone. We're going to make so many new ones, happy ones. We're going to fill up all of that space so you'll have lots of good things to remember."

Good memories. David wants that. He wants to add it to his wish list. He reaches for his pen, but his hand goes through it.

"I could write it for you?" Amy offers. "If that's okay."

David hesitates. His notebook is his new self. But— He wants Amy to be part of his new self. "You can write for me," he says.

He watches as Amy picks up the notebook and pen. She adds 'Good memories' to the bottom of the wish list.

It's so much to ask for. To have good memories, good things have to happen. Time has to pass without anything making the memories bad. If he tries to remember the good memories he has, they only hurt him now. They remind him that the past he remembers isn't real, that he isn't real. That he's— A sunrise. A cocktail. Farouk's creation, his toy, his victim.

"Don't let him decide what you are," Lenny says, and David looks up. "You're David, right? You've always been David. So fuck the shit beetle. It doesn't matter what he did to you. He doesn't get to choose who you are. You do."

David can’t believe that. If he accepts that what happened to him wasn’t his choice— He has to accept that it was Farouk’s choice. Farouk lived inside him since he was a baby and defined every aspect of David's existence. Farouk was his schizophrenia. Farouk gave him his dozen or so actual mental illnesses. Farouk stole his real memories and gave him fake ones, twenty years of fake memories, and then made up for leaving out all that torture by giving him another ten years of torture. He’s asked himself who he is without the monster and now he knows. Without Farouk, he isn’t even David Haller.

"That's one story," Lenny says. "How about this one? You're David Haller because your parents gave you to the Hallers to keep you safe from a bunch of fascists. Then an asshole parasite infected you, but turns out? Baby David was way stronger than the parasite. It couldn't escape so it hurt you instead. But you fought back. You made a system and your system got strong. No matter what that parasite did, your system kept fighting, kept trying to get help. And then one day you got the right help and you got the parasite out. And now it wants back in, but it can't have you because you don't belong to it or anyone else. You belong to yourself."

"That's a hell of a story," David says. It's a lot better than his old one, but— That's a lot of old ideas to replace with new ones. It's not going to be easy.

"Okay," Lenny says. "Then start small. What's the one part of that you want to believe most?"

David thinks about that. He looks at his notebook, his foundation and mantra and wish list. He thinks about the new self that the notebook represents, the new life he's trying to build.

"Lenny, could you—" David starts. "I want to change my foundation. I want you to write it for me."

Lenny looks— Shockingly touched by that. "Yeah, okay," she says, casually. She takes the notebook and pen from Amy. "Tell me what you want."

"I am David," David says. "I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. David is love."

"Nice," Lenny approves.

"That's wonderful," Amy says, with a warm smile.

"I belong to myself," David tries. "I belong to myself." He's not Farouk's David. He's not anyone's David. He's his own David and he chooses what that means. He's his own David and he's going to make sure his system has healthy multiplicity because that's his choice. That's part of who he wants to be. And he can make that choice because he's here and alive and has the strength to heal.

Lenny looks absolutely proud. "I'd high-five you right now, but—"

"Yeah," David says, and rubs the back of his neck. It feels good, the idea that he belongs to himself. It feels very good. He wants to build on that so much. He just has to keep saying it and believing it until it becomes a part of him. And then the delusion inside him, the idea that he's Farouk's, he's going to push that out of his head and never let it back in.

Chapter 68: Day 10: What if nothing is ever enough? (Divad)

Chapter Text

“We have a lot to work on together," Ptonomy says. "But first I'm going to ask you the same thing I asked David. How about you start by telling me about your morning? You had a rough day yesterday. How are you feeling now?"

"You already know," Divad and Dvd say together. If they have to put up with telepathic therapy, then they shouldn't have to talk about what everyone already knows.

"It helps David to talk," Ptonomy counters. "It's true, your therapy has involved a lot of discovery. But it's really about how you feel, and talking about how you feel is important." He gives them a considering look. "How about you talk about how it feels to be in charge together? How does that work?"

"None of your business," Divad and Dvd say. That's private. The way their system works is private.

"You didn't even want to tell David how your system works," Ptonomy says.

Divad and Dvd glance at David. Amy and Lenny are keeping him distracted. Good.

"You still don't want to tell him," Ptonomy realizes. "All right. If it makes you more comfortable, we can speak privately." 'Let's do this through the relay.'

Fine, Divad and Dvd think. But they do relax a little. Ptonomy was sneaky yesterday, getting them to tell David things he wasn’t ready to hear. But all these people, David's friends— They haven't told David what's in Divad and Dvd's thoughts even though they could have. Lenny threatened to, but— They think she was bluffing. She doesn't want to upset David either.

'Why don't you want to tell David how your system works?' Ptonomy asks.

Divad and Dvd sigh. They do want to tell him. But— It hurts. Him not knowing. He's supposed to know.

Ptonomy nods. 'Your bedroom, the way your powers work, the way your sharing works. He developed all those things with you. And no one else even knew you existed, much less how you worked. It's all truly been private to your system. Except your system wasn't alone inside your body. Farouk knows how your system works, too. So it's important that we know, so we can help you keep yourselves safe.'

Divad and Dvd have to admit that makes sense.

'Do you always think and speak together when you share?' Ptonomy asks.

They don't have to. They’re still themselves. Divad is the one who makes the sharing work.

'Because Divad can control your body?' Ptonomy asks.

Mutant emotional regulation. Divad never needed a name for it, it's just what he does. But he can do a lot more than regulate emotions. David and Dvd can control the world. Divad controls their body.

'Tell me about that,' Ptonomy says. 'Did your powers start out like this, or did you develop them?'

David must have been able to use all of them before he made them. Their powers already worked when they started to exist. None of them knew all the words for things or the details of how their body and powers functioned. They thought about doing a thing and the thing happened. But he wanted to understand, to learn. The more he learned, the better he was able to help their system.

'Is that how you helped David?' Ptonomy asks. 'How you helped him recover when Farouk left you alone?'

'I helped him, too,' Dvd thinks. 'I didn't need powers. David just needed us to help him feel better.'

'Holding him,' Ptonomy says.

'Yeah,' Dvd thinks, heartfelt. 'We held him and— We made him better.'

'You comforted him," Ptonomy says. 'You loved him. I know how powerful that must have been for him. For all of you.'

Love helped David a lot, Divad thinks. But it wasn't enough. As they got older, David took longer to recover, and even when he did— He kept getting worse and worse. Divad started covering for David for longer periods. He used those times to study and learn. Their teachers started to notice and encouraged them, helped them apply for their scholarship. Divad started to hope that he could learn enough about their body that he could get the monster out. But Ptonomy already knows how that ended.

'Farouk didn't want Divad Haller,' Ptonomy says. 'He wanted David and he used your memories to fix David in ways you couldn't. That must have been very difficult for you.'

Difficult? It was torture.

'It was,' Ptonomy agrees. 'He even gave David your hopes and dreams. But David couldn't carry them out, not the way you could. He didn't have the knowledge you'd earned through hard work and practice. He was lost and confused and you couldn't do anything to help him or stop him from ruining the life you'd built.'

'It wasn't his life,' Dvd grumbles. 'It was ours and he forgot that.'

And now Dvd never lets him forget that.

'Dvd, you covered for David when you were younger,' Ptonomy says. 'Why did you stop?'

'David needed me,' Dvd insists. 'It wasn't good to leave him alone. If we did— He started thinking bad things. So I stayed with him to protect him from his thoughts and Divad took care of all that outside stuff. I didn't care about it anyway. My job was to keep David safe.'

'Ah, so that's how it happened,' Ptonomy says. 'Your situation changed and both of you adapted to it. So these rigid roles you keep insisting on, they're not so rigid after all.'

Divad and Dvd give Ptonomy an annoyed look.

Ptonomy smiles, amused. 'Is it really such a terrible thing, changing? All of us are always changing all the time. We grow up, we meet new people, we face new circumstances. All three of you have been through a lot of change. Even if David was exactly the way you remembered him from college, the two of you have changed since then. Now you have the chance to change together, to heal together. Why not embrace that?'

It's not that simple, Dvd and Divad think together. Whatever they build, that's what Farouk's going to destroy.

'So you're going to let Farouk stop you from being together?' Ptonomy challenges. 'Your system needs to heal. This is the first real chance you've had to do that for a long time, maybe ever. Stop letting fear hold you back.'

'I'm not afraid,' Dvd insists.

Liar, Divad thinks. They are afraid. They're terrified. And it hurts so much, having to start over with David when David was the one who was there first.

'You know that's not true,' Ptonomy says. 'The David you know was created at the same time as both of you. But he must have been the one to keep the original David's memories. David doesn't just have the memories of two people. He has the memories of three. Maybe even four, if Farouk gave him some of Dvd's memories, too. I wouldn't be surprised if he did.'

Divad and Dvd both have to take that in. David had someone else's memories, even before college. And— David keeping the original David's memories, his name— That's why Farouk still thinks he's the original. That's why they all did.

'Before the three of you were created, David's personality— He was still very young,' Ptonomy says. 'His personality was still forming. But the three of you together add up to one David. You always have and you always will, no matter what memories each of you has or how much you've changed. You are the David Haller system. Do you really want to let Farouk keep you apart now, after everything you've been through, after everything you've done to stay together?'

No, Divad and Dvd think. But— David not knowing them hurts.

'Of course it does,' Ptonomy says. 'This has been painful for all three of you. You've all lost things you'll never get back. But you're here and you're not alone. That's in David's foundation. Maybe it should be part of yours, too.'

David said he wanted to make a foundation for their system, Divad thinks. That they have to stay alive for each other.

'If that's something you all agree on, how about you write it down?' Ptonomy asks. 'You can show it to David when we finish. I'm sure he'd like that.'

They think about that. They want it, they do, but— They can't stop thinking about college.

'What do you actually remember about what happened?' Ptonomy asks. 'I think it would help you both to talk about it.'

They think back. The last thing they remember before it happened— They were in their dorm room, studying. Divad was studying. David and Dvd were keeping guard, and Dvd was keeping David company. That was how they worked, then. That was how they kept their system safe.

Divad was so excited about how challenging all the material was, how much he was learning. He was getting close to figuring out how to save them, he could feel it. And then— Everything went away. They lost control of their body. A seizure, a grand mal, and then—

'We woke up in the hospital,' Dvd thinks. 'I woke up first but I couldn't do anything. Divad couldn't either. When David finally woke up, he was really confused.'

The doctors told David it was normal to be confused after a seizure. At first, they thought maybe that explained everything. But David didn't remember them, and he remembered things that he shouldn't have, he remembered being Divad. He didn't even know they were there, trapped inside their body, screaming at him. He didn't know about his powers, he thought the voices he heard were part of his schizophrenia, and he believed he was schizophrenic. They were never schizophrenic. But David had forgot about the monster, too. And the monster was back, making David hear and see things, making him worse when he was already so scared and confused.

'You had to watch David be tortured, and you couldn't do anything to help him or yourselves,' Ptonomy says, sympathetic. 'That must have been unbearable.'

It was. It was— God, it was— There aren't words for how bad it was. There aren't even thoughts.

'That's what's stopping you now,' Ptonomy says. 'That trauma is why you're afraid to hope, why you're afraid to truly accept David back into your system, into your hearts. You went through something incredibly horrific and you don't want to go through it again.'

They don't. They can't. It was so— Their heart hurts even thinking about it.

'Stay with the feeling,' Ptonomy urges. 'Don't drown it with anger, don't suppress your emotions.'

They have to, Divad and Dvd think. It hurts too much.

'What Lenny said before, about Divad being a junkie,' Ptonomy says. 'She has a point. But your problem isn't addiction, it's trauma. We all have different ways to cope with our trauma, but we can become dysfunctionally dependent on those coping mechanisms. David dissociates and he did use drugs to help him separate him from his trauma, to float away from it. Dvd, you use anger to push your trauma away. And Divad, you abuse your powers.'

Divad isn't a junkie.

'You're not a junkie,' Ptonomy agrees. 'But you are abusing your powers. It's a common problem with mutants. I abused my memory powers. I helped a lot of people face their traumatic memories. Remembering helped them. So I thought if I always faced my trauma, if I lived in it, it couldn't hurt me. But I was wrong. Oliver helped a lot of traumatized people, too, and just like me he couldn't help but make their pain his own. He dealt with it by astral projecting, by detaching from his body to escape the pain inside it. But he did it so much he lost himself, and all the people who love him lost him, too.'

Divad—

'Go on,' Ptonomy prompts. 'Stay with the thought.'

Divad doesn't— There isn't anyone who loves him.

'What about your brothers?' Ptonomy asks.

Dvd hates him. David doesn't know him, but— When he knows what Divad did to him, he'll hate him, too. No one would care if he suppressed himself forever. They don't want him. The only thing he's good for is helping David.

'That's stupid,' Dvd grumbles. 'You're the one who doesn't even want to be in our system anymore.'

That's not what he wants! He never wanted that. He took them to college to save them, not because he wanted to steal David's life. He wanted to help David, to help all of them, and David was too broken to be in charge. And Dvd and David had each other, they didn't need him and Dvd was always yelling at him to stay in charge if he loved it so much.

'You loved being in charge,' Dvd accuses. 'If you'd fixed David, you wouldn't have let him be in charge again.'

He would have. It was David's life, not his. He wrote David's name on everything all the time. David Haller, not Divad Haller. The degree he earned, if he'd been able to finish earning it, would have been David's degree. He was only covering for David.

'Liar,' Dvd says, angrily. 'Admit it. Admit you loved it!'

Fine! He loved it! He loved being in charge, okay? He loved being useful to more than just their system. He loved getting straight As and having the approval of his professors and his advisor. He loved college and learning and— Being in charge. Having a life, his life, and choosing to do what he wanted to do. David and Dvd didn't care anymore, so why shouldn't he make the choices himself?

'It wasn't fair,' Dvd insists. 'Maybe I wanted to be in charge again sometimes, but— David needed me and you weren't safe for him! You didn't care about him, not the way I did. Before you were in charge all the time, you were always yelling at him, making him worse.'

David kept making mistakes. He kept making the wrong choices. Divad was just trying to help him make the right ones.

'The monster never gave him any good choices,' Dvd thinks, angrily. 'That's what it does. You knew that but you didn't care. You kept yelling at him anyway. You were glad when David took too long to get better. You stopped helping him and that's why he never got better, that's why you had to take over. It's your fault!'

'That's enough, both of you,' Ptonomy warns. 'Blame won't help anyone. Punishing each other won't help anyone. It won't help David and it won't help your system. There are some real issues here but you're both talking past each other. I'm going tell you what I just heard, and you're both going to listen. Okay?'

‘Okay,’ they grumble.

Ptonomy takes a moment. 'When you were young, the three of you loved each other unconditionally. That love helped David heal. But as you each grew older, you changed. Divad, you survive on logic, rational thinking, but also anger. When you saw the monster manipulating David, you tried to help him, but you punished him instead. The monster used that against you. The more he tricked David, the more he provoked you into punishing David. You knew what you were doing wasn't helping but you couldn’t stop being angry, so you tried to fix the problem another way. Instead of patching David up just so the monster could break him again, you let David stay broken so you could get the monster out. If you could get rid of the monster, you could help David and it wouldn't be for nothing. You let David suffer in the short-term so you could find a long-term solution. Does that sound right?'

Yes, Divad thinks.

'And Dvd,' Ptonomy continues. 'When Divad punished David, that made you angry. The more help David needed, the more you sacrificed yourself to protect him. You stopped taking your turn being in charge because you didn't want to leave David with Divad. But you resented that and you took your anger out on Divad. Even though you knew Divad was trying to find a way to stop the monster for good, you couldn't see past the fact that David was suffering and couldn't heal. You were jealous that Divad had the freedom you didn't. You continued to love and protect David, but you punished Divad for his freedom and for letting David suffer.'

'And so what?' Dvd thinks, angrily. 'He deserves to be punished. He let David suffer! On purpose! That's even worse than I thought!'

'If Divad had healed David, what would have happened?' Ptonomy challenges. 'The monster would have broken him again, given him even more trauma. Letting David stay broken was the logical solution. And Divad thought he was close to a real solution. He probably was. That's why the monster had to intervene. He had to shut you down for good because Divad was a real threat to him.'

'I guess,' Dvd thinks, reluctantly.

Divad never wanted to hurt David. He just wanted the torture to stop, he wanted the monster gone so their system would truly be safe. The times the monster left them alone, the monster was just using those to make the next torture worse. It saw how they healed and used that to make the next break worse. Every time it was worse, and Divad couldn't let David be tortured like that anymore. But the only way to do that was to refuse to heal David. Even if Dvd hated him forever, it would all be worth it when they got the monster out. David would never be tortured again, and then Divad would be able to heal him using everything he'd learned in college and they would all be okay. It was the logical solution.

'It was a very good plan,' Ptonomy agrees. 'But it wasn't good enough. Farouk couldn't let that threat stand, and in the race between his plan and yours, his won. And that's exactly the same situation we're facing now. All of us against Farouk, racing for a solution. Letting your system stay broken wasn't the answer in college and it isn't the answer now.'

'You know so much, you tell us the answer,' Dvd challenges.

'Farouk isn't just a monster to us now,' Ptonomy says. 'We know who he is and what he wants. What he wants is to get back inside of David, to control him, to claim him and his powers. So we need your system to be too strong to let him do that. That means David needs to understand himself and your system. That means you need to open up to him and trust him the way he's trying to trust you. You need to be whole so Farouk can't break you. David's made a lot of progress towards that, but he can't do it without you. The two of you have always protected David, but you have to adapt to what he needs now, to what's healthy for your system now. And what he needs is for you to stop blaming each other. He needs you to make peace with your past and accept him as he is.'

'What if that's not enough?' they ask. 'What if nothing is ever enough?'

'Maybe that would be true if you were doing this on your own,' Ptonomy allows. 'But this time is different because you're not alone. You have us. I know it's difficult for you to trust anyone outside of your system, I know you haven't known us for very long. But we promised David we would be with him every step of the way, and that promise is for you, too. It's for the David Haller system. We got the monster out of you. Trust us to help you keep it out and stop it once and for all.'

It's so hard for them to trust. They barely even trust each other anymore, much less a bunch of strangers. But— David trusts them and they've helped David so much, really helped him. They got the monster out. They stopped David from wanting to die. They got David to start accepting that he's part of their system. David is better and he wants their whole system to keep getting better with them.

Ptonomy's right. The monster has been tearing them apart for a long time. He made them turn their anger inward so they hurt each other instead of protecting each other the way they were meant to. David said— he said they're all Davids. So it's not their job to protect him. It's their job to protect each other, all three of them.

They want that. They want their system to be like it was. Not when they were in college, but— When they were young.

'Don't go back,' Ptonomy cautions. 'None of you are who you were back then. You were children. Now you're adults. You've all learned a lot. Keep that knowledge but let go of your anger and pain. Let go of your mistakes, learn from them and move on. Forgive each other. Heal and grow together. That's all you ever wanted. You can have that now because we got the monster out. Don't waste this chance. We don't know how long it will last.'

'We'll try,' they think. They have to try. For David, for their system, they have to try.

'Excellent,' Ptonomy says. 'That's all you have to do. So how about you take the first steps together? What would you like to say to each other? What will help your system heal?'

Divad feels he should go first. When he decided to let David stay broken— He made a mistake because he made that decision on his own. He should have talked about it with his brothers. Maybe if he had— They could have made a better plan. They wouldn't have wasted so much energy fighting each other. They would have been stronger, and if they'd worked together, they might have been able to protect their system from what happened to it. Even though Divad was trying to do the right thing for all of them— It was wrong to do it without them. He was playing the hero instead of being a hero.

'You were,' Dvd thinks, with grumpy satisfaction.

'Dvd,' Ptonomy chides.

'Okay, okay,' Dvd thinks. 'You were trying to do the right thing for us. Not just— Play the monster's game. If you're sorry for making decisions without us— Then I'm sorry for— Deciding to punish you instead of— I don't know. Talking, I guess. We should have talked. All that yelling— It wasn't good for David.'

It wasn't good for any of them. Divad is sorry for all of that, for making their system worse when he was trying to make it better. He— He loves his brothers, he always has. He didn't ever want to hurt them. He just— Made a mistake. It seemed like— The right choice. The only choice. It seemed necessary, even though it wasn't.

'That's how traumatic situations are,' Ptonomy says. 'When bad things happen, it's difficult to make the right decision. It's even harder when someone is doing everything they can to trick you into thinking the wrong decision is the right one. The three of you need to be able to work together, to talk and make decisions together, so when a crisis happens, you can make the best possible choice together. And you can ask us, so you're not making decisions alone like you were after the orb brought you back.'

Divad and Dvd didn't think of it as making decisions alone. The three of them made their plan together. But they were tricked, again, like they were always tricked.

'Farouk is good at tricks,' Ptonomy allows. 'He knows our thoughts and that makes it easy for him to set us up with painful choices. But if you trust us, together we can be smarter than the monster, we can make our own choices. This isn't all happening inside your head anymore. This is happening in the world. The monster is just a man and one man can't control the whole world. The world is full of so many people thinking so many things. One man can't read all those minds at once. He can't make a plan to account for billions of people. It only takes a few of those billions of people to give you the right kind of help. So let us help. Cary and Kerry. Me and Lenny and Oliver. Amy and Syd. Will you let us be your friends?'

'We'll try,' they agree.

Ptonomy smiles again. "Then how about we take a break? It's about lunchtime. How about you have lunch with your friends?"

"Yeah, okay," they say. Lunch with their friends. Not just David's friends, but their friends. They tried to accept David's friends before and they couldn't, but— Maybe they just need to try again.

"How about you talk to someone while I go pick up our lunch order?" Ptonomy suggests. "Who do you want to talk to?"

They look around the room. David's with Amy and Lenny and seems happy, they don't want to interrupt that. And Cary is busy and Oliver is relaying. Divad likes talking to Cary, but—

"Kerry," they say. "We want to talk to Kerry." David loves Kerry so much, and— They want to understand how Kerry made David love her, so David will love them the way he loves her.

"Kerry it is," Ptonomy says. "How about making your lunch just the three of you? It's easier to get to know someone when you can talk to them alone. You can eat in the loft. The rest of us will be fine."

"Yes, we like that better," they say. David's right. Ptonomy is really good at making things feel manageable. David's made a lot of friends, but they never made any for themselves, not even in college. David loves Kerry, he has a system with her, so— They should try to make a system with her, too.

Chapter 69: Day 10: So you think I'm the nice one? (Dvd)

Chapter Text

Dvd would never admit it, but he's glad he and Divad have to share their body together because of this detachment thing. He doesn't like being in their body alone. It's not that he's afraid, it's not that he doesn't want to be in charge. It's just— Unnatural, being the only one inside while his brothers are projected. They're supposed to share. They're supposed to share with David, but David isn't ready for that so sharing with just Divad is close enough.

They're going to share with David tonight, which— Dvd's trying not to get too intense about that because he knows that it freaks David out now when Dvd gets intense. But intense was how they worked. Those last few years, Divad had the world but David and Dvd only had each other. Dvd's intensity made David feel safe and kept him from thinking bad things. They were each other's world.

That's not how they work anymore.

All these people who claim to love David— Dvd can't know for sure if it's true until they get the crown off, and even then there'll be no way to know what Ptonomy and Amy and Lenny are really thinking inside the mainframe. It might all still be another trick. They can pretty it up all they want, but these people need them to stop Farouk again and don't think Dvd didn't notice that.

But none of that matters, not right now, not to Dvd. It’s Dvd’s job to take care of David, period, end of sentence. When David wanted to take Syd and Lenny-Amy with them to a farm somewhere, Dvd accepted that, even though Syd tried to kill them and they didn't even know if Lenny was Lenny. And now David has made all these people the foundation of his recovery: Kerry, Amy, and Lenny, but also Cary, Ptonomy, and Oliver. Dvd doesn’t trust them but he has to accept them.

The Syd situation is— Difficult to assess.

This would all be a lot easier if David made Dvd the foundation of his recovery like he used to. But David was too broken for Dvd to fix before college, and David is definitely too broken for Dvd to fix now, even with Divad finally doing his job again. Dvd really wants to be furious about Divad leaving David broken on purpose, but he’s trying to forgive Divad for that. It’s not easy but he’s trying, because that’s what David needs. Dvd is trying very hard to be what David needs now, because being what David needed ten years ago isn’t working.

That’s why he needs to talk to Kerry. With everyone else, it’s complicated. But Kerry— David loves Kerry the way David used to love Dvd. Kerry’s love feels unconditional and safe to David, and David yearns for that even though it makes him confused, because David never really gets why anyone would love him. It’s really fucking tragic if you ask Dvd, but that’s just how David works, and Dvd always accepts David as he is.

Or at least he’s trying to.

And now that he’s thought all of that, he doesn’t have to say any of it. So Kerry can just— Tell him what to do so David will love him the way he loves her.

“Um,” Kerry says, visibly bewildered. “Ptonomy said not to talk back to your thoughts.”

Dvd huffs. “I’m not saying any of that out loud.”

“Any of what?” Divad asks.

“None of your business,” Dvd says. “This is private between me and Kerry.”

“If you’re thinking something, the only people who can’t hear it are me and David,” Divad reminds him.

“Exactly,” Dvd says.

That pisses Divad off. “You trust them more than you trust me?”

“Kerry didn’t let David stay broken for years on purpose so she could steal his life,” Dvd says, and okay, so much for not being furious about that. He’s really furious.

"Say that one more time and I'm leaving," Divad warns. "And don't lie to me, I know you don't want that, I can feel our cortisol rising already."

"Don't manage me just because we're sharing," Dvd warns back.

"I'm not doing anything," Divad replies. "That's what I'm supposed to do, right? Just be myself? Well here I am."

"Everything okay up here?" It's Amy, carrying a tray with their lunch.

"You're supposed to be with David," Dvd tells her.

"David's got plenty of company," Amy says. She sets down the tray and hands them their food. "Kerry, is it all right if I join you?"

"Please," Kerry sighs. "They're really— Intense."

“Divad was thinking things at Kerry, too,” Dvd tells Amy. He's not the only intense one. Divad is always pretending he’s better than everyone but he’s not.

“Maybe I was,” Divad says, crossing their arms defensively. “Maybe that’s none of your business.”

"Those two are definitely brothers," Amy tells Kerry.

"David and Cary aren't like them," Kerry says.

"David's had his difficult moments," Amy says, which Dvd thinks is an incredible understatement. "Haven't you and Cary ever fought?"

"I guess," Kerry says. "But I don't like fighting with Cary. All Divad and Dvd do is fight with each other."

"That's not quite true," Amy says. "Divad, Dvd, you're not just fighting now. You're sharing your body together. That must take a lot of cooperation. When Ptonomy and Lenny and I were sharing one Vermillion, we had to cooperate so we didn't try to do two things at once. It must be the same for you."

"I guess," Dvd shrugs. "We've shared for our whole lives so it's easy."

"It's easy for you," Divad counters. "I'm the one doing all the work."

"What happens if you disagree?" Kerry asks them. "Do you, like, fight over how to move your hands? Could you poke yourself in the eye or would the other one stop you?"

Divad doesn't answer, which means he doesn't want to talk about it, so Dvd takes the opportunity to get one over on him. "Do you have to stop yourself from poking yourself in the eye? No. So neither do we."

"When the three of you were young, did you share a lot?" Amy asks.

"Most of the time," Dvd says. "David liked it, it made him feel safe." It made them all feel safe. There was a monster in their head, they had to stick together. And it made it easier to cover for David.

"So all the things I did with David," Amy says. "I really did do them with all of you?"

"Yeah," Divad and Dvd say together. They think about their childhood, being with Amy and their parents. It hurts that David doesn't remember that they were there with him. It hurts that David barely remembers their parents.

"But you remember," Amy says, looking at them with such feeling, and— Dvd realized that it means a lot to her, that they remember what David can't. And he realizes— It means a lot to him. Amy remembering what happened, Amy knowing they were there and— Being happy about it.

Dvd's been so focused on David forgetting, he's been so angry at Amy for Clockworks. But Amy remembers.

"You remember," Dvd says aloud, so Divad can hear it, too.

"I do," Amy says, meaningfully. "You really are my little brothers. We've shared so much together. I wish I'd understood the three of you better, I wish I'd known everything. But I know who you are and I love and accept you. All of you." She holds out her hand.

Divad and Dvd look at it, uncertain. They're still angry about Clockworks. But— David forgave Amy for that, he really did forgive her. And when one of them does something—

If Divad had moved their hand first, Dvd might have resisted the action. But Divad lets Dvd decide, and Dvd— Cautiously reaches out. It's familiar and strange to hold Amy's hand without David. But they held Amy's hand plenty of times while David was away.

Amy's smile is warm and wide. She squeezes their hand, and Divad and Dvd feel their body well up with emotions. It's exactly the kind of emotions that Dvd would get angry about and Divad would suppress. But they’re trying something new, so they focus on Amy's hand and let the feeling happen.

"My brothers," Amy says, and they can see that she means it. "We're family. I want our family to be a safe place for all of us. I want us to be able to share with each other, talk about how we're feeling, and have it be okay if we're upset. It's okay that you're upset with me. I won't love you any less because of that. I'll love you more."

Dvd feels too much to answer that. But he lets Divad know what he thinks so he can say it.

"We'd like that," Divad answers for them, their voice rough. "We, um—" He wipes their eyes. "Clockworks— You left us there."

"I did," Amy says. "I'm so sorry. It was wrong of me and I won't ever do it again. I won't ever leave my brothers again, okay?"

"You can't promise that," Dvd says. What if Amy is taken again? What if they're taken again? The world isn't safe, especially not with the shit beetle in it.

"Okay," Amy says. "Then— I promise that if we're ever apart, I'll do everything I can to bring us back together again. All four of us. How does that sound?"

It's a good promise. Dvd wants to believe it so much. Being angry at Amy— Even though it's justified, even though she deserves their anger— It hurts to be angry with her.

"But you're angry with Divad that way," Kerry says. "I know I'm not supposed to talk back to your thoughts but— If being angry with each other hurts, you should stop doing it. You should forgive each other so you'll feel better. Cary and I always feel better when we forgive each other. Staying mad is stupid."

"No offense," Divad says, definitely meaning offense, "But you and Cary don't exactly have a lot to be mad about."

"That's because we don't stay mad on purpose like you two," Kerry declares. "We talk about how we feel and then we feel better and we hug. It's easy. You want to figure out how to be with David? Try doing that."

Divad gives her a skeptical look, but Dvd pushes it away. This is important. "Is that how you made David love you?" he asks.

"I didn't make David do anything," Kerry says, firmly. "All I did was keep him company and— I did what I do with Cary. I talked about how I feel and he talked about he feels and we hugged. He really helped me and I told him that until he actually heard it. You know, until the relay I thought David was really quiet but he's, like, the loudest. He's just inside-loud. I think that's why he doesn't listen to people. He can't hear us over his thoughts. Divad is really inside-loud, too. But Dvd, you're not too bad. You're like me, you're all about keeping everybody safe."

"I'm about keeping David safe," Dvd corrects.

"Yeah, well, I used to be about keeping Cary safe," Kerry says. "But now I'm in charge of Division 3's tactical combat team. That means I keep everyone safe. I wasn't really doing my job with that before and I feel bad about that because maybe I could have protected David and Melanie and Ptonomy. But I'm doing it now. We all screw up sometimes but it's okay. We just have to ask for help and keep trying."

Dvd gives Kerry a skeptical look for that, but she's so earnest about everything. Kerry doesn't really do lying. When they could read her mind, they knew that Kerry always said what she thought. The question isn't if she's lying. The question is if she's right.

And the kicker is— She must be right about some of that because David loves her.

Is it really that simple?

Dvd shares his thoughts with Divad and thinks. David made them. No— David became them, all three of them. So they never had to make friends with each other because they just— Were. They didn't have to make the effort to keep each other company because they share the same body, because they're three parts of one system. But not all systems are like them. A lot of systems don't even know they're systems, just like David didn't know. And even if they know, they don't have to get along.

Their system worked the way it did because they wanted it to. That's how their powers work, too. They wanted to to share everything so they shared everything. But they changed, they all changed and things happened and—

And now they're making a new system for the people they are now. That's what they're trying to do. And Dvd's been watching David and— Kerry's right. All she did was be with David and listen to him and talk to him about her feelings.

"She accepted him," Amy says. "That's what makes us feel safe, isn't it? Being known, for all our faults, and still accepted. And when two people accept each other as they are— Isn't that what love is?"

Yes, Dvd thinks. That's what love was for him and David before. Divad was always telling David what he did wrong, but Dvd just accepted David and loved him, and David accepted and loved him back.

"So I just have to accept David and he'll love me?" Dvd asks.

"Both of you have to accept each other," Amy corrects. "David wants to love you, but he needs to know you first. He needs to be comfortable with you. He needs to see that you accept who he is now, that you're not just trying to make him into who he was. He's very sensitive to that."

Dvd knows that's true. David is working hard to figure out who he is as a person and who he is as part of their system. He's struggling because deep down he doesn't believe he belongs to himself. He thinks he belongs to whoever wants him.

"That's a very good observation," Amy says. "That's part of why David has so much trouble saying no. He doesn't think he's worth anything himself, so he can only be worth what he is to others. And he's so afraid they'll reject him, he'll do anything for them. I feel that way sometimes. I think a lot of people do. Do you feel that way?"

"Me?" Dvd asks, surprised. "I'm not afraid."

"You're totally afraid," Kerry declares. "You're afraid that even if you accept David, he won't accept you back."

"Kerry," Amy cautions.

"I'm right, though," Kerry insists. "And Divad's afraid no one will ever accept him. And—"

"Kerry," Amy says again, firmly. "You're abusing the relay."

"Oh," Kerry says, backing down. "Sorry, Davids."

Dvd realizes then that Divad pulled their hand away from Amy. He tries to push past Divad's resistance to take it again, but Divad keeps resisting. When Dvd pushes again— Divad abruptly leaves their body.

"Hey!" Dvd calls after him. "What the hell?"

Divad doesn't answer. He just walks away and goes down the steps. That's the second time Divad has just up and left their body with no warning. At least this time Dvd can keep them from hitting their head. For the alter that's supposed to be in charge of their body, he's being absolutely reckless with it.

Kerry looks guilty. Whatever Divad is thinking now, it looks like Kerry hit a nerve. Maybe a whole bundle of nerves.

"Divad's really mean," Kerry sighs. "When I met you guys I thought he was the nice one and you were the mean one, but it's the other way around."

"Divad thinks of himself as David's logic," Amy says. "Pure logic can be very cruel."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dvd grumbles. He's had to defend David from Divad's 'logic' for decades. "If you ask me, he's more like David's unbearable judgemental asshole."

Kerry snort-laughs and then covers her mouth. "He totally is," she whispers.

Amy visibly admits her own frustration. "He's trying," she says. "And he judges himself just as harshly as he judges everyone else."

"So you think I'm the nice one?" Dvd asks Kerry, intrigued.

"Well, you're not as nice as David," Kerry says. "You can be kind of a jerk. But you really do love David a lot, just like I love Cary. If Cary forgot who I was and got brainwashed— I'd be kind of a jerk about it, too."

Dvd looks at Kerry, really looks at her. He looks at people a lot, but only to assess them as threats. He doesn't look at them to— Engage with them. But Kerry was the first person who interested him when all this started, even though he was using talking to her as an excuse to try to get the crown off. And then she punched him really hard and kicked him in the shins.

But Dvd gets that. He's done a lot worse than that to people for threatening David. So Kerry knocking him around because she thinks he's a threat to David, he gets that. He respects it. She loves David the way he loves David, but more importantly— She loves Now David the way Dvd needs to love Now David.

What was it Amy said?

"You and David need to get to know each other," Amy says, reminding him. "You need to be comfortable with each other. And he needs to know you're accepting him for who he is now, not who you want him to be."

"You know," Kerry says, thoughtful. "You're a lot like me. If I think something, I just say it. So why do you need to hide your thoughts from David if you're just going to say what you think anyway?"

Dvd's instinct is to say that he has to guard his thoughts from David because that's how they work. But they don't work that way anymore.

"I'm sure hearing your thoughts would mean a lot to David," Amy says. "There's nothing more intimate than sharing your thoughts with someone. If you love him as he is now— He'll know you accept him. He'll get to know you and that will help him accept you."

Dvd considers that. It feels risky. If he thinks the wrong things, he'll upset David.

"I was just talking to David about that earlier," Amy says, wryly. "How our whole family was afraid to admit how we felt. But knowing what I know now, I realized— David always knew. He heard everything we thought. But we wouldn't admit our feelings, so— He must have felt very bad about that. Like we were lying to him, when really we were lying to ourselves. Is that true?"

"Yeah," Dvd admits. "David— The things he heard— They ate away at him. After Mom died— He heard you guys thinking things about him that you thought about her, and that—" Their throat tightens. That was the beginning of the end, looking back. A few terrible years later, David gave up on being in charge. He didn't want to talk to Amy and Dad anymore, didn't want to listen to their disappointment and sadness and anger while they lied to his face. He knew— That they would be relieved if he died.

"Oh," Amy says, quietly devastated.

"It's not just Clockworks," Dvd admits. "David doesn't remember but— You and Mom and Dad hurt David a lot. You thought he was crazy and he wasn't. He begged you for help and you forced him to take medication he didn't need and—"

"Dvd," Amy says, sadly. "We didn't just do those things to David. We did them to all three of you. David can't remember that, but you and Divad, you can."

Their eyes are wet again, but Dvd's getting used to that. "Yeah," he says, and wipes at them.

"I wish I could apologize to David for that," Amy says. "But it wouldn't mean anything to him because that's not what he remembers. But I can apologize to you for hurting you. For thinking— Terrible things about you. For making you take medication you didn't need. But most of all, I'm sorry for not listening to you. I should have listened, I should have believed you. You're my brother."

Dvd wipes at their eyes, then grabs his napkin and blows their nose with it. He doesn't know why this is— It's David who— Being alone in their body—

"It's just how you feel," Amy says. "There doesn't need to be a reason. It's okay to feel whatever you feel. So what do you feel?"

Dvd feels— Beneath his anger, he feels—

Awful. Sad, hurt, betrayed, guilty. Terrified and grieving and angry, furiously angry, and— And he wants all that to be David’s, he wants to be only David's anger so he can protect him, but Dvd shared everything with David and that means— It means he shared every bad thing that happened to him. It means he shared so much pain. And now David doesn't remember anything and Dvd has to hold it all alone.

"You're not holding it alone," Amy says. "If you need to share it with someone, if you can't share it with David or Divad— Can you share it with us?"

Dvd doesn't know. Amy and Mom and Dad caused so much of that pain. Them and the doctors, the shit beetle used them to torture David, to torture all of them.

"If I'd known the truth," Amy says, leaning forward. "I swear to you, if I'd known the truth— I wish Mom and Dad had told me. But they were too afraid. You know, you remember. Was that what happened?"

Dvd nods. He wipes their eyes again. "They told us to never tell anyone ever. That if we did— People would hurt us. They taught David before he made us, and we knew because he knew. But—"

"But what?" Amy encourages.

"They were afraid of us," Dvd admits. "Of David. Our powers. They were afraid we would hurt someone because we were a mutant and crazy. That's why they didn't want to listen to us. David heard it and he told us."

"Oh Dvd," Amy sighs. "I'm so, so sorry."

Their parents were afraid for them and of them and— They had no idea what to do with a kid as powerful as David, much less one with a mental parasite. Their real parents should have kept them even if it was dangerous. Being a lone mutant was even more dangerous. If their parents had to leave them with someone, they should have left them at Summerland. Summerland would have kept David safe and helped him so he wouldn't have ever been broken.

"I wish they had," Amy says. "But Summerland wasn't founded until after you came to live with us. And that time— I've learned about it from the mainframe. It was a terrible time to be a mutant. It was— Global genocide. Hiding you with us must have been the only way they had to keep you alive."

"It wasn't fair," Dvd says, angry through his tears. "They left us. They abandoned us, they— And all we've ever— Everyone's been afraid of us, always, because we're crazy, because we're powerful, because we're different and sick and— And it's not fair! We didn't ask to be what we are! We didn't ask to be tortured! But Divad always blames us like everyone else and it's not fair!"

"He took their side?" Amy asks.

"Divad always takes everyone else's side," Dvd grumbles. "Everything's always our fault. Well fuck him and fuck everyone." Then he feels bad. "But not you guys, I guess."

Kerry offers him her napkin. He takes it and wipes their face and blows their nose again.

"Summerland wasn't around yet," Kerry says. "But me and Cary were. I wish your parents had left you with us. But we didn't know we were mutants yet. Everyone still thought Cary was crazy because he talked to me all the time but I wouldn't come out in front of other people. Cary— He protected me from a lot of bad things. That's why I have to protect him now, because I let all the bad things happen to him instead of me. But it wasn't my fault and it wasn't your fault. Bad things happened because— Bad people made them happen. And now— It's up to us to make good things happen because we're good people and that's what we do."

Dvd hasn't ever thought of himself as a good person. He's barely even thought of himself as a person. He was just— A stress response. The bad things only happened to David, not him, and it was his job to keep David safe. It still is.

"Yeah," Kerry agrees. "But you're a David, too. Maybe David wants to protect you sometimes, just like you want to be in charge sometimes. Maybe— You don't have to be anything except Dvd. And you can decide what that means, like David is deciding what being David means and I'm deciding what being Kerry means."

"Maybe," Dvd sniffs. All of that stuff sounds— He wasn't a person, just a stress response. And the bad things— The bad things were only supposed to happen to David. But bad things happened to all of them anyway. And David didn't make them, he became them. He became them.

He—

"No," he whispers, denying it even though he can’t. And then the tears really start pouring out. He can't stop them, he can't—

And then he's in Kerry's arms, like when they were mourning David, and Amy is there with her hand on their back, soothing him as the pain just— rips itself out of him. He fights it but he can't stop it, it's too strong. God, it hurts so much, so much. He doesn't want it, he doesn't, he doesn't.

He wails and rips himself out of Kerry's arms and slams at the table, knocking everything on it to the ground. If they had their powers, he would blast this whole place apart and keep going and going until he made the whole world pay. But this stupid crown— He slams at the table again and again until Kerry and Amy pull him away and hold him as he screams and rages and then finally, finally gives out.

"Dvd," Amy soothes, "It's okay, shhh, it's okay."

Dvd struggles to breathe. Their chest is heaving and everything hurts and this isn't supposed to happen to him, it's not supposed to be his pain, it's David's, it's David's, but David forgot. David forgot.

So it's Dvd's pain, now, just Dvd's. He doesn't want it but it has nowhere else to go.

Chapter 70: Day 10: New system, new notebook. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

Dvd is bundled up on the sofa, sitting between Amy and Kerry and working his way through an entire box of tissues. He can't stop crying. He's tried but he can't. Their body is just— Too full of feelings and Dvd can't stop them now that they've found a way out.

It's not fair. This is supposed to be David's job, all this pain, all this crying and sadness. David's the one who's supposed to need comforting, not Dvd. But Dvd's in charge and he's alone in their body and it's awful, it's the worst, he doesn't want any of it. But Ptonomy said he needs to stay in their body and let the feelings happen. Ptonomy said it, and— Dvd isn't a coward like Divad. He's not going to dump their body and run away. It wouldn't be fair to make David clean up his mess, so Dvd has to clean it up himself.

So far cleaning it up mostly means crying and hugs. The hug part is— Not awful, even if it's hard to accept them, even from Kerry and Amy. If it was David hugging him, he could accept that easy, but— David can't hug him. David can't get in their body with him and share with him. David can only sit in the loveseat and watch him and look utterly lost about all of this, because David knows about but doesn't remember the things Dvd is so upset about, because the shit beetle ripped all those memories out of him and they're never coming back.

Another sob cracks from their throat.

'I’m upsetting him,' David thinks. 'Maybe I should—' He looks to Lenny beside him, but she can't see him. "Um, Lenny?"

"Nah," Lenny says. "You stay put. Right, Amy?"

"Absolutely," Amy says, looking over to David. "It's okay for Dvd to be upset and for you to be upset and— For me to be upset."

That really alarms David. He was so focused on Dvd being upset that he missed that Amy is upset, too. "Right," he says, though he's struggling. He's trying to accept that idea but it's hard for him, it's really hard. Upsetting Amy, upsetting Dvd, it makes him feel terrible. ‘All of this is my fault.’

"It's not your fault," Lenny says, firmly. "Remember what Ptonomy said? Shame is your coping mechanism, just like Dvd's anger. But underneath all that anger is a lot of sad. Do your check-in. What's under the shame?"

David does some breathing to steady himself. "Um." He concentrates. 'More shame. I'm just— A shame onion.'

Dvd sob-laughs at that. "Peel the layers and everyone cries."

"That's— Really awful," David says, but he's bleakly amused. "I'm sorry," he says, unable not to. "If I could just remember—"

"It wouldn't matter," Amy says, firmly. "Even if you remembered, David— Dvd was there with you. It happened to him, too. Both of you need to process what happened. So does Divad."

"Good luck with that," Dvd mutters and grabs another tissue. Ptonomy and Cary are trying to talk to Divad now, at the far end of the room. Divad might have to listen, but he's not answering back. If Divad could walk away from their system entirely he would, Dvd knows it.

"Divad's upset, too," Amy says. "We all have a lot to be upset about."

Dvd fights the urge to be angry at Amy. She should be upset for the terrible things she thought about David. Anger would feel so good right now, so much better than all this— Awful. But being angry at Amy will make it harder for David to accept him. Fixing their system is more important to Dvd than anything else. So he's going to not be angry even if it kills him.

Ptonomy comes over. "Divad isn't ready to talk, but he’s agreed to stay with Cary and Oliver."

"All Davids present and accounted for," Lenny says, with a lazy salute.

"It's a team effort," Ptonomy says. "And this team is doing great. Dvd, David, you're both doing great. I know it might not feel like it, but you are."

"It feels like shit," Dvd says.

David reluctantly nods. "Yeah," he says.

Ptonomy just smiles. "Suppressed emotions and suppressed memories are what make your system unstable. Engaging with those emotions, with the memories behind them, with how you feel now— That's exactly what you need to do to get better." He sobers. "But I know it's hard. You've both earned a rest, so you're done with session work for today. But the rules still apply. No time alone. If you need me I'm here, but talk to your friends first. Talk to each other. Build your new system together. Remember, you need to sleep together in your body tonight. Use the time for whatever you feel will help you do that."

"But— I could keep going," David offers. "We could— My possession trauma—"

"It's too big to do it all at once," Ptonomy reminds him. "If we do any more, it’ll be too much."

"You're not good at knowing your limits," Lenny says. "The cruise director knows best, remember? We'll do another round tomorrow."

David rubs his hands together, nervous. 'I’m not ready. Even thinking about it—'

"It'll be okay," Lenny assures him. "Let us worry about it. Trust us to make it okay for you."

David gives a longing look at their body, wishing he was inside it so he wasn't an untouchable mental projection. "Okay," he echoes.

"Trust me, you don't want to be inside our body right now," Dvd tells him, and blows their nose.

"I'm used to crying," David says.

"Dvd needs to be in your system's body to process his emotions fully," Ptonomy says. "He needs to do that to heal. You can't suffer for him and you can't heal for him. He has to do those things himself."

David sighs. ‘If I could just remember—‘ He feels so ashamed about not remembering.

"We know you can't,” Ptonomy says. “But it’s okay. Just talk to each other, see what that does for both of you."

"Okay," David says.

Ptonomy looks to Dvd, and Dvd nods.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "I’m gonna take a break. I won't go far. If anyone needs me, you can reach me through the relay or the mainframe. I still need to have a session with Divad so he'll be ready for tonight. Let me know as soon as he's up for that."

"Aye-aye, cap'n," Lenny says, with another lazy salute.

Ptonomy goes to check in with Cary one more time, then leaves the lab.

David and Dvd look at each other.

"I'm sorry about all of this," David says. "Making you and putting you through— All of this, and—"

"You didn't make us," Dvd says. "Remember? You're a David, too."

"But—"

"You're a David," Dvd insists. "Three of us makes one David. David made you just like he made me. So it's not your fault that we exist, get it?"

David rubs his forehead. "But I just— I just accepted that I'm David."

"There's three Davids," Lenny says, and starts ticking them off on her fingers. "First David is baby David. Second David is identity David. Third David is— Second David 2.0, new and improved with a fresh set of memories."

David struggles with that. "So I am David, but— Not— Baby David?"

"The earliest memories you have," Amy says. "The ones from before your brothers existed. They were— Inherited from the David that all three of you used to be."

"Because of Farouk?" David asks.

Dvd shrugs. "You got the short straw in the DID lottery. You got our original memories and our original name. That’s why you also got the shit beetle. Sorry, man."

David leans back in the loveseat. "So— I have— Three people's memories?"

"Probably four," Lenny says. "Every part of the cow, remember? So you're, like, all the Davids. The Davidest David. Maximum-strength David. All-purpose—"

"Okay, okay," David says, reluctantly amused and definitely exasperated. "Every part of the cow," he mutters. He looks to Dvd. "And you're— the Dvd part of Baby David?"

"Yeah," Dvd says. “And Divad’s his part.”

‘God, this is so weird,’ David thinks. “The short straw,” he echoes. “But— Shouldn’t Farouk know that? That I’m not— Original David?”

“As far as he’s concerned, DID is just a delusion,” Dvd says. “Same name, same memories, same person. Me and Divad are just your delusions.”

“You think Farouk was trying to make you whole, right?” Lenny says. “So giving you Divad and Dvd’s memories, that’s him glueing you back together. But you’re not just memories. You’re you.”

‘I’ve been three versions of me using four people’s memories, how can I know who I am?’ David thinks, slightly manic.

“Hey,” Lenny says, offended. “I’m not even sure how many Lennys I’ve been, but it doesn’t matter because I’m Lenny now. And, like, everyone changes all the time. Asking who you are, that’s— The ship of Theseus.”

“The what?” David asks.

“I read about it in the mainframe,” Lenny says. “So there’s this guy’s boat and it’s old so he fixes it. One plank at a time. So when all the planks are new, is it still the same boat?”

“Since when did you read philosophy?” Dvd asks, suspicious.

“Hey, I gotta understand all this crazy shit so I can help you,” Lenny replies.

“Dvd,” Amy asks, “Did you learn that from Divad’s philosophy class?”

“I listened sometimes,” Dvd defends. “When I wasn’t busy keeping us safe. The only danger in that class was if we snored when we fell asleep.”

“David, you don’t remember that?” Amy asks.

“I remember taking the class as Divad,” David says. “But I guess— I didn’t learn it as David.” ‘Because I was too broken to learn.’

“You weren’t really up for learning,” Dvd admits. “But Divad being happy—“ Dvd hates admitting it, hates that he has to try to patch things up with Divad so their system can heal. But he has to. “Divad being happy made you happy. And you did what you could to help both of us. You’re the only one who can read minds, remember? So you listened for both of us. For threats and, ah—“

“Cheating,” David realizes. “I helped us cheat.”

“Hey, we had a monster in our head and we had to take medication we didn’t need,” Dvd defends. “Cheating is how we survived.”

“Okay but what’s the answer?” Kerry asks. “The ship thing? Is it the same ship?”

“There is no answer,” Lenny says. “It’s a thought experiment.”

“If there’s no answer, what’s the point?” Kerry asks, annoyed.

“Cause we’re the ship,” Lenny tells her. “Everybody’s the ship, even if you don’t lose your whole body and get stuck in an android or have a psycho screwing with your head. Our cells and shit, all that changes, right?”

Kerry thinks about that. “Tissue replacement rate? Some cells are replaced every few days. But some parts of our body stay the same. Even if you live a really long time, you’ll still have half your original cardiomyocyte heart cells. Our brains aren’t supposed to change much, because neurogenesis remodels the hippocampus circuits and degrades established memories.”

When David finishes processing that, he doesn’t like it. “Healing my brain will make me forget the, what, five things I actually remember?”

“Divad knows what he’s doing,” Dvd says, reluctantly defending him. “The last thing he wants is for you to forget. Your memory’s a mess, but the new stuff is fine, right?”

“Better than fine,” David admits. ‘My old memories don’t feel as real as my new ones. Not just because most of them aren’t real. Farouk being in my head, all the fear and trauma and— God, he was inside me my whole life—‘ He looks like he might be sick again.

David’s possession trauma is the worst. It’s fucked David up bad. The shit beetle must be absolutely loving this because David— Baby David knew about the monster even before he became the three of them. David remembered all of that the most, so the shit beetle made him remember the least. If David had been able to hear them when he found out the truth, maybe they could have helped him. But finding out about his system afterward only made him worse.

Fuck the shit beetle, Dvd thinks. He’s never going to stop being angry at the shit beetle.

“He’s out and he’s not getting back in,” Dvd reminds him. “Our mind is our own, he doesn’t get to touch it anymore. We don’t belong to him, we belong to ourselves.”

“Sounds like my foundation,” David says. He starts to look a little less green.

“Hey, we’re supposed to make one, right?” Dvd says. “Divad said he wants it.”

“He did,” Lenny confirms. “Dvd can write it, he’s in charge. What do you think? Your notebook or a new one?”

David thinks about that. ‘I want Dvd to be part of my new self, but— I’m not just— A stress response. I don’t want to be that. I don’t want to— Lose who I am, I barely know who I am, I’ve lost— I’m still just scraps, just— Whatever Farouk wanted me to be. But— If we’re all Davids, if I’m just— an identity with someone else’s memories, if—‘

Dvd’s not listening to that anymore. “Never mind him, I want a notebook,” he insists. “David’s notebook is for his stuff, I want one for our stuff. System stuff. New system, new notebook, right?”

David likes that idea. “Yeah,” he agrees, un-tensing. “New system, new notebook.”

“I got this,” Kerry says, and gets up and brings back another notebook and pen. She hands it to Dvd. “We’re all getting notebooks, this is great!”

Dvd is starting to understand why David likes Kerry so much. She’s just so— Herself.

He opens the notebook. The pen feels awkward in their hand. Besides writing his name on a card, he hasn’t written anything in over a decade. But he did his fair share of covering for David before Divad took charge. He’s just rusty.

“Hold on, I just gotta—“ Dvd writes out the alphabet and some practice sentences. The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog. Fuck the shit beetle. We are three David brothers. Fuck the shit beetle, he adds again because truly, deeply, fuck the shit beetle.

He moves to tear out the page, but David reaches for it. “Wait, is— Is this something you do?”

This is exactly the kind of moment that's enough to send Dvd into a fury. There aren’t even words for how agonizing it is for David to not know these things, to have to ask. But Dvd won’t let himself be angry at David so all he can do is let the tears fall. “Yeah,” he says, and sniffs. “It’s, um— We had to cover for you, so— We practiced your handwriting. And it helped, with— When we covered. It was—”

There’s so much he can’t express about those times, so much it’s just impossible to tell. They shared so much, all the pain but also— The ways they helped each other, the little things they did to get through every long day. And some days were so long. But they got through them together. David took the pain and they covered for him, they helped him. That wasn’t just how they worked, it was how they survived.

But David took too much, and— Covering for David wasn’t good for David, it wasn’t good for their system. Pretending to be him, that made it easier for the shit beetle to keep torturing them because no one knew how bad it really was. Maybe— If the doctors knew David had DID, maybe they would have realized he didn’t have schizophrenia.

He’s really wants to send that thought to Divad to show him he’s not the only one who can be painfully logical. But he’s trying to not punish Divad anymore. It’s not easy but he’s trying. Just like David is trying to not feel like all of this is his fault. And Divad is trying, too, probably, even though he’s the worst at trying and is the worst, period.

Dvd wipes at their face. “Anyway. Yeah, it’s something we do.”

“Could you—“ David starts. “Would it be okay if you left it in? Or—“ He meets Dvd’s eyes. “Could I have it?”

Dvd’s noticed David collecting things. Not just ideas. He has their rocket lamp and he squirrelled away the family photo he took out of Amy’s album and Cary's scans and the cards with their names. And now he wants this. It’s nothing to Dvd, he’s done it countless times over the years. But it means something to David.

“Sure,” Dvd says, and carefully pulls the sheet from the notebook. He puts it on the table in front of David, and David stares at it and— Doesn’t think anything, but feels a hell of a lot.

“Um,” David says. “You can— I have a few things— By the lamp.” He gestures to the small table by his bed.

Their bed, Dvd thinks. Because they’re going to sleep in it together tonight.

“Let’s do that foundation first,” Lenny says.

"Yeah," Dvd says. His handwriting's still clumsy, but he's got this. "System foundation," he says and writes. "You gave us the first piece, David. We have to stay alive for each other."

David finally tears his eyes away from the sheet. He visibly collects himself. "Yeah, that's— A good place to start."

"Just put down your ideas for now," Amy suggests. "You can go over it with Divad when he's feeling better."

Dvd rolls his eyes, because Divad's been a judgemental jerk for decades, Dvd doesn't see him stopping now. But whatever. They need a foundation and Dvd is making it happen.

"Our mind is our own," Dvd says and writes. "We belong to ourselves. Yeah?"

"Yeah," David echoes.

"Ptonomy said we should add something from yours," Dvd continues. "We've lost things we'll never get back. But we're here and we're not alone. That okay?"

"I guess you guys need it too?" David asks, sadly.

"We need it even more than you," Dvd says, plainly. He writes it in. David not remembering is agonizing torture for all of them in different ways. "But this foundation is for all of us, not just me and Divad. We're gonna share it. It's ours, like our new system is ours and our body is ours." Dvd doesn't care what horrors the shit beetle is planning for them. They have David and their body back and Dvd is never letting either of them get taken away ever again.

"We share everything," David says, like he's trying out the words. "Maybe— That should be in our foundation, too. And— I want us to have healthy multiplicity."

Dvd likes the first better than the second, but— "Okay, yeah," he says, and adds them both. "We're all Davids, right?"

"Add that, too," David says, engaging more now. "We're all Davids."

"This is gonna be a big foundation," Dvd jokes.

"It is for three people," David says. "Oh, add that. We're all Davids and we're all people. And we're brothers. And we're all going to get better."

Dvd adds all that and looks over what they got. A lot of their system foundation comes from Divad and Dvd's own words. Between that and the writing practice— Most of the things and ideas that David has collected so far have been from people outside of their system, but this really is theirs. And as horrible as it feels to not have David remember—

David really wants them to be part of his new self, his new life. They didn't have a choice about existing together, they shouldn't need to choose, but— David is choosing them.

Dvd's never been chosen by anyone before.

The tears are back, but— Their face is smiling. He's— Happy? He remembers everything but he can't remember ever just feeling happy.

"Dvd?" David says, concerned.

And now David is worried for him. It's ridiculous, but that makes Dvd— Even happier.

"Hold on, I just gotta—" Dvd says, and he lays their body back before stepping out of it. He goes over to David and hugs him, holds him tight, because he'll go back in, he'll let all the awful feelings happen, but he's not going to see David caring about him and not hug him.

David tenses in surprise, and then— He holds Dvd back. Not hesitant or trying too hard to help, but because they both need it.

'My brother,' David thinks, trying to accept the idea, and it's not so hard for him this time. Dvd didn't expect his writing practice to make such a difference, but somehow that's what did it.

The rocket lamp, the family photo, the brain scans, the name cards, Dvd's writing practice— They’re evidence. Little things that prove that they exist, that he’s David, that Dvd and Divad are his brothers.

David can't remember how their system worked, how they survived together, it's all just— Fear. To David, their whole past is just blank fear and false memories. There's nothing for him to hold on to. Dvd doesn't want to tell him the bad things, but he can tell him— The little things. And he needs to do more than just tell. Without memories they're only stories. He needs to show him, give him proof, because proof makes the stories real.

Dvd gives David one last squeeze before letting him go and stepping back into their body. David's confused; he doesn't understand what just happened because he can't. And it's okay that he can't.

It hurts to give up the hope that David will remember. That hope kept Dvd going for so long. David always needed him and Dvd didn't need anything because he always had David. But the memories are gone. And now— David is choosing what he wants and he wants Dvd. David wants him and Dvd is the one who needs David. Needing David hurts, but being wanted makes Dvd happier than he ever thought he could be.

That's not how their system worked, but that's how it's working now.

Chapter 71: Day 10: She doesn't trust herself to have him. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd doesn't go to pet puppies in the park, but she doesn't return to Division 3. She takes a few hours to walk the city and sober up, to clear her head, to figure out what she's going to do. She has lunch in a cafe and is-- Alone.

She's alone.

There was a time when alone was all she wanted to be. She didn't need anyone, and why would she? Life is war and love makes her weak.

She's not supposed to believe that anymore. She took it out of her foundation. But she still believes it. Loving David made her weak. Loving David made her a victim: of Farouk, of David, of herself, future and present. She can't stop being a victim because she's trapped in this nightmare with everyone else. Syd knows that Clark is right. Farouk will never let her walk away.

It should be easy to stop loving someone. But she hated her mother and all that hate couldn't save her from needing her mother's love.

The year he was gone-- David doesn't remember that year, but she does. She lived every single long day of that year, waiting for him, worrying for him, wondering if it was something she did, if she drove him away, if he was dead, if he escaped the orb and stayed away because he just didn't want her anymore, because why would he want her? Why would anyone want someone like her?

She can't forgive David for a whole list of crimes. Not just violating her mind and her body, but lying to her about what he is and what he did and what he knew, leaving her again and again.

He didn't choose to leave her, he was taken. She knows that. She knows those aren't his crimes. He was just a pawn caught between her own future self and Farouk, both of them manipulating him for their own dark ends. She knows that she has every reason to forgive him for everything.

But she's angry anyway. She wants to walk away, but far more than that, she wants to punish him so he'll never leave her again. She wants to make him go back to how he was, sick and powerless and human. It was easy for her to love someone like that, in a place like Clockworks, because she knew she was only there as a visitor and David was never going to leave.

If he hadn't kissed her--

She could have walked away from Clockworks and left David there and that would have been the cruelest punishment of all. Without that kiss, David wouldn't have been brought to Summerland and Farouk would have kept on eating him alive. He would have drained David and tortured him until he found a way to take David over completely and then Farouk would have become the god he desperately wants to be.

And then the world really would have ended. But she wouldn't be caught at the heart of it.

And that's really what this is about — her choice — because no matter what David never had a choice. He didn't choose to be a host, he didn't chose to be tortured, he didn't choose to be changed, he didn't choose to forget. Farouk chose everything for him. Farouk made the David she loved, and that-- It disgusts her. She's disgusted at herself for loving an illusion, a monster's trick. The David she loved wasn't real, so what is he?

He's a world killer. A sick little boy with too much power. An extremely powerful mutant who could potentially destroy the world if he wanted to, or if she hurt his feelings real bad.

Farouk's words, Clark's words. Clark told her to stop trusting her enemies more than her friends. But how can she? She doesn't have friends.

She has nothing and no one. She's not capable of love and she doesn't deserve it. She's a ghost living in a haunted house. All she's ever had is herself and that's why the only thing that's ever mattered is her own survival. All the work she did for Division 3, helping mutants? It isn't just that she's a hypocrite for being afraid of David. It's that all that work was Melanie's dream, not hers. And now that Melanie is gone, the dream is over. Syd's illusions about herself are over. She should never have tried to be more than she is.

All of that feels true. All of it makes perfect sense. And yet--

And yet.

She's still going back.

Not because of Farouk, but because she still loves David.

It's ridiculous that she can feel all these things at once for one person. Love and fear and frustration and anger and forgiveness and grief and disgust and longing and regret and confusion and-- And that's the thing. That's the thing, because even without his powers David's always made her feel so much. She tried to deny it. Even in Clockworks, she tried not to feel the things he made her feel.

She was afraid of him even when she thought he was helpless.

She told herself it was safe to love him because he was sick. She'd leave him and those feelings behind when she left Clockworks. But it wasn’t safe. Once she loved him she couldn’t bear to leave him behind. She needed him to get better so he could leave with her. She needed to hold on to him even though they couldn't touch.

She never wanted to be untouchable. She wanted to kiss him for real, not in illusions of shadows and reflections. And that's why she didn't stop him. That's why she let it happen even though she knew it was a mistake. And it was such a mistake. Loving David was such an enormous mistake.

She still can’t stop loving him. She still can’t stand the thought of leaving him behind. She doesn't want to make peace with him and walk away, she wants his adoration and his passion back. She wants to love him as he is and she wants him to keep loving her, because he's the only one who's ever truly loved her. He's the only one who's ever touched her, skin to skin, and-- It was still an illusion but it felt so real.

When he came to her that night, strange and urgent-- She could have sent him away. She could have said no, and even in that fevered state he would have done what she told him, because he can't refuse her and he never could.

They had sex that night because she wanted him to touch her, she wanted what his powers gave them. She wanted that boy with too much power bent to her command, to her pleasure, to her desires. She loved that he was dangerous, she loved that he would do anything for her, including the fact that he could potentially destroy the world if she wanted him to.

And that's--

That's the real reason she keeps punishing him and pushing him away.

She already knows what she's capable of without him. What's she capable of with him?

David’s so powerful and so vulnerable. She doesn't trust herself to have him.

All the people that David’s ever loved-- He still loves them no matter how much they’ve hurt him. He's can't stop loving them any more than she can stop loving him or her mother. It doesn't matter if she deserves love, if she feels capable of giving it. David loves her anyway. There's nothing sensible about David or his love. That's why she fell in love with him in the first place, because he saw how untouchable she was and he loved her anyway.

David's love is as powerful as everything else about him, but it's not a power he uses, it's a power he gives. David gave Syd so much love she has power over him that no one else does, whether she wants it or not.

And she wants it. She's terrified of that love and everything that comes with it, but she wants it. And maybe she's the last person who should have it but it isn't up to her, any more than it's up to any mutant if they should have the powers they were gifted by genetics or luck or divine whim. That's what Melanie always said. What matters is what they do with it. What matters is if they have the tools and support to handle those gifts responsibly. And even if Melanie's gone-- She was as close to a friend as Syd's ever had. So Syd should trust what she left behind.

Life is war and Syd has to survive. But she can accept help. She accepted Melanie's help with her powers and her haphephobia, and now what she needs is help with David. She’s going to accept the gift of his love and accept the tools and support she needs to handle it responsibly. She’s going to learn to be responsible with David and everything that comes with him.

She has a lot of ideas in her foundation but she doesn’t have to keep them. Ptonomy told her that and he's trying to be her friend, so she should trust him. If she needs to change to survive, then that’s what she’ll do. She doesn’t want to be a victim anymore, including a victim of herself. She doesn’t want to be her own worst enemy or the kind of monster that would let innocent people die out of pure spite.

So what does she want her foundation to be?

She’ll keep what works, but her foundation is full of other people’s poison. David loves her. That's an undeniable fact. She has to accept it. Everything that works against that truth has to go or she’ll never survive.

So her new foundation is: Life is war and she has to survive. She can accept help. And— She is loved.

Even if it’s just one person, one single palm tree on her lonely island, even if she doesn’t deserve it and it makes her weak and it’s messy and painful and dangerous and a mistake— She is loved.

The untouchable Sydney Barrett is loved.

So she’s going back. And she’s going to accept the help she needs.

§

Syd's not sure what to expect when she gets back. She stops by her room, freshens up and braces herself, then heads to the lab. But no one's there. There's a rumpled blanket on the sofa and a wastebasket full of used tissues so she knows David had another rough morning, but that's normal by now.

She finds them all in the garden and she stops. Everyone's together: David, Amy, Lenny, Cary, Kerry, Oliver; everyone but Ptonomy. And they're all relaxed. Whatever breakdown David had earlier, it seems to be over now. Usually by this point in the day David is a wreck, but he's sitting with Lenny and Kerry and Amy and he's good, he's fine. His eyes are swollen but he's relaxed, he's talking, he's--

Not David. That's not David. She listens and she realizes: that's Dvd. And there's a space between Dvd and Lenny, enough space for-- David. And Divad must be up here somewhere, too. She looks and sees a space between Cary and Oliver, a space that Cary is talking to. But no one's relaying back to Cary or Kerry.

No one has to. Because they have the relay.

Syd takes a step back, sucker-punched, and Oliver looks over at her. He says something to Cary and Cary turns, and then everyone else turns.

Syd thought she was ready. But she’s not.

She's down the stairs before anyone can stand up to follow her. She pushes through the door and jabs at the elevator button, and thank god the elevator is already on the way up. She jabs the button again, needing to be gone before anyone can catch up to her, and the door opens and-- It's Ptonomy.

"Syd," Ptonomy says, with mild surprise that's probably feigned. "I've been looking for you." He doesn't get out of the elevator, but steps aside and gestures for her to come in. She presses the floor for the lab and only breathes out when the doors close and the elevator goes down.

"It's okay," Ptonomy says, calmly. "They're staying up there. You were gone a long time, we were starting to worry."

"I had to think," Syd says, wrapping her arms around herself, standing as far away from Ptonomy as she can. She was ready to do the work, she was, but she wasn't ready for that.

Ptonomy doesn't press her. It's blindingly obvious that she's not ready to talk.

When they get back to the lab, Ptonomy gives her time to settle. Syd doesn't know where to sit because everything reminds her of David. Finally she sits on her cot. It's next to David's bed, but it's the one thing in this lab that's hers alone.

Ptonomy sits on Kerry's cot. "I'm sorry, I wanted to warn you before you walked into that."

"When did they--" Syd asks, but doesn't finish. Oliver saw her, heard her thoughts. Oliver tells Ptonomy when something worries him. No doubt her reaction worried him.

"Just after you left this morning," Ptonomy says. "I wanted to wait until you were ready, but-- Dvd and Divad needed to be heard. And it was the right decision because today would have been a lot harder without Cary and Kerry."

"And me?" Syd asks, hating how vulnerable she sounds.

"That's up to the Davids," Ptonomy says. "And it's up to you. You need to talk to them and all of you need to agree."

Syd scoffs.

"I know," Ptonomy allows. "None of the Davids are ready to share with you right now. But remember what I said about trust being a two-way street. If you open up to them, they'll open up to you. So how about you practice by opening up to me?"

Syd sighs. It felt so easy, making the decision to accept help, but actually accepting help isn't easy at all. How does David do it? How does he get himself through his own resistance and accept help even when it feels impossible?

Mantras. He uses mantras. He used them in Clockworks and he's using them now.

"I need a mantra," Syd decides. "I did a lot of thinking and-- I ready to accept help. But-- It's hard."

"And you think a mantra will help you, like it helps David?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd nods.

"Let's give it a try," Ptonomy says, pleased. "David's mantras are about acceptance. Acceptance of himself and of the things that will help him change. What do you need to accept, and what will help you change?"

"I changed my foundation," Syd says, because she feels like that needs to come first. "I realized-- It doesn't matter if I deserve love. David loves me." It feels good to say it out loud. "And I want to be with him. So I can't-- I took out the ideas that were making me hurt him."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, taking that in. "So what's your foundation now?"

Syd takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Life is war and I have to survive. I can accept help. I am loved."

Ptonomy considers that. "So-- 'Pain makes us strong. I'm a victim. I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it.' Those were making you hurt David?"

"And 'Love makes me weak,'" Syd adds. "You were right. My mother put those ideas into me and they're not mine. I don't want them. I don't want to be what she was. I don't want to give those ideas to David. I don't want to hurt him. And--" This is harder. "I realized-- I'm afraid of-- Having David. His power, his vulnerability-- I don't know how to-- Be responsible for-- What he gives me. That's why-- I won't forgive him. Because--"

"If you forgive him, if you accept his love, that makes you responsible for him," Ptonomy finishes for her.

"I have so much power over him," Syd says. "He did things for me that-- He shouldn't ever have done, but he did them for me. Because he loves me and trusts me more than himself. More than-- He trusted me so much he went back to the monster who ruined his life because I told him to. And I was angry at him when he stopped, even after Amy, because-- I wanted him to obey me instead of protecting himself from an abusive monster." Farouk is such a vile monster. And Syd trusted the monster more than she trusted David. She trusted her enemies more than her friends and they all paid for it.

"That's a lot of power," Ptonomy agrees.

"And he can't take it back," Syd says, regretful and glad at the same time. "He can't stop loving me. He can't stop loving-- Anyone he's ever loved."

"He can't," Ptonomy agrees. "It's hard for anyone to do that. Love, real love, is incredibly powerful. And David is love. Love is what keeps him alive and connected to the world despite everything he's suffered."

"Yes," Syd says, and gathers herself again. "I know he's trying to be-- To make decisions for himself. To have boundaries. But-- Loving him means accepting him as he is. That's what you said. So if I'm with him, if I'm part of his life-- I have to be careful with him."

"We all do," Ptonomy agrees. "We're all trying to be a lot more careful with David and each other. You're not facing this alone, Syd."

"I know," Syd says. "This morning-- Clark. I know you sent him. He said-- I have to stop trusting my enemies more than my friends. And that's--" She gives a dry laugh. "He's good at that, figuring people out and knowing their vulnerabilities. You and Clark and Farouk, you're all really good at that. So here I am." She looks at him, hating how vulnerable she feels but not letting herself hide it. "I'm ready to do the work."

"You are," Ptonomy agrees. "So let's do the work. You have your new foundation and it's a good start. Remember, you can keep changing it. Take out what hurts you and put in what helps."

Syd nods.

"Grab your notebook and write it down," Ptonomy says, gesturing to the notebook tucked under Syd's cot.

Syd takes it out and flips to a new page. She writes her foundation. Life is war and she has to survive. She can accept help. She is loved.

"And now your mantra," Ptonomy says. "Let's brainstorm. Think about acceptance and change. What are your goals?"

Syd concentrates. "To accept David. To be-- Responsible with him. To trust my friends. To-- Have friends. To not be-- Alone. I don't want to be alone."

"You want love," Ptonomy says. "You have David's love in your foundation because that's a truth for you. But him loving you is only half the story. You want to be able to love him back. To love other people, to open up to them and trust them."

Syd nods.

"Opening up and trusting are big challenges for you," Ptonomy says. "So I think those are a good place to start. What words would help you open up and trust?"

"I can't just tell myself to open up and trust?" Syd asks.

"You could," Ptonomy allows. "But think about David's mantra. It's not a command, it's a reassurance. It helps him feel safe enough to keep trying."

"Safe," Syd mocks, surprised at her own bitterness. But she doesn't feel safe. She's never felt safe, not deep down where it counts. Even with David, she never felt safe enough to open up and trust. It was always him opening up to her, trusting her. And there's nothing safe about their situation now.

"Your mantra can't keep you safe," Ptonomy admits. "But it can help you protect yourself the right way. It's normal to guard yourself when you don't feel safe. But friendship and love are the bonds that will give you real safety. Trusting each other means we've got each other's backs. That's how people have survived-- Forever. Before mutants, before humans, when we were just a bunch of apes wandering around Africa. We didn't have claws or armor or fangs. One of us against a lion? No contest. But a bunch of us against a lion, with sticks and rocks? That lion better run."

"And Farouk's the lion in this metaphor?" Syd asks, dryly amused.

"There's plenty of lions out there," Ptonomy says. "Life's war, right? No one wins a war alone. You need an army. So join up. You can help keep us safe, and we'll all return the favor."

Ptonomy and his metaphors. But Syd's never thought of it that way, of other people as-- Fellow soldiers. She and her mom were the lions picking off prey from the herd. If they met another lion, they didn't bring it into their pride, they punished it for encroaching on their territory. But that left them vulnerable. And when their pride was down to one, Syd couldn't hold their territory alone. She was the one who was punished.

"Join up," Syd echoes. Something about that works for her. The idea of-- Group survival. Safety in numbers. She looks at her foundation again. "Maybe--" she says, and writes: 'I can accept help. Life is war and we have to survive. I am loved.'

"Very good," Ptonomy says, impressed. "And you're putting help first. That's excellent." He gives her a considering look. "You know, you don't have to figure it all out yourself. David's mantra started with Cary and he's been a magpie for all of his foundation and mantra work. I helped you with the idea of accepting help. So let's get you accepting help from your friends with your mantra. Let's go up there and tell them that you're trying to open up and trust with them. How does that sound?"

It sounds-- Painful and embarrassing. Like she's walking up to the front of the class so she can be humiliated. But this isn't a school full of taunting classmates. This is-- A safe environment. It's designed to be therapeutic and supportive for David, full of accepting people who aren't afraid to give him the love he needs. And it's meant to be therapeutic and supportive for everyone else in it, too. A place for complicated people to get better.

It's Oliver and Melanie's dream. It's Summerland at the heart of Division 3. Melanie might be gone, Oliver might have forgotten, but-- Ptonomy, Cary, Kerry. They kept the dream alive.

She's glad. It's a good dream.

"Okay," Syd agrees. "Let's go up."

Chapter 72: Day 10: A human touch, sustained and painless. (Syd)

Chapter Text

When Syd was a teenager, her mom dragged her to an AA meeting. Her mom had searched her room while Syd was at school and found the bottles she'd hidden in the drawer under her tampons and sports bras. Syd didn't see the problem. Her mom drank all the time, the kids at school drank all the time. Who cared if she was underage? Her mom's friends had been sneaking her alcohol at their salons since before she needed tampons and sports bras.

It's not like Syd was an alcoholic. Her mom was the alcoholic, but she was classy about it and wrote even better drunk than she did sober, so everyone thought it was great. Syd was just trying to fit in for once, the only way she could. She was trying to be normal.

Normal got her dragged to some shitty church in a shitty part of town, because god forbid they bumped into anyone who knew them. God forbid the Untouchable Barretts actually let themselves be human beings for one single solitary second.

Her mom was such a coward. For all her bluster, she didn't make Syd get up and talk. Looking back, she thinks her mom went to that meeting for herself more than for Syd. She knew she needed help but she couldn't let herself ask for it or accept it. She used Syd as the excuse to go, and then faced with her own life reflected back at her, she shut down. They left the meeting without a word to anyone or each other and never spoke of it again.

A few months later, Mom got her cancer diagnosis. And then drinking was the least of their problems.

But that night stayed with Syd. The people standing up in turn, telling their stories, pouring out their hearts to strangers. Some of them even cried. It was so alien to everything Syd knew. Her life was two hells: the hell of school, where she didn't belong and everyone made sure she knew it, and the hell of home. Home was two different hells depending on if there was a salon or not. If there was a salon, it was the hell too much noise: an apartment full of fake people fake smiling at each other while they bragged about their fakeness and drank too much. If there wasn't a salon, it was the hell of too much silence. She and her mom didn't talk much, especially by the end. They would sit together and read or write. Syd would read the books her mom's friends talked about at the salons, or she would do her homework, or sometimes she would draw. And when her mom finished her essays, she would read them aloud and Syd would critique them.

That AA meeting was one of the only moments of Syd's life where she saw genuine vulnerability. And then she was forced into Clockworks, and on her first day there she met someone who was the living embodiment of genuine vulnerability.

Right now, David's body is not occupied by the living embodiment of genuine vulnerability. She's not sure if Dvd has ever been vulnerable for a single day of his life. They have a lot in common that way, but that isn't something Syd feels especially glad about right now.

She came back for David, not Dvd. But David is a package deal, a mandatory buy one get two free. And-- They're the parts of David that were always missing: his anger and his rationality. Their presence doesn't negate David; they make sense of him, they make him whole. And a whole David is what she needs. A stool with all three legs, stable and able to take the weight.

It's still deeply disconcerting to see Dvd glaring at her with David's body, his arms crossed, his whole body tense with defensive suspicion. It would help if she could hear David through the relay like everyone else, but she has to earn that. So here she is, trying to earn it by opening up in front of-- Not strangers, but people she's done everything she can to keep at a safe distance for over a year.

'Hi, my name is Syd and I'm emotionally stunted,' she wants to say. But that feels-- Disrespectful. She looks to Ptonomy for help, and he nods in assent.

"Syd's been doing a lot of work on herself," Ptonomy says. "Hard work. She's made progress with her foundation, but she needs some help with her mantra." He looks back to Syd, prompting her along.

“So what’s your foundation?” Dvd asks, before Syd can speak. “I wanna hear it.”

“Dvd,” Amy says, trying to intervene.

“No, he’s right,” Syd says. “I’m not very good at— Sharing. But you should know my foundation.”

David might be invisible and inaudible to her, but he’s sitting next to Dvd. She knows his foundation. It’s only fair that he know hers. She takes a moment to brace herself. It’s one thing to talk about this in therapy. She can just about manage that. This is— New heights of terrifying vulnerability.

“My foundation,” Syd says, slowly to delay the inevitable. “My foundation is— I can accept help. Life is war and we have to survive. And I am— Loved.” She falters on the last word, her voice unsteady. She has a horrible certainty that David doesn’t love her anymore, that it was arrogant of her to make such a huge assumption and put it in her foundation, for god’s sake she’s such an idiot. She wants to run away and hide.

Dvd is not impressed.

“Thank you for sharing that with us,” Amy says, warmly.

“Yes,” Cary adds. “That’s a very personal thing. I—”

Everyone looks at the space between Lenny and Dvd. Syd waits and is actually dying, she is dying right now, David hates her and she’s the one who should throw herself off the roof.

She doesn’t show any of that. She doesn’t even twitch.

“David says he likes your foundation,” Lenny relays.

Syd is absolutely sure that David said more than that, and probably thought more on top of that. But that’s what she’s getting, apparently. Her days of being the only person David could talk to are absolutely over. Which is a good thing, she knows it’s a good thing. But it still feels like— An unspeakable loss.

Being the only person David could trust was— It meant a lot to her, more than a lot. She feels like such an idiot for pushing him away. Why did she do that? Why?

She knows why. It still feels— She feels so small and petty in the face of— Everything David is going through. She doesn’t deserve his love. She’s the last person he should want and he must have realized that because he’s trusting everyone but her with the relay.

Her foundation is such a joke. She took out all those things but she can’t stop believing them.

She needs a drink. God, she really has turned into her mom.

“Syd,” Ptonomy says, concerned. “How about you ask for help with your mantra?”

Her mantra. Yeah, she could use a mantra right now. “Yeah. Um. So I’m trying— Opening up and— Trusting— I’m bad at it. Obviously. But I’m trying, so— I need a mantra to— Help me try.” She says the last part softly, looking at the empty space where David is. She wishes she could see him. She might not be the only person he loves, if he loves her anymore at all, but— He’s the only person she loves. For two years, he’s been the only person who mattered to her.

And that’s the problem. Or one of the problems. David can’t be her everything. He can’t even be his own everything. She can’t be his, but— She never was. For as long as Syd has known him, he’s had Lenny and Amy and Divad and Dvd. And don’t get her started on Farouk. David’s never been alone the way Syd’s been alone.

David loved her. Maybe he still does. But he’s always had too much love for just the two of them. Syd barely even has enough love for— How could she ever make him happy? How could she ever make anyone happy?

She moves to stand, but Ptonomy puts a hand on her arm, stopping her. It shocks her, a casual touch to bare skin without the discomfort she expects from a lifetime of discomfort. But Ptonomy’s body is an android. There's no anxious needles under her skin. Her powers don’t work on— A mainframe-embodied soul.

Ptonomy doesn’t take away his hand, and she stares at it. Ptonomy, Lenny, and Amy— Syd realizes with a start that they can all touch her. It’s not skin-to-skin, not truly, but— It’s almost as good an illusion as any of David’s.

They can touch her.

She’s reeling from that so much that she has to force herself to pay attention to what Ptonomy is saying.

“—her mantra,” Ptonomy says to Cary. “Since you were the one who gave David his start.”

“Trust and openness,” Cary says, thoughtful. “I must admit I’ve struggled with that myself. Not with Kerry, of course, but— With you and David both. Your entrance into our lives was— Quite the whirlwind. Oliver, Farouk, Division 3. But that’s really no excuse. Syd, I must apologize for not being more supportive after David was taken. You suffered a terrible loss and— I let Melanie shoulder that burden. But she’d suffered a terrible loss herself. Kerry, Ptonomy, and myself, we should have recognized that and reached out to you, instead of expecting you to come to us.”

Syd stares at Cary, completely at a loss.

“Yeah,” Kerry says, regretful. “I mean, that wasn’t really my thing, but— If I lost Cary like that, I wouldn’t be— Arguing with jerks who think all mutants should die. But you did and you’re pretty good at it.”

“You are,” Cary agrees, and he seems— Proud? “Melanie often spoke with me about how impressed she was with you. And she mentioned how well you were doing with your therapy— In general terms, of course.”

“I’m sorry you felt alone, Syd,” Amy says, sympathetic. “You helped me so much while David was gone. You let me talk your ear off about him. But I should have insisted you tell me how you were really doing. Because— When we lost him, you were closer to David than I was. You were there with him after I gave up. He’s my brother, but the two of you loved each other so much. And I know you didn’t want to grieve, you couldn’t let yourself— You were so strong, to keep searching for him, to keep fighting even when everyone else— You were the one who kept our hope alive.”

Kerry suddenly laughs into her hand.

Dvd clears his throat. “David wants me to point out that he’s not dead.” He listens, sighs, annoyed. “But he’s glad you didn’t give up on him. And he’s mad that everyone else did.”

“Hey, no sharing thoughts,” Lenny chides. “We don’t share your thoughts, don’t share David’s without permission.”

“Yeah,” Kerry says, firmly. “No abusing the relay.”

Dvd huffs. “I’m not using the relay.”

“Abusing the relay?” Syd asks. She feels like she missed something. She knows she did.

“We hear the Davids’ thoughts with the relay,” Kerry explains. “But just because they think something, that doesn’t mean they want to say it. We try to only respond to the things they say aloud and we try not to take advantage. The hardest part of the relay is not answering back to everything.”

“It is,” Cary agrees, fondly. “But I think we’re all handling it very well.”

Kerry glows at Cary’s praise, and Cary— He looks so happy that he’s made her happy. They’re such an incongruous pair, it’s easy to forget that they’re effectively twins, like how the Davids are effectively triplets.

"I'm not using the relay," Dvd says again. "So your rules don't apply to me."

Dvd listens while David say something. Dvd looks annoyed, then guilty. He looks at Syd, then back at the empty space.

"They're not your secrets, they're ours," Dvd grumbles. He listens some more, then throws up his hands. "Fine." He turns to Syd. "Me and Divad shouldn't have told you David's secrets before." He looks over at the space between Cary and Oliver, but if Divad says anything it's not relayed.

It was frustrating before, hearing only a fraction of David's conversations with Dvd and Divad. It's even more frustrating now because David is the one she wants to hear. When they saw her before, there must have been a conversation about David going back into his body to talk to her, but Dvd stayed put.

They're a package deal. Dvd isn't going anywhere. If she wants to be with David, she has to be with Dvd. She has to be with-- All of the people in David's life.

In her life.

If David had never come back, if Farouk had left them alone-- What would she have done? Would she have turned into Melanie, waiting alone for decades? She wants to think that she would have accepted her situation and engaged more with Melanie and Amy, with Ptonomy, Cary, and Kerry, but she had a year to do that and she didn't. She doesn't know how to let people in. That's-- The whole point of this exercise. This-- Compassion therapy.

They're giving her compassion therapy. Or-- Are they? Maybe this is just-- Friendship. What's the difference?

Ptonomy's hand is still on her arm. Even though it's artificial, it's still-- A human touch, sustained and painless. She thought David was the only person who could give her that. But here she is, being touched on bare skin by an aesthetically accurate android with a human soul.

The pain around her heart eases its grip.

"No one can touch me," Syd says, the words finding their way out of her. "It's really--" She stops, tries to-- "When people get close-- It's not just the-- Physical discomfort. It's--" She swallows. "Do you know what it feels like to have people flinch away from you? To always be-- And I have to be the one to say no, I have to reject everyone. And that's-- It's my fault. I'm hurting them. I hurt my mom, I hurt David--" Her throat is tight. Ptonomy is still touching her arm.

"Syd," Cary says, gently. "Your powers aren't your fault."

"I know," Syd says. She talked about this with Melanie when they first brought her to Summerland. But talking to Melanie wasn't enough. She thought-- As long as she had David, it didn't matter. And then she lost him. And when she got him back-- She was so angry with him because he gave her what she needed and then took it away.

She wants to tell David that. But if she does, it's going to hurt him. Even if she tells Dvd instead, David is right there beside him. She doesn't know if he's angry or happy or upset. She doesn't know what he's feeling. He's--

He's her.

He's present but-- Refusing to give anything away. Unable to express with his body, with his eyes. His eyes always show so much. What do her eyes show? How did David fall in love with someone who doesn't show anything?

"My mom blamed me," she says, involuntarily. "She didn't say it, but-- I saw it in her eyes every day. Not being able to touch her own daughter, even as a baby. She was always talking about being a survivor, but you know what she was surviving? Me."

She's never admitted that to anyone, not even Melanie. She tried to show David, but-- He didn't understand. No matter how many times she showed him, he didn't understand. But she didn't help him understand, she wouldn't give him the words he needed. She wanted him to simply know, like her mom knew.

He's a mind reader. He should have known. But he didn't trust what he heard and she told him not to listen. She didn't want him to trespass on her mind, but she wouldn't tell him anything either. He must have felt-- Like she felt with her mom. Desperate to please, but constantly punished.

She never wanted to become her mom, but she became her anyway. It's her mom's poison in her old foundation, her mom's pain and anger, her abuse. It was abuse.

"Shit," she mutters, blinking away tears. "I'm sorry, I--"

"Syd," Amy says, concerned. "Is it okay if-- I hug you?"

Syd looks at Amy. Ptonomy's hand moves from her arm to her back, lightly urging her on.

"It's safe," Ptonomy says. "She can't hurt you and you can't hurt her."

It's safe. Amy's-- Safe. It's hard for her to process that, but--

Syd stands up, and Amy is there, and--

She's done so much work on her haphephobia. She can touch Matilda or holds hands with someone for hours. But touch is still something she has to endure. She's learned how to endure it, to tolerate it for the sake of others, for David, but it's still-- Anxious needles under her skin.

She's touching Amy and there's no needles. Amy's holding her against her body, her arms wrapped tight around her, and nothing is happening.

No, something is happening. She feels--

Calmed. Safe and nurtured and-- Accepted. Amy could say kind things to Syd all day, but words are-- Syd doesn't trust words. Her mom was so good with words. Her mom said she loved her but Syd never felt her love. She felt David's love when he touched her, but this is so much stronger because-- It’s her body feeling it, not just her mind. It's her actual body being held and touched without pain.

Eventually she feels like it's okay to let Amy go. She steps back, trying to recover and gather herself back together. She sees Dvd looking at her with-- Understanding. It confuses her at first, but-- Then she gets it. She's not the only one who's been-- Imprisoned in their own body, who finds themself-- Undone by kindness.

She sits down, feeling utterly overwhelmed. Ptonomy puts his hand back on her arm and she lets it happen. It's not as intense as the hug. It's-- Steadying. A physical connection. Like holding hands.

She gets it now. She understands why David needs that so much, why-- Everyone does. She read about it, she studied it, she forced herself to go through the motions. But her powers were always in the way.

She thinks about the times she went into other people's bodies, into Matilda's body. David went into her body for two hours and couldn't shake her off for days, weeks. But she never felt like she was them, she never felt fully connected to their bodies. The touch she felt as them didn't belong to her, it didn't match. Whatever she felt there, it didn't come back with her. That's what makes her resistant to detachment syndrome, but-- At a cost.

There's always a cost.

"You need touch, Syd," Ptonomy says, gently. "Your body needs it, not just your mind. There's been a lot of things in the way of you getting what you need to be healthy. But now you can, from Amy and from me."

"Not Lenny?" Syd asks, curious.

"I'm not a hugger," Lenny says. "Amy's the hugger, get your fix from her."

Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy. It feels wrong to benefit from their-- Disembodiment. Their minds are in danger of drifting away forever, but-- Because of that, the bodies they use to treat their own condition-- Can also treat hers.

"It's good for us, too," Ptonomy says. "Touch is a fundamental human need. A lot of the problems you have, even your antisocial disorder and your BPD, I believe they're caused or aggravated by a lifetime of touch starvation. You have developmental trauma from that, just like David. That trauma needs to be treated for you to get better. And the best treatment for developmental trauma is what we're doing now. It's being with your friends, it's being touched and held, it's compassion and love."

"Another diagnosis," Syd says, but she's not upset by this one.

"Think of developmental trauma as a big circle around all the other diagnoses," Ptonomy says. "Same as with David. Everything else you have is a subset of that trauma or aggravated by it. Sometimes it's good to get specific, but the big picture needs work, too. So how are you feeling now?"

"Better," Syd admits. When she first came up, she felt so-- She felt--

She felt ashamed. Just like David. The world she was born into, the body she was born into, they punished her. And she accepted their punishment as deserved. She punished herself and she took her anger out on the world. All that pain in her foundation, the loop of her maze-- "I internalized it. What happened to me."

"You did," Ptonomy says. "It wasn't your fault. Being born with your powers, the way they hurt you and caused other people to hurt you, that wasn't your fault. And now that we have a better understanding of what you need, we can help you get better. We can help you do more than just survive."

"But this is--" Syd starts. "You need your real bodies back."

"We do," Ptonomy says. "But that's okay. There are a lot of ways for us to deal with this, to make a supportive environment for you. What's important is that we figured it out. How about you tell me your foundation?"

"Um." Syd clears her head. "I can accept help. Life is war and we have to survive. And I am— Loved."

This time she isn't overcome by shame. Because she does feel loved. She feels loved by-- Amy and Ptonomy and Cary and Kerry. They gave her compassion and understanding. They gave her touch. She opened up to them and they-- Accepted her.

It feels ridiculous, that such small things could affect her so much. She's been locked down tight her whole life. But over the past week, Ptonomy pushed and coaxed her to open up just enough for her to let them in. And she did and-- It helped.

And David-- She doesn't know how David feels about any of this.

"Can I talk to David?" she asks Dvd. "Face to face? Please. I won't hurt him."

She doesn't feel like she has to, not right now. Maybe it won't last, she knows how David struggles with his shame. But right now she feels calm, truly calm and not-- The false calm that comes from wrapping all her pain so tightly around her heart that nothing can escape it.

Dvd looks skeptical, but Ptonomy gives his permission. Dvd leans back and closes his eyes. There's a long pause, and then--

David.

He takes a moment to orient himself. She doesn't know how long he was projected from his body but it must have been a while. He takes Amy's hand and lets her touch steady him.

"I'm sorry about this morning," Syd says. "What I said--"

"It's okay," David says, but she can see he's trying to not be sad about it. "You don't have to-- All of this, you have enough to deal with without-- Dealing with me."

"We both have a lot to deal with," Syd says. "It looks like we have another match."

David looks at her with those soulful eyes. "When you showed me your childhood--"

"You didn't understand," Syd says, accepting. "You tried, you really tried. But-- I wasn't teaching you, I was punishing you. If I really wanted you to understand, I would have just-- Told you." It seems so obvious in hindsight, from where she is right now. But she couldn't tell him then. "David, I don't want to punish you anymore."

"You didn't--"

"I did," Syd says, firmly. "I've been doing a lot of thinking on my own. I needed to be on my own for a while. But Ptonomy's right. I spent my whole life alone and-- It didn't help me."

"Your whole life?" David asks, and she sees the question he's really asking. She sees the fear in him that he failed her, that he was responsible somehow. She sees his acceptance of that. He wants to suffer for her, it's how he copes.

But what happened to her, her childhood, her powers. None of that had anything to do with him.

"You know, when I went to Clockworks, it wasn't my choice," Syd says. "There was a man, a powerful man. I tried to hurt him so he had me committed. I knew I needed help, but-- I wasn't ready to accept it. When we were there, you were trying to get better. I wasn't."

"But Kissinger--"

"I told him what he wanted to hear," Syd says, plainly. "And when he said I could leave-- I just wanted to put all of that behind me. But I couldn't let you go because-- I love you."

David tenses. She can see so much in his eyes.

"I lied this morning," Syd tells him. "When I said I can't forgive you. I was lying to myself. I do forgive you. But forgiving you doesn't stop me from being hurt and angry. I'm going to get angry again, but-- I don't want to punish you. I don't want to do to you what my mom did to me."

She can see that David is already struggling. Whatever work he’s already done today, he’s not going to be able to do much more. "So-- What do you want?"

"You," Syd says, and it’s freeing to admit it. "Us. I want us, but-- Not the way we were."

David’s reluctantly amused. "I thought that was my line."

"It's a good line," Syd says. "I think both of us-- We have a lot of work to do to get better. But-- It might be easier if we do some of it together.”

She gives David time to think. He goes through a whole range of reactions, and he looks around at everyone before settling back on Syd. He takes a steadying breath.

"I haven't--" He starts, then tries again. "I've been-- I have to fix my system and myself and my possession trauma and-- Everyone's done a really good job making it manageable but-- I don't know if I can fix-- Us."

"You’re not doing any of that alone,” Ptonomy reminds him. “I think we can squeeze it in. What do you think, cruise director?"

"David's definitely done for today," Lenny says. "But how about-- Couples therapy? Tomorrow morning? We'll get you a good night's sleep, you'll be fresh and ready to go."

David looks doubtful.

"Trust the cruise director," Lenny tells him. "C'mon, it's worth a try, right? You'll have to talk about all this Syd stuff with Ptonomy anyway. Make it a conversation."

"A conversation," David echoes. "Okay."

Syd would have preferred a resounding yes, but it’s better than the no she got this morning.

She gives him a smile and he reluctantly smiles back, just a bit. She hates how wary he is, but she has no one to blame for that but herself. She’s not sure how she would have reacted to her mom trying to patch things up. Maybe she would have been too angry to try. But David isn’t good at being angry.

Dvd and Divad, on the other hand—

She’s not going to talk to them now. She needs to do it face-to-face with them, and— She’s not ready. She feels like she can do anything, but she knows this euphoric calm is only temporary. Pushing herself would only make her crash the same way David keeps crashing. Based on Lenny’s expression, David is getting close to that again.

“I should let you rest,” Syd says. Maybe she should go. “I’ll go. I have a lot to think about.”

“You shouldn’t be alone,” Amy insists. “Stay with us. You’re our friend, Syd.”

“Stay with your friends,” Ptonomy says. “If you need to sit and think, sit and think with us. David will be fine. We’re all here to take care of both of you.”

He reaches out his hand. Syd hesitates, then takes it.

It’s strange to hold someone else’s hand. She worked so hard on her haphephobia because she wanted to hold David’s hand. She did it for him because she was afraid of losing him. But that fear is part of why she lost him.

They never got around to her mantra, and her foundation— She needs to change her thinking about a lot of things. But she’s not facing it alone. She has friends who love her enough to help her get better.

Chapter 73: Day 10: You think we love that monster? (Divad)

Chapter Text

"Divad, it's time," Ptonomy says. "It's your turn to be in charge."

Divad doesn't want to go back in their body, not if it means more therapy. Even though he knows he needs help, even though he knows it's the logical solution, he doesn't want any part of it.

"David needs to stay in our body," Divad insists. "He's in no condition to step out."

David's worn out from dealing with not only his own therapy, but Dvd’s and Syd's. Adding Divad's on top of all that will set him back. David should stay where he is so he can get better. If Divad has to have therapy-- He can have disembodied relay therapy.

"David will be fine," Ptonomy says. "And no, this will not be relay therapy. This is not a group session. This is you, in your body, talking out loud to me."

"Absolutely not," Divad says. Is Ptonomy nuts? David will hear everything Divad says. Last time that happened David went away, hearing Divad's therapy will make him go away again.

"David's not going to hear it," Ptonomy says. "He's going to listen to music instead. Lenny made a playlist in the mainframe. David can’t wear headphones while he's projected, so Oliver's going to send it to him. Dvd will stay with him. Everyone's working together to make this happen. So you need to step up and do your part."

Divad looks over at David and Dvd. As weary as David is, he wants Divad to have his session. And Dvd--

Dvd has David back. It's not how it was, but-- They've spent most of the day together without him and it makes Divad feel like this is college all over again. And as much as he loved college, as much as he enjoys working with Cary and Oliver-- College was miserable for their system. He hated how furious Dvd was with him, he hated how guilty he felt about David, he hated hurting his system even though it felt necessary. He hates hurting his system now. He hates that it still feels necessary.

But that's why he needs therapy. He can't get it to stop feeling necessary on his own, not without turning himself off, making himself a-- A mutant powers junkie. And he hated David being a junkie too much to turn into one himself.

So he won't turn himself off anymore, not unless he has to. And if he can't turn himself off-- He has to do the work.

"Alright, out," he tells David, unable to keep the frustration from his voice. He doesn't want to take his anger out on David, he never did, but it happens anyway. It makes him feel so helpless and out of control. Even Syd's doing better than he is.

David steps out, and Divad steps in. He doesn't say anything, just stands and takes their tired body up to the loft so he can have his session. He can hear David feeling hurt, but then David stops thinking about Divad because Oliver is sending him music. Divad can't hear what music Lenny picked, but he can hear David thinking about it. It's the same as the stuff she liked in Clockworks. David liked all that weird music too, it helped him pretend he was somewhere else, that he was anywhere but where he was.

Lenny's always done a better job of managing David than Divad ever could, but he never took her seriously because she's a junkie. If he had any control over their body during those years, he wouldn't have let David be friends with her or Benny. David shouldn't have been making friends in the first place. If David hadn't been friends with Lenny, if he'd just kept to their system, Farouk wouldn't have been able to use Lenny to get control of their body and David would never have become too traumatized to share. They wouldn't have been used to kill all those people. A whole lot of terrible things would never have happened.

Ptonomy sits down. "Let's go back a bit. This is therapy, not a race. Your challenges are different from Syd's, from Dvd's and David's. It's okay that you're not where they are."

"You're the one who said it was a race," Divad points out.

"It's a team event," Ptonomy says. "All of us need to get better together so we can win. I know you want to be part of that, but you spent all day isolating yourself."

"I stayed with Cary and Oliver," Divad counters. "That was the deal." He didn't have to talk to Dvd and David as long as he talked to someone else.

"It was," Ptonomy agrees. "But you didn't talk to them about how you feel. You talked about science."

"Science is how I keep us safe," Divad counters. "I have to keep us safe."

"You do," Ptonomy agrees. "We're in a very dangerous situation. We all have to keep each other safe. But part of that means agreeing on what safe is, how to achieve it. If we don't have the same goals, we're not going to reach them. So what's safe to you?"

"What do you think?" Divad asks, sarcastic. "How about: not being tortured by an omniscient monster?"

"We all agree on that," Ptonomy says, wryly. "What else?"

"What's else is there?" Divad challenges.

"That's fair," Ptonomy says. "So let's break it down. How are you keeping us safe?"

"I'm healing our body," Divad says, and he's proud of that. "I'm keeping David safe from his dreams. I'm keeping him stable so he doesn't get out of control."

"You're controlling him."

"He asked for my help," Divad says, not liking the accusing edge to that. "And you did too, so what's the problem?"

"It's more of a concern," Ptonomy says. "Farouk abused your system through David's misdiagnosis, tortured your system with medication. First he did that by forcing your system to take what you all knew you didn't need. Then he made David believe he needed the medication so he'd torture your system with it and blame himself when it failed to work. And now? You're the one in control of David's neurochemical stability. That's a lot of power to have over him, especially when you're one of David's abusers."

Divad straightens up. "Excuse me?"

"Don't act surprised," Ptonomy says. "You've been using your powers to stop yourself from continuing that abuse."

"Yeah, but apparently that makes me a junkie so I stopped," Divad says. "What do you want from me?"

"What do you want?" Ptonomy replies. "Now that you're not suppressing your anger, that abuse has resumed. You're staying away from David so you don't hurt him, but you're thinking incredibly hurtful things about him and you won't be able to bottle that up for long. Do you really want to stop that abuse, or does hurting David give you something you want more?"

"Like what?" Divad challenges.

"It wasn't your choice to give up being in charge," Ptonomy says. "My concern is that this really is college all over again, or rather, the years that led up to college. What happened during those years? We know the story from the outside. David was in bad shape. He lost his mother, his schizophrenia got worse. He started acting out in school, at home, then he took it to the streets. He was arrested, sometimes violently. He was hospitalized. His family didn't know what to do. And then suddenly things started to look up. Everyone thought the medication was finally helping. David was better. But he wasn't better. So what's that story from the inside?"

'None of your business' is what Divad wants to say. But he knows how well that would go down. He's just glad Ptonomy isn't a memory walker anymore. He sighs and gets on with it.

"David was a wreck, obviously," Divad says. "Losing Mom, the misdiagnosis, the monster. All that was bad enough. But then he heard things. She was sick for a long time. He told us-- Dad and Amy, even though they were sad-- They were relieved. They wanted her pain to stop. But that's what they thought about us. They wanted our pain to stop. I told him they didn't want us to die, that didn't make any sense, but-- David couldn't let it go. He was mad at Mom for dying, at Amy and Dad for their thoughts. He said they were lying to him, they didn't love him, he was paranoid. He got so bad--"

"What did you do?"

"He was this close to suicide-by-cop," Divad explains, showing their pinched fingers. "We wanted to put him in our bedroom but we couldn't, so we had to-- Restrain him. Just-- Until he calmed down. And I covered for him. And that's when I realized-- When we did that, the monster left us alone."

"Usually you either shared with David or covered for him after he was broken, right?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yeah, we'd never-- It was David's life, we weren't supposed to just-- Take charge of it. And you know, Dvd acts so high and mighty, like he had nothing to do with it, but he agreed with me." At first. "We had to stop David."

"So you imprisoned him."

"Hey, don't act like you didn't do the same thing," Divad shoots back. "We couldn't ask for help. No one believed us about anything because we were crazy. We calmed him down, we got him better, we let him be in charge again. But every time we did, the monster broke David all over again."

"And that's when you decided to take charge permanently?"

"It wasn't supposed to be permanent," Divad insists. It really wasn't. He refused to heal David, which kept Dvd busy. But it took so long to find the answers they needed. It took too long. David was recovering, slowly, and Dvd started pushing to put David back in charge. But Divad didn't want that. So he-- Sabotaged David's recovery.

"You broke him," Ptonomy realizes. "Dvd wouldn't go along with what you wanted, so you took matters into your own hands."

"I was going to fix him," Divad insists. "When it was safe."

"How?" Ptonomy asks. "By making him forget?"

"David forgot a lot of things. And if he was just going to forget-- Look, I know it sounds bad."

"It sounds extremely bad," Ptonomy says, gravely.

"We had a monster in our head and no one would help us," Divad insists. "I needed more time."

"And then you ran out of time," Ptonomy says. "So now what? Do you want to abuse David and sabotage his recovery again?"

"No!" Divad insists. He doesn't, but— He can’t say he wouldn’t.

"That’s your system’s developmental trauma,” Ptonomy says. “And you and David are mirror images of that trauma. Farouk was your world and he taught both of you the same thing: that David deserves to be hurt, that he needs to be punished. But that's not your idea, it's Farouk’s. And you don’t want it, I know you're trying to reject that idea. You don’t want to hurt David, you don’t want him to hurt himself."

"Yeah, and I finally found a way to stop myself but you people talked me out of it," Divad says, angry.

"Suppressing your trauma won't make it go away," Ptonomy reminds him. "You have to face it, process it."

“And now's the time for that?” Divad asks, unable to keep the panic from his voice. They know Farouk is planning his next move, and whatever it is it’s going to be horrific. Now is not the time to get distracted and let down their guard.

“Now is exactly the time,” Ptonomy insists. “This is the best shot we have. We know who Farouk is, we know how he works and what he wants. The details vary, but the pattern of abuse we see again and again is clear. Emotional blackmail. He defines the choices of his victims while simultaneously making them feel completely responsible for those choices. Your system's developmental trauma makes you especially vulnerable to emotional blackmail, especially David, and especially because Farouk changed him to lower his defenses. But you're vulnerable too. All that anger you're refusing to confront makes you vulnerable. You want to hurt David. Farouk will use that. He already has."

"I didn't torture David for Farouk," Divad insists. "It was to get Farouk out."

"Are you sure?” Ptonomy asks. "And all the other times you yelled at him, told him that he wasn't capable of making the right decision, that he ruins everything? Those words show up again and again in David's thoughts and yours."

Divad really hates telepathic therapy.

"And that's not the only vulnerability you have," Ptonomy continues, to Divad's dread. "You know what happened to your system isn't David's fault. You know he was controlled and manipulated so much he didn't even know which way was up. But just before we started this session, what were you doing?"

Divad glares at him.

"This isn't just about you blaming David. It's about who you're not blaming," Ptonomy says. "It's about your system's emotional attachment to Farouk."

Divad raises his eyebrows. "You think we love that monster?"

"You all loved King," Ptonomy counters. "And Farouk said he tried to make David love him.”

“He was lying,” Divad says, dismissive.

“Maybe,” Ptonomy says. “Only David kept those early memories and those were taken from him. So there's a lot we don't know. But we can make an educated guess. We know the patterns that happen with caregiver abuse.”

“He’s a monster, not a caregiver,” Divad points out. Farouk couldn’t care for a houseplant.

“He lived inside you since you were a baby,” Ptonomy counters. “He was an enormous influence in your life, bigger than anyone else. Developmental trauma, remember? You accepted him, you didn’t know any better.”

“Fine,” Divad relents. Goddamn developmental trauma.

“If caregivers meet a child's needs, it feels like the world is a fundamentally safe place, other people are good, the child is good. But if those needs aren't met, the universe isn't safe, other people can't be relied on, the child is bad. In situations with chronic, traumatic abuse--"

"I know about attachment theory," Divad says, annoyed.

"Then you know that all children mimic their caregivers," Ptonomy says. "Our caregivers present a world to us and we copy them to survive in it."

"I am nothing like that monster," Divad says, furious. "You know, this whole plan of yours? It's not gonna work because you think you can fix David, you think you can teach him not to fuck things up. Well let me tell you, fucking things up is what David does. That's why I have to be in charge. You wanna waste time healing him? The longer we wait, the worse it's gonna be. If Division 3 had any sense they'd take this crown off right now and let me fix things."

"And how would you fix things?" Ptonomy challenges, not backing down at all. "You control your body, not the world. Farouk isn't inside you anymore. What can you do to stop Farouk, to really stop him?"

Divad doesn't have an answer for that.

"You're incredibly angry about what you’ve had to endure," Ptonomy says. "You’re furious and it's a righteous anger. But Farouk didn’t just control David. He used your anger to control you, to make you hurt David and yourself. Every time you hurt David, you're doing what Farouk wants."

Divad knows all that. He knows it, it disgusts him, he doesn’t want to be used that way anymore. But every time David makes a choice, they all suffer. When David couldn’t make choices, things were better. The monster left them alone when David was broken.

“That was his lesson,” Ptonomy says, softer now. “The pain stops when David breaks, when he’s been given the right dose of pain to treat his sickness. And then he’s allowed to be comforted, loved, healed as a reward. Suffer because you’re bad; accept your brokenness, your punishment, and that will earn you love. King’s love, Farouk’s love, your system's love, even our love. That’s why David wanted to stay in Clockworks, that’s why he’s afraid of getting better. Because getting better means he's going to be punished again. We've all been part of that cycle but now we have the chance to break it."

Divad has to take a moment because he's never had their entire life laid so bare.

Punishment to treat David's sickness. Healing as a reward for-- Accepting the punishment. It's so-- Unspeakably cruel and-- Utterly Farouk. They've lived through that cycle so many times. Farouk-- Wrote that lesson into their mind, into their heart. Even with Farouk out of their body, even with him just sitting back and watching, Divad's been trying to carry it out yet again. And David, and Dvd. None of them have been able to stop it.

Even when David forgot everything else, he remembered that lesson. Years after Farouk took everything away, David still knew he had to be punished for his sickness. He didn't have Divad to do it so he found people who would. And if they didn’t punish him enough, he did it himself. Divad always felt like— That was David making everything worse. Watching helplessly while David hung them was one of the worst tortures they ever experienced. David did that to them. But all he was doing was-- What he was taught. He knew he had to break himself to make the punishment stop, to be loved, even if that meant--

Divad feels sick.

"The three of you are still that child, terrified of Farouk’s punishment,” Ptonomy says. “You had no choice but to accept that lesson when you were young. Until now, it didn't matter which identity was in charge of your system because Farouk was the one who was truly in charge. But you can make your own choices now. So make them. Stop living out the nightmare he designed for you."

"How?" Divad asks, because he can't see any way out.

"Keep doing the work," Ptonomy says. "Your anger is part of the lesson, so work on your anger. When you catch yourself blaming David, put that blame where it truly belongs: on Farouk. You know the patterns he built for you. Recognize them and break them. Our goal for your system's therapy is healthy multiplicity. That's all three of you working together and treating each other with love and respect. Make that your goal."

"That all sounds--" Divad starts. "I want that but-- I can't stop myself. Not without--"

"You don't need your powers to manage your anger," Ptonomy says. "You need to recognize what's hiding beneath it. It's the same shame and fear and helplessness that David has, that Dvd has. You all share the same trauma because you're all Davids, because you're a system that shares everything. You want to be closer to David and Dvd, but your anger isolates you from them. That isolation is how you coped with the role that Farouk forced you into, with the guilt you felt every time you hurt David."

"I can't tell him," Divad says. "What I did to him-- David-- He'll never trust me. And Dvd's never going to forgive me."

"You won't know if you never give them the chance," Ptonomy says. "Try apologizing to them. Give them time to work through their feelings. If you can show them you've changed, that you're not going to stay trapped in that cycle-- That will mean a lot to them. And it will help them break their parts of the cycle. You're all facing this together. Help each other through it. It'll be a lot easier than trying to do it all on your own."

Divad nods. It all sounds-- Manageable. He gives a dry laugh, thinking about how important that's been for David, that Lenny and Ptonomy and everyone have made the work feel manageable. Because the truth is that all of this is-- Incredibly difficult. They've been living out these patterns their whole lives. And now they have to change all at once before Farouk can force them to live it out again.

Divad's never tried to get better before. He had nothing but disdain for the doctors and therapists who couldn't see past their fake schizophrenia. He watched David try to get better, but David kept failing, he failed every time. But-- That's because it didn't matter what David did. Farouk wouldn't ever let him make the right choices, he wouldn't ever let David get better. It's always been Farouk.

"Change is hard," Ptonomy admits. "And we are asking a lot. But this is our best shot. We have to give it everything we have. And-- This idea that there's a right choice, a single true path to safety? That's one of Farouk's ideas. If David hadn't made friends with Lenny, Farouk would have found other ways to manipulate him. If David hadn't tried to kill your system, he wouldn't have ended up at Summerland. I can see the whole world through the mainframe, and the world is-- Vast and unpredictable, chaotic, contradictory. Looking for a perfect choice-- You might as well try to predict the path of a single raindrop in a hurricane. Don't let Farouk's perfection be the enemy of your system's good."

Divad feels-- Overwhelmed by all of this. "This is all-- A lot," he admits.

"That's why David has his foundation and his mantra," Ptonomy says. "That's why your system needs a foundation." He hands Divad the notebook Dvd wrote their ideas into. "What ideas do you want to put into it?"

Divad looks over the list. It's already substantial.

We're all Davids.
We're all people.
We're brothers.
We're all going to get better.
We have to stay alive for each other.
Our mind is our own.
We belong to ourselves.
We've lost things we'll never get back. But we're here and we're not alone.
We share everything.
We have healthy multiplicity.

They're all-- Really good ideas. Watching David and Dvd write that together-- Divad felt like they were doing it without him on purpose, even though he was the one who refused to sit with them. He was jealous of Dvd the way he's always been jealous of Dvd. Because David chose to love Dvd instead of Divad.

"I don't know how your system worked before David was changed," Ptonomy says, "but I know how David works. He's always had enough love for everyone in his life. I think-- If you'd told David what you were trying to do to save your system, he would have let you be in charge because he trusted you and loved you. You never had to hurt him, not then and not now."

It's those words that finally put a crack in the anger around Divad's heart. He doesn't cry, he's not-- Emotional the way David and Dvd are. But he feels-- Grief. Regret. He feels the loss of-- All those years he could have had David's love, if he hadn't spent them punishing David.

All those years. Farouk took so much from them. Not David, Farouk, because Farouk took those years from David, too.

He's reminded, suddenly, of something Kerry said to David, all the way back at the beginning. What was it? Something about-- Not hurting the people they love. It had struck Divad as ridiculously simplistic at the time. But-- If they're trying to find a better way to be, a healthy system to copy-- They could do a lot worse than Kerry and Cary's system.

He takes the pen and pauses at the next empty line. What if-- Maybe he shouldn't--

"Don't be afraid to try," Ptonomy says. "You're building your foundation. Put in whatever you feel your system needs to get better. Remember, it doesn't have to be perfect. The three of you can keep changing it together."

Divad takes a breath and writes:

We forgive each other.
We accept each other.
We make decisions together.
We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do.
We don't stay angry on purpose.

He pauses, and then adds:

We love each other.

He's not sure how he feels about asking for all of that. But if they need an antidote to Farouk's poison-- These ideas are the antidote. If they forgive and accept each other, no one will be punished. If they make decisions together, they can't be turned against each other. If they hurt their system — themselves or each other — they'll apologize so they don't stay angry. And if they love each other--

If they love each other, maybe they can make the torture stop.

"Now that’s real progress,” Ptonomy says, pleased. “How about you go down and show your brothers what you added? Give that first apology a try."

"I can't tell David what I did to him," Divad insists. He knows he’ll have to, but David’s in no condition for that.

"Then wait until he’s ready," Ptonomy says. "Apologize to him for the ways you've hurt him since you got back. And you have hurt him, Divad. David's good at taking the pain he's given, but that doesn't mean it's something he should have to do. That pain is a burden on him, slowing down his recovery. See if you can take some of it away, speed things up. I think it'll make sharing your body tonight a lot easier for him."

"Okay," Divad says, and readies himself to go down there and do the work.

Chapter 74: Day 10: He's not going to be forgotten. (Divad)

Chapter Text

David might have only heard music during Divad’s session, but everyone else heard everything.

Dvd heard everything. And as Divad walks over, angled so David doesn’t see, Dvd gives Divad an absolutely murderous glare.

Dvd’s spent most of their life angry at him for being angry at David. And that was fine. Divad didn’t need Dvd to love him. He didn’t need anyone to love him. It was more important that Divad did his job and kept them safe. When David was in charge, that meant telling him what he did wrong so he wouldn’t do it again. But David kept making mistakes anyway, so Divad had to tell him again and again because David needed reminders about everything and he was so stupid, so gullible, falling for the monster’s tricks, saying the wrong things, lashing out when he should be keeping their head down and just getting through the day because life was already miserable enough and they didn’t need David making things worse.

David asking for help made things worse. David trying to kill their system made things worse. Eventually, Divad realized that the only answer was for David to never be in charge again. But breaking David didn’t stop the monster, not for good. Nothing will ever stop the monster.

But here Divad is, against all logic and rational sense, trying to stop the monster, trying to put aside a lifetime of lessons he never wanted to learn. If Ptonomy is right their system needs to be whole, and whole means healthy multiplicity, it means working together and treating each other with love and respect. It means getting rid of the idea that what happened to them was David’s fault.

It still feels like it was David’s fault. But that means Divad’s just like Syd, blaming David for what was done to him.

Divad’s really glad Syd doesn’t have the relay.

David tightens his hold on Dvd’s hand as Divad sits down in the loveseat next to Amy. David is between Dvd and Lenny, and Syd and Oliver are in the other loveseat while Cary and Kerry are enjoying the beanbag chairs. They’re a cozy group, the ten of them, even with Ptonomy still up in the loft, giving Divad the space to put their session work into practice.

All of these people, David’s friends, their friends— They’re listening and watching so they can help. They have to learn what Farouk already knows. Secrecy made life easier for Farouk; everyone knowing everything makes it harder. It’s logical, it makes complete sense. But it’s difficult to accept.

A lot of things are difficult to accept even when he knows they’re true. That’s why their system needs a foundation.

“David,” Divad starts, because David is the only one who needs any of this explained. Because David is the one that Divad broke.

David is looking at him, uncertain, expectant. He glances at the notebook in Divad’s hands, then at Divad again. ‘What did they talk about? Everyone tried not to react but I know it was bad. Divad looks tense.’

Divad forces himself to relax, though there’s only so much he can do without using his powers. He reminds himself that he never had to hurt David and he doesn’t now. Maybe that should be his mantra.

“David,” Divad starts again. “You were right. Our system should have healthy multiplicity.”

“Oh,” David says, surprised, and relaxes. “That’s— That’s great! Right?”

He looks to Dvd, and Dvd does a good job faking happy for David. But he has a lot of practice.

“Yeah, it’s great,” Dvd says, smiling for him.

Divad smiles, too, and it doesn’t feel totally fake. “I talked to Ptonomy about what our system needs to get better.”

Divad puts the notebook on the table so David and Dvd can see it the additions he made to their foundation ideas.

We forgive each other.
We accept each other.
We make decisions together.
We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do.
We don't stay angry on purpose.
We love each other.

“Wow, these are—“ David starts, and he pauses, obviously touched. “Thank you. I know all of this has been— Really hard for you, for all of us, but— With this—“ ‘Maybe this will work. We’re three Davids making a new system. Maybe this will actually work.’

‘Is this a joke?’ Dvd thinks at him. ‘Because I’m not laughing.’

‘Look, I know you’re mad,’ Divad replies.

‘Mad?’ Dvd thinks. ‘If we still had our bedroom I’d take you there and kick the living shit out of you. You don’t deserve to be a David, you absolute shit beetle.’

'Fuck you,' Divad thinks back, he's not going to let Dvd call him that again.

“Either you two are having a staring contest or you’re fighting again,” David says, annoyed. ‘Why do I even try?’ he thinks, with a long-suffering sigh.

"Oh, they're definitely fighting," Kerry says.

Divad know that if they’re going to salvage this, he has to be the mature one. As usual. “I’m sorry, David. We shouldn’t fight.” ‘Not in front of David,’ he thinks at Dvd.

‘Oh, so you want me to make it easier for you to fuck with him?’ Dvd thinks back. ‘You think you can put your lies in our foundation? You don’t even have the right to touch our notebook.’

‘It’s our system’s notebook so I have every right,’ Divad replies.

‘You’re not part of us, you’re— Farouk’s,’ Dvd thinks, his lip curling in furious disgust despite his attempt to hold a calm expression for David’s sake.

“Hey, that’s enough,” Lenny says, tersely. “Keep yelling at each other and I’ll start relaying to David.”

“You’re not supposed to tell him our thoughts,” Dvd protests.

“A telepathic conversation is still a conversation,” Lenny says. “I know you don’t want to upset David but guess what?” She makes a game-show buzzer sound. “Stop being angry and try again. Both of you.”

Divad doesn’t see how it’s fair for him to share the blame when Dvd was the one who started it.

“I’m sorry, but— He started it?" Amy says, somewhere between amused and disappointed. "Divad, it doesn't matter who started it. Do you remember-- David, what was the worst part about my job as a realtor? I complained to you about it all the time."

David thinks back. "People going through a divorce?"

"Exactly," Amy says. "Divad, Dvd-- That's what you two sound like. When you argue you're not trying to resolve anything, you're just hurting your system. And isn't that what you're all trying not to do?" She points at the notebook. "'We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do.'"

"He doesn't get to add things to our foundation," Dvd insists.

"You and David added plenty of things without him," Amy counters. "And these are all-- They're ideas you're trying to share. It's not your foundation until you all agree on it together. If you need help, start with your own contributions. 'We're all Davids. We're all going to get better. We have healthy multiplicity.' You wrote those yourself, you agreed to them with David. Were you lying to David?"

"Of course not!" Dvd protests. "But-- What he did--" He looks at David. "There's a line and he crossed it."

"I was trying to save us," Divad insists. "I know it was wrong, okay? That's why I wrote those." He points at the notebook. "'We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do.' So-- I'm sorry. I'm sorry! I screwed up, I hurt our system, I hurt David, I'm sorry. So stop yelling at me!"

"Liar," Dvd sneers. "You lied to me, you lied to my face and you--" He cuts himself off.

"Can you please just tell me?" David asks, exasperated. "I know it's been a long day, but-- Is it really that bad that you can't tell me?"

Divad looks to Dvd, and this is probably the one thing they can actually agree on. "Yes," they both say, like they're sharing.

David stands up and walks away, walks back. He rubs at his face. "I'm dealing with a lot here. And you guys-- You're not making this any easier. So if you're not ready to have an actual conversation about-- Whatever it's actually safe to talk about, then-- Then-- " He looks around, points to the window. "Project yourselves to the other side of that window so I don't have to be in the same room as you!"

"I'm the one in our body," Divad reminds him.

"Then give it back," David says, tersely.

"You two had it all day," Divad says. Even though he didn't want to step back in, now that he's here-- "It's my turn, remember?"

"What, you're not going to run away and drop it again?" Dvd sneers.

"Dvd," Cary chides. "Divad and David are both trying very hard. You've had your differences, you endured terrible trials, but-- No matter how bad things got, you were always together and you'll always be together. The only way you'll all get better together is if you accept each other."

"I don't want to accept him," Dvd tells Cary. "He's-- What he did to David--"

"It's very serious," Cary agrees. "It won't be overlooked. Divad has a great deal of work ahead of him. But he's acknowledged that and he's trying to take his first steps. He's trying to be better so your system can be better. Dvd, I know you're afraid that David will be hurt again, but you're not protecting him alone. We're all here to help you keep your system safe."

"That's right," Kerry adds. "You don't have to be afraid, okay? You know I won't let anything bad happen to David. If Divad tries anything, I'll punch him in the face, just like I punched you."

This seems to calm Dvd down. "And you'll kick him in the shins?" Dvd asks, with grudging relief.

"Really hard," Kerry promises.

"Okay," Dvd says. "But-- If he's lying--"

"We can all hear his thoughts," Cary reminds Dvd. "He can't lie to us. If Divad has any dangerous ideas hurting him, we'll know right away. We can help him fight those ideas before they make him hurt your system. Just like we did today. We heard the danger and we were able to help your system. Right?"

"Yeah," Dvd says, and looks around at everyone. "You did." He looks at Kerry again, and-- He relaxes.

Divad can't remember Dvd ever actually relaxing. None of them has ever been able to let down their guard. There was no one they could trust. They were on their own.

But they're not alone anymore. David trusts these people, his friends, their friends. And Dvd trusts them, too, or at least he trusts Kerry. Kerry was the one who David trusted when he couldn't trust anyone else. Kerry's words helped Divad write the ideas he wants to share with his system. Kerry just got Dvd to stop yelling at him, and even if she threatened to punch him-- She punched Dvd to protect David. Kerry was the one who was there for David when he woke up in their cell and she stayed with him and defended him and stopped him from hurting himself. Kerry loves David and she promised to keep him safe and she wasn't lying, even without hearing her thoughts they know she isn't lying.

If their system can trust one person the way they all trust Kerry--

Maybe she's their real foundation.

"Divad," Kerry says, and Divad turns to see her looking at him. She looks incredibly touched. She stands up. "I'm gonna give you a hug, okay?"

"Um, okay," Divad says, and it's not like he can say no when Kerry's already marching over, looking absolutely determined. She sits down on their lap and gives Divad a hug so tight he can barely breathe.

"This is for all the Davids," Kerry says. "I promise I'll keep all the Davids safe. No matter what, okay? If there's any bad ideas-- I'll stab them twice in the heart before they can hurt you."

Divad's not used to trusting people any more than Dvd is. Even working with Ptonomy-- He's helped their system so much but-- Kerry. She's--

She loves them. She really does.

Divad tightens his hold on her. David and Dvd-- he wants to be with them, but it's so hard. The anger, the guilt, the ideas in his head-- The delusions from their developmental trauma, from Farouk's lessons. Divad was supposed to be the one who protected David's mind but he failed. So now-- Both their minds needs protecting. All their minds. Kerry and all of their friends-- That's what they're doing. They're protecting all the Davids so all the Davids can get better.

Thank you, he thinks, to Kerry, to all of them.

Divad hears David longing to be the one in Kerry's arms, and he glances over and sees that Dvd wants that, too. But they can't all share together, not yet. And it's Divad's turn. He needs this. He presses their face against Kerry's shoulder, against her hair.

He hears David sit back down on the sofa. "Can we try this again?" David asks Dvd. "Please?"

Dvd gives a reluctant sigh. "Yeah, I guess. I mean-- They are some pretty good ideas. Not staying angry on purpose--" He looks over at Divad and Kerry. "That's one of Kerry's."

Divad eases his hold on Kerry. He needs to engage with his brothers. He doesn't let go of Kerry entirely, but lets her shift to face Dvd and David.

"They're all--" Divad starts. It's hard to open up to David and Dvd, but he can do it because he has Kerry. "We had-- We were taught wrong about-- A lot of things. We need to learn how to be a healthy system. So the ideas I wrote down-- They're from Kerry and Cary. How they are together, everything they do to-- Actually help each other."

Kerry picks up the notebook and looks over the ideas. She hands it to Cary and he reads them.

"Of course we heard--" Cary says, and adjusts his glasses. "But to hear you say it, to see how important we are to you-- I'm deeply honored, Divad. And I'd be honored for all of your system to accept our ideas. Kerry and I-- We have difficult moments ourselves. There will always be challenges. But as long as we face them together, trust each other, love each other--" He gives Kerry a meaningful look, and she smiles back.

Cary puts the notebook back on the table, angled so all the Davids can read it.

"Kerry," Cary says, bracing himself for something. "There's something I've been-- Afraid to tell you. Because I thought you'd be-- Terribly disappointed in me and-- Because I'm disappointed in myself."

"Cary?" Kerry asks, concerned. She turns in their lap. "What's wrong?"

"You've been doing so well, being-- The one of us on the outside," Cary says. "Seeing you thrive-- It means more to me than anything. But-- I need help, too. I need help-- Being inside."

Kerry frowns, confused. "But being inside is easy."

"It is for you," Cary allows. "But being inside was all you knew, until now. And until now-- All I knew was being outside. I know you want us to sleep together tonight as well, but-- I'm afraid."

Their arm is around Kerry's waist, and Kerry holds on to it. "You're afraid of me?" she asks, upset.

"No, no, of course not," Cary soothes. "I suppose-- I'm afraid of myself. Of how I've been-- Changed. Every time I've been inside you-- I don't know, maybe-- Perhaps I'm doing it wrong or perhaps we're simply not meant to be this way. But-- It's very difficult for me. I hoped it would get easier, and then I just wanted to help you be outside, but now that you want me to be inside-- I'm afraid it will be difficult again. I'm afraid-- I'll lose who I am."

"You'll never lose who you are," Kerry declares. "You're Cary."

Cary gives her a sad, vulnerable look. Kerry looks even more upset, but then-- She looks determined.

"You're right," Kerry says. "I'm outside now, so-- It's my turn to help you. And-- We don't have to sleep together tonight if you don't want to, but-- I guess-- I feel like-- I need you to be inside. Or maybe-- I needed that since we changed but-- I was still trying to be inside you so I got confused. You said-- We might get detachment syndrome, too? From physical projection?"

"It's possible," Cary admits. "I know we have a great deal on our plates already, but--"

Kerry leaves their lap and goes right to Cary's. "It'll be okay," she says, as they hug each other.

Divad hasn't known Cary long, even accounting for the time he got to know him through David. But he knows Cary is a protector like him. To see Cary genuinely asking for help, to see him vulnerable with Kerry, the one he's always kept safe-- Whether Cary meant it that way or not, it's one hell of a lesson. And a better lesson than anything Farouk ever taught them.

He looks at David. Maybe--

"David," he says, hoping this isn't a terrible mistake. Someone better stop him if this is a mistake. "I try not to be, but-- I'm-- I'm very angry about what happened to us. I felt-- Helpless. Because it was your life, but-- I still had to live it. So when you did things, when you were-- When you made the wrong choices--" He sees Amy wince, so he stops and tries again. "The things Farouk did to you. To us. It was-- It helped me survive to-- Not be you. That's-- What we are, our system. Me and Dvd-- We're not you. But we are you, we're all Davids, and-- Being angry at you for what happened-- I know it's just-- A way for me to-- Push all of that even further away from me. I know that. When I'm not angry I know that. When I get angry I want to punish you and--" He glances at Syd. There's really no better way to say this than the way she already did. "David, I don't want to punish you anymore."

David does not miss the similarity. He looks at Syd, too, but she can't see him do it. Syd stares at Divad like she's realizing something horrible. Divad's fairly sure what it is. Shit, he'd better clean this mess up before David has to.

"Syd," Divad says, turning to her. He's trying to remember how much of his session with Ptonomy was aloud and how much was through the relay. Would this be better or worse if Syd had the relay? "He didn't know. He couldn't remember me."

"Wait, hold on," David says, trying to take all this in. 'Is he saying-- I love Syd because-- She hurts me?'

Shit. Divad looks to Amy for help. But Lenny's already on damage control.

"Of course not," Lenny says. Then she stares pointedly at Syd. "Of course you don't love Syd just because she fucks up sometimes." She turns back to David. "You don't love Amy just because she fucks up sometimes, right?"

David starts to calm. "No, of course not."

"People fuck up all the time," Lenny continues. "You don't fall in love with all of them. You love her because you love her, and she loves you because she loves you. The end, cue the orchestra."

David looks at Syd. 'Does she love me? She said she does. She said she wants 'us' back. But--'

"Eh, save it for tomorrow morning," Lenny says. "This is Divad-time, not Syd-time. Remember, pick what you want to focus on and focus on it. Don't let it sneak off."

"Right," David says. 'Focus. We have to sleep together tonight. Divad just had a session-- I need to focus on Divad.' He looks to Divad. "Um, where were we?"

Divad can't help but be amused. David is still David, no matter what he remembers. And if Lenny gives her approval, then telling David was the right choice. "I was saying-- I need your help so I can-- Learn how to be-- A David." At David's confusion, he continues. "Dvd hates me so much because-- We used to share everything. And then I stopped. I turned my back on our system. I made decisions for all of us, I treated you-- Very badly." In the end he treated David like he wasn't even there. And Farouk loves to twist the knife, so he made it so that-- Divad wasn't there. "Dvd's right. College was my fault."

"Mark the calendar," Dvd says, grimly pleased.

"Divad--" David starts, concerned.

"It's okay," Divad insists. "Farouk knows us, right? He knows us better than we know ourselves. Not just you. He was-- Teaching me one of his lessons." He feels a bubble of panic in their chest, thinking of all the lessons. He's not sure if it makes him feel better or worse to think of them that way. It was abuse, Farouk wasn't teaching them anything but misery. But they learned it anyway.

"It's not okay," David says, and he's-- Actually angry. But not at Divad. "He trapped you inside m-- Our body for a decade. That's-- He did that to me for a few days and I'm--" 'A disaster.'

"It's not the same," Divad insists. "We're a system. Even when me and Dvd were trapped, our system was still in control. That monster was never part of our system."

"But he was always there," David says, unhappily. "I just didn't know. And I don't-- I barely even know how to be David, much less a David. If you want to learn that--" He looks to Dvd.

"Oh no," Dvd says, crossing his arms. "Not a chance."

"You have to," David insists. "You're the only one who can help Divad be a David."

"That doesn't even make any sense," Dvd grouches. "We're all Davids, that's just what we are. And-- And Lenny was the one who decided that!"

"Passing the buck, huh?" Lenny says, amused. "I'm passing it back.”

“Divad,” Amy says. “What does it mean to you to be a David?"

Divad isn't sure, he was just trying to be like Cary. Their inside/outside thing isn't exactly the same, but-- He's just-- Trying to figure out how to-- Not be alone. "It means not being alone," he admits. "When I was in charge and Dvd and David were together all the time-- They didn't need me so I didn't need them. What you said about divorce-- We can't leave each other physically, but-- I still left. And that hurt our system so-- I'm sorry for hurting our system."

"So being a David is-- Being together?" Amy prompts. "Accepting them and-- Being accepted?"

Divad shrugs. He feels incredibly uncomfortable asking for all this, being so vulnerable. He's still braced for Dvd to start yelling at him again or for his own anger to take control of him. If it was just the three of them, they'd never have gotten this far. But their friends are protecting them from their anger, pulling them back from-- Dangerous thoughts. Giving them better ones.

That's supposed to be Divad's job. That's why he was always telling David what not to do, what not to think. But he didn't do the other part of the job. He didn't have any good thoughts to replace the dangerous ones with. And there were never any good choices, so-- All he ended up doing was-- Telling David to not do anything, over and over, until David couldn't do anything. And then that was how Divad rationalized-- Never letting David ever do anything again.

He never had to hurt David and he doesn’t now. But the more he accepts that-- The more sick he feels. The more he feels like-- He's the one who ruined everything. That being imprisoned for all those years-- The monster's lesson was right. It was what he deserved.

Amy takes their hand and holds it in both of hers. "None of you ruined anything," she tells him. "You were tortured by a monster that you had no way to escape. You did the best you could in a terrible situation. Of course you made mistakes, but-- your mistakes aren't who you are. The shame you feel isn't who you are. You have to find forgiveness, from yourself and those you hurt. Just like they need to find forgiveness for their mistakes. Just like we all do."

Divad looks at their hand in Amy's. He meets her eyes. He's been-- Trying to find forgiveness for her. For Clockworks, for the things David heard, for making them take medication they didn't need, for not believing them for so long. He's never been angry at Amy the same way he gets angry at David, but-- Forgiveness is difficult.

Maybe-- If he forgives Amy, it will help him forgive David. It will help him forgive himself. What was it Syd said? No, she was talking about David forgiving himself, not how to forgive other people. How does he forgive someone else?

"How to forgive someone else?" Ptonomy asks, as he walks up to them. "It's not really about the person we're forgiving. It's something we do for ourselves. Refusing to forgive-- What that really means is not letting ourselves heal. Keeping those wounds open, holding on to our anger, our hate, our bitterness. We use that pain as an armor around our hearts and it feels like protection, but that armor keeps out all the good things, too."

Ptonomy has everyone's undivided attention.

"But that's the why," Ptonomy continues. "As for the how? It's a lot like forgiving yourself. Start by accepting what happened. Process the emotions, the experience. Figure out what you got from it, good and bad. Think about why the other person did it, their perspective. If there's something you need to learn, learn it. Then let the rest go. Let yourself heal and allow yourself to feel all the good things that couldn't get past that armor. You're having trouble forgiving Amy, so where are you stuck?"

"Um," Divad starts. Where is he stuck? Has he even accepted what happened to them?

"I don't think you're in denial," Ptonomy says. "You're aware of what happened to you, despite your attempts to emotionally distance yourself. How about processing? Have you talked about what you went through with anyone?"

Divad shakes his head. There was no one he could talk to. He didn't need to tell his brothers, they were there with him, and then David couldn't hear him and Dvd didn't want to. And no one else even knew he was there.

"Well, you have plenty of people who know you're here now," Ptonomy says, warmly. "You can talk to any of us about anything you want. We want to get to know you, Divad. All of you. And no one's ever going to forget you exist again. People all over the world know about you now. You're not going to be forgotten, okay?"

Divad didn't expect those words to affect him so much. He's not going to be forgotten. But they bring sudden tears to their eyes. Divad wipes them away. It's not as overwhelming to be upset in their body as it was before. He's not sure if he's getting used to it again or if all this therapy is working.

"Probably both," Ptonomy says. "That's why it's so important for each of you to be in your system's body for your sessions. It's going to help us get through all that pain your body has been holding on to."

That makes sense. But Divad can't stop thinking about-- Being able to talk to someone. Not just trade angry barbs in a desperate attempt to stay sane. He's not sure if he's ready yet, he's already feeling-- Like their body needs to rest. Like he needs to rest, to let-- All of this settle.

"I think that's a good idea," Ptonomy says. "We'll have dinner and make it an early night. But I think before we do that, you should finish talking to your brothers."

Divad takes a deep breath and wipes at their eyes again. "Yeah, um." He turns to his brothers. "I'm sorry. Again. For--" He takes another steadying breath. "David, I'm sorry for yelling at you, for being-- Cruel to you. And Dvd-- I'm sorry for turning my back on our system. For not sharing. We're supposed to share. We're supposed to be there for each other, not-- Making things worse. I'm sorry for making things worse."

"I'm not ready to forgive you," Dvd says, plainly. "But-- I'll think about it."

Divad looks to David. David looks torn, unsurprisingly. "I'm not ready either," he admits. "I know we have this-- Entire history. But--"

"I know," Divad says. "It's okay that you can't remember. It's okay. I just-- Want to apologize for the things I did that you can remember. Telling you-- Not to hope for anything. That you're not a good person and don't deserve love. That you’re a useless piece of shit--"

"That's-- Really enough," David says, holding up a hand. 'I didn't need all those reminders.'

"Yeah," Divad admits, wincing. How does David apologize so much? It's agonizing. "Yeah. That was-- Those were not good ideas, man. I'm really sorry." He wishes he could take them all back, but-- They just have to work with what they have, even if what they have includes Divad really screwing the pooch right out of the gate.

Shit. He's supposed to be giving David less pain, not more. But Ptonomy said to give his brothers time to process how they felt. So he has to do that. But he doesn't want David to think about the cruel things he said. He shouldn't have said them again.

"I'm sorry for saying those things again," Divad tries. Maybe-- He's learned that to get rid of bad ideas there has to be something good to replace them. So maybe-- "I only said them because I was angry. But I'm not angry now, so-- I want you to hope for-- Everything and-- You're a really good person and you deserve-- All the love from everybody and-- You're not useless, you're-- Really useful. Helpful? Good at doing things."

David smiles at that, amused. "Thank you," he says, and-- Now he has less pain. He feels better. And Divad feels better, too.

Chapter 75: Day 10: You are not that lamp. (David, Cary)

Chapter Text

Divad is still the one in their body when Oliver stops relaying for dinner.

It's okay. It's only fair. David got breakfast, Dvd got lunch, so Divad gets dinner. And it's been a long, exhausting day, but-- David's holding on. He's okay. Lenny did a great job. She was right about not doing any more possession therapy today. It's not just David that needs to get better, and he's as much a part of Divad and Dvd and even Syd's therapy as they're a part of his. He can't work himself into the ground if he's going to be there for them.

And really, after the day he's had, David's needs to just-- Exist for a while, without doing anything. So it's okay that he's-- Invisible and inaudible. He still has his brothers, and Oliver can hear him even when he's not relaying.

But his brothers aren't up for much conversation either. They're both quiet, thoughtful in a way he's never seen them be. Dvd's even made a mental projection of their system notebook to study, since Divad has the real one. They're thinking over their foundation ideas, thinking over their session work, and all of that is-- Exactly what they need to do. David wants them to do it.

Dvd glances at him, amused. So does Divad.

"Yeah, yeah," David says, waving them off. He might not be able to guard his thoughts, but-- Just pretend not to hear him for a while, okay?

"Okay," Dvd says, and turns back to the notebook.

Hmph.

Anyway. Where was he?

They're all together around the table, as usual, whether they can eat or not. So David takes the opportunity to watch everyone unobserved. Being this way, there's no expectations. It's disconcerting, being looked through, being unable to touch, but-- He doesn't feel like a ghost. It's like-- Being a kid and playing hide-and-seek. He remembers playing hide-and-seek with Amy. He liked watching her look for him, he liked-- Being sought. Looking back, it was like-- Proof that he was wanted.

Not that David should have needed proof in the happy childhood of his memories. But now that he knows those memories aren't wholly true, he's starting to notice-- The seams. The inconsistencies. A little boy who always felt completely loved, but needed proof of that love. Farouk didn't start from scratch. Maybe he couldn't.

David has these moments a lot, when he's not caught up in one thing or another. He used to remember so much. Remembering was how he survived, how he escaped, how he pieced himself back together. In his darkest moments, the love in those memories was all he had to get him through. And he's had a lot of darkest moments.

It's a lot to give up, all that love. But most of the time, all he wants to do is reject every single one of his memories, good and bad. Most of them aren't even his. They're-- Baby David's memories, Divad's memories, even Dvd's. Those memories are how Farouk remade him into what he is now, into Farouk's David.

David doesn't want to be Farouk's David anymore. He wants to be his own David. He wants to reject everything that he was and start from scratch. But he can't. He can't unmix his cocktail mind. He can't get those real memories back. If he throws out the little has left-- That can't make him stronger. And he has to be strong.

But accepting his memories-- He's not sure he can do that either. He definitely can't accept them as they are. He needs to find-- The seams, the inconsistencies. The evidence that the memories used to belong to the David-that-was, to himself before he was remade. To the little boy who needed proof he was loved because he knew he was a mutant. Because he had a monster in his head making that idyllic countryside into a living nightmare.

But he’s not that David anymore, the David-that-was. He doesn’t want to go back to being— So broken he had to be a passenger in his own body. David will never be grateful for a single thing Farouk did to him, never ever in a billion years, but— The life he had—

It doesn’t matter. Farouk only remade him to break him again. There was nothing better about being a hopeless, bewildered junkie who tried to kill himself and ended up in Clockworks for a fifth of his life. There was nothing better about not knowing why he was terrified all the time. There’s nothing better about being tricked into hurting people.

David needs a moment. He knows the rule is to always stay with someone, but— He needs a moment. He leaves the table and goes over to a loveseat and— Just sits there, breathing. Or going through the motions of breathing, because he’s a mental projection.

He’s David. He survived. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. He belongs to himself. David is love. There are things he lost that he’ll never get back. But he’s here and he’s not alone. He’s loved and there’s no shame in love. He’s strong enough to heal.

Okay, that’s a little— That’s better. He’s David and he survived and it doesn’t matter how many Davids he’s made of. He doesn’t have to be anybody but himself.

Whoever that is.

He slumps back against the loveseat and wonders why he can sit on a chair but his legs go through the coffee table. Being a mutant is weird. Powers are weird. His entire life is absolutely absurd. If it was a movie people would walk out halfway through, shaking their heads, and all the reviews would be about how dark and confusing it was.

He doesn’t feel— Remotely able to stop Farouk for Division 3. He doesn’t see how he ever will be. He knows on paper he’s more powerful than Farouk. He knows that. But he doesn’t feel it. He feels like a victim, not a hero. He feels like his lamp, broken into too many pieces to ever be whole, no matter how much packing tape they use to hold him together. He wants to heal, he’s trying with everything he has to heal. He just doesn’t see how everything he has will ever be enough.

He sighs. Maybe he’s just afraid. Maybe all of this is just him trying to prepare himself for failure. He looks across the lab at his bed and all he feels is dread. Sharing his body— Their body. His body. Feeling someone else inside him. He wanted to make more progress with his possession trauma, he really— If he was strong he could have kept going. If he was strong he wouldn’t be afraid. If he was strong, he could have done— Something. He could have done something to make it stop.

He couldn’t.

No David has ever been able to make it stop, but this David is the most useless of all. And of course he is. Farouk designed this David to fail. That’s what he was made for: to be tortured and to fail. That’s just— A fact. It’s not an idea or a belief, it’s a fact. That’s what he is: a bespoke victim, perfectly tailored to the needs of a monster.

He doesn’t want to be that. But he is. They need him, but— he’s the weakest link in the chain. He’s what’s going to break first. He always will. He was made to break.

He hears someone approaching and looks up to see his brothers. Divad is carrying the rocket lamp. He puts it down on the table and—

“Hey!” David protests, reaching out to stop him from picking at the packing tape. But his hand goes right through. And then Dvd pulls him back into the loveseat and holds him there with a firm but friendly arm.

“So you know what I said to Divad?” Dvd says, as David stares in horror. “I said, if he compares himself to that fucking lamp one more time, I’m gonna smash this one like I smashed the other one. And then Divad — this is how you know he’s the thinker — he said, we should fix it instead.”

Divad has the edge of the tape now, and he’s peeling it away.

“And then Cary said, fix what?” Dvd continues. “You know how Cary loves fixing things. And Kerry said, that sounds like it’d be really good fine motor therapy for Oliver and Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy.”

Everyone else comes over and sits down. Cary and Kerry arrive last, with a medical tray and a bunch of supplies.

“No sitting alone,” Ptonomy chides, but fondly. “That’s why.”

Syd takes the shade and Oliver unscrews the bulb. After the first layer of tape comes off, Divad puts the lamp in the tray and keeps unwinding. David watches in horror as pieces of the ceramic rocket start falling into the tray, as the structural integrity fails and the entire thing collapses into a heap of rubble.

Were they trying to make the rocket lamp even more of a metaphor for his life? Because they just did. He’s too shocked to cry, but he’s devastated.

“You are not that lamp,” Dvd tells him, his voice as firm as his grip. “But since we’re stuck with that delusion, we’re gonna roll with it. We’re gonna fix that lamp just like we’re fixing you. Together. And trust me, anyone could do a better job than an escaped mental patient weaning himself off an insane amount of Haldol. Those nurses handed it out like candy.”

“All right,” Cary says, assessing the damage. “Let’s see what we have.”

Kerry pokes at the rubble and makes a face. “They’re sticky. And the paint’s coming off.”

“Packing tape is not a good long-term adhesive,” Cary says, gently chiding in David’s direction. “We’ll get all the ceramic pieces cleaned up, let them dry overnight. We’ll start assembling tomorrow. And this motor simply needs replacing.”

“What about this?” Syd asks, carefully holding out the battered shade.

Cary takes it, inspects it. “Hm, it’s metal. We’ll flatten it out, sand it, then weld it back together. A fresh coat of paint and it’ll be good as new.”

Good as new? It’s destroyed. He’s destroyed.

“David says he’s destroyed,” Divad relays.

“Oh yeah?” Lenny says. She takes the shade from Cary. “Guess he won’t need this, then.”

“Wait,” David starts, reaching for it, but Dvd pulls him back again.

Lenny puts her hand to her ear, listening. “Hmm, nothing. Oh well, if there’s no David left, we should just throw it out.”

“Lenny!” David protests, and Divad holds up a hand, motioning for her to wait. David scowls at all of them. “You guys are the worst, you know that?”

“If by worst you mean the best, absolutely,” Dvd says. “You know, here me and Divad are, working really hard to stop hurting our system. And what do you do? You hurt our system.”

“I didn’t do anything!” David protests.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Divad says. “You’re scared so you hurt yourself. Like how when Dvd’s scared he hurts me, and when I’m scared I hurt you. You want us to be strong? You gotta stop hurting our system.”

David wishes they were wrong.

“David,” Ptonomy says, looking roughly in the right place. “What’s the oldest part of your mantra? The part that’s stayed put no matter what you changed?”

“Um,” David thinks. It would have been— What Cary told him after he got his DID diagnosis. “There are things I lost that I’ll never get back. But I’m here and I’m not alone.”

Divad relays for him.

“Now say that last part again, the very end.”

“I’m not alone?” David says.

“You’ve been telling yourself to believe those words for days. But you keep thinking you’re doing this on your own. You’re not.”

David sighs. He knows that. He knows it, but—

“You know it, but you don’t believe it,” Divad says, understanding.

“We know how much your lamp means to you,” Ptonomy says, gently. “So we’re going to use that. We’re going to fix your lamp and you’re going to watch us fixing it. So every time you look at this lamp — and I know you look at it a lot — you’re going to remember us making it whole. And maybe that will help you truly accept that you’re not alone.”

David looks at them, gathered around the— The pieces. He feels like the pieces and— God, it’s terrifying to be known so well that they can do this and it will work, he knows it will work and he can’t stop it from working, and this is—

It’s what Farouk does to him. Which is— Even more terrifying because it shows exactly how— Completely helpless he is to stop him. They’re just— Fucked, inescapably fucked.

“Shit,” Dvd mutters. And the next thing David knows, he’s on the sofa and Amy’s pulling him close.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Amy soothes. “Come on, stay with us.”

David clings to her, riding the wave of— Absolute terror that rises up inside him. He needs to stay, he has to, going away doesn’t help him, the things he needs are here, Amy is here.

There’s a moment where it’s all too much.

And then it passes. The terror passes and he doesn’t go away.

“Okay, that was pushing our luck,” Lenny admits. “But hey, still holding that streak!”

“Group effort,” Ptonomy says, annoyed and relieved.

David sobs against Amy’s hair. No tears, just gasping breaths, the emotion forcing itself out of his chest. He already felt exhausted, now he’s just—

“Take it easy,” Ptonomy soothes. “You’re okay.”

He’s not okay, nothing’s okay. But the terror’s fading anyway. His body can’t sustain it. It can’t sustain anything. It’s been through so much today, it can’t take any more. He’s not going away, but he thinks— He might—

“David!” Amy calls, alarmed, and then—

§

David’s eyes roll back and he slumps in Amy’s arms. If she didn’t have an android body, his limp weight might have knocked her over. But she holds him easily as Cary rushes over.

“What happened?” Amy asks, extremely worried. “Did he go away?”

“He’s unconscious,” Oliver says. “He isn't refusing to exist. The rest of him is quite concerned.”

Cary checks David over. His pulse is slow and weak despite his agitation. Cary pulls back David’s eyelids and sees that his eyes are dilated. “Vasovagal syncope,” he decides. “He should wake up in a few minutes. Let’s get him into the recovery position.”

David’s fainted in front of Cary twice before, each time under enormous mental strain. When David first came to Summerland, he was unprepared for the strength of so many mutant minds all under one roof. He passed out right into Cary’s arms. And then when David was negotiating with Clark, Cary’s halo couldn’t protect David from the mutant overpowering him from within. And again Cary found himself crading David in his arms.

And now here they are again. David’s fainted under an enormous mental strain caused by other mutants. And Cary’s holding David in his arms, feeling responsible for him, feeling guilty for failing to protect his patient, his friend.

Cary cradles David’s head with great care, not wanting any harm to come to him as they lay him onto his side. He places a pillow under David’s head so there’s no pressure on the crown, as they’ve been careful to do for days. Cary feels terrible guilt for the pain that the Davids endure from the crown, for the toll it takes on them. Cary didn’t care that the design would be painful, not when it was destined for Farouk. That monster deserves to suffer. But the pain meant for him only came back around. The crown is just another weapon to Farouk, another way to make the Davids suffer for their abuser’s delight. But they still need it.

Cary hasn’t found a way to make the crown not hurt. He’s afraid of what would happen if he does, if he makes— Suppression of mutant powers easy and morally acceptable. Non-lethal weapons can still be abused, can still destroy the lives they’re meant to save. Cary doesn’t trust the Divisions to use that power responsibly. But that means the Davids pay the price. The best they can do is get the Davids stable as fast as they can, so the crown won’t be necessary. But there’s a price for that, too.

Amy sits on the edge of the sofa and touches David’s hand, his body, soothing him.

“I’m afraid this is our fault,” Cary admits. “This method of simultaneous therapy— It's very effective. But the physical body has its own limits. Processing all that trauma in such a short time was clearly too much.”

“Okay,” Ptonomy accepts. “We had to do a lot of heavy lifting today to get everyone on the same page. But everyone's on the same page now, right?" He asks the question to Divad and Dvd.

"They are," Oliver relays.

"What set all this off?" Ptonomy asks.

"The possession trauma," Oliver relays. He listens some more. "David-- That is, Divad and Dvd are arguing over how to handle the situation."

"That's our job," Ptonomy tells them. "You two aren't getting out of therapy. That's not an option. You both have a lot of work to do. But as long as you keep doing the work--" He trails off meaningfully.

"They both promise to keep doing the work," Oliver relays.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Then in the short term, we can prioritize David's possession trauma."

"If he does a full day of that, it's gonna break him," Lenny reminds him.

"It won't be a full day," Ptonomy says. "Divad and Dvd need their turns and there's plenty of work they can do that will be easier on their body. And David needs time with Syd. But if possession trauma is what's making David that terrified, we have to get him through it."

"Ah, he's waking up," Oliver warns them.

David stirs. Amy's holding his hand, and he grips back weakly.

“Do we need to change our plan for tonight?” Ptonomy asks, quickly.

“No,” Cary says, confident. “But— Be delicate?”

“I can be delicate,” Lenny insists.

Ptonomy gives her a disbelieving look. But they all go quiet so David can wake up in peace.

"David," Amy calls, softly. "David?"

David's eyes flutter open. He's disoriented, confused, but too exhausted to move.

"There you are," Amy says, fondly. "Everything's okay. You're okay."

"What happened?" David asks, slurred.

"You almost went away," Amy says. "But we got you back in your body and you did really well. You stayed. But-- Your body's been through a lot today. A little too much. So it passed out. But it's okay now."

"Everything's just fine," Cary assures him. He's found that a confident voice always helps his patients. "But don't try to sit up. You need to lie still, let your body recover."

David gives a weak nod. Amy keeps holding his hand, touching him, helping him ground himself.

That close call and then the fainting-- That's a one-two punch for the knockout, as far as Cary's concerned. He gives David a reassuring smile and then steps away, gesturing for Ptonomy to join him in the hall.

"I recommend we let David rest," Cary tells him, quietly. "Amy and his brothers can stay with him, and perhaps Lenny. But he's had far too much stress today, physically and mentally. He needs calm and quiet company."

"Okay," Ptonomy says.

"When he's able to sit up, get him ready for bed and we'll set him up for sleep," Cary continues. "Kerry and I can take care of Oliver first. If you're confident that the, ah, Divad situation is under control?"

"I think we're good for tonight," Ptonomy says. "This gave everyone a scare, including them. We'll get Divad and Dvd working on their anger management tomorrow. But-- I need to know what Oliver heard in David's thoughts. Let me talk to him before you put him out?"

"Of course," Cary says. "I have to say, I'm very impressed by Divad's expertise. His knowledge coupled with his direct control-- If we can help him, he has the potential to transform our understanding of the body and mind."

"You want him for Division 4?" Ptonomy asks.

"How could I resist?" Cary admits. "And he could be an incredible asset to Division 2's pure research. But obviously-- His recovery, all of David's recovery is the priority."

"Just be careful," Ptonomy warns. "I'm very concerned about their whole system's attachment to Farouk. They're constantly struggling against the belief that he knows what's right for them, that they deserve what he does to them."

"Dvd seems to have escaped most of that," Cary offers.

"He has a lot of David's defiance," Ptonomy agrees. "And pretty much all of his self-protection. We're lucky that Dvd's love for David is so strong. You and Kerry-- That was a brave thing you did today. It really helped."

"Would you believe that it really was more for me than them?" Cary asks. "Seeing the values they saw in us-- If I didn't follow them myself--"

"If you need any help with being inside--" Ptonomy offers.

"Thank you," Cary says. "I might, but-- I think this is-- System work, for now."

"Understood," Ptonomy says.

"Do you really think--" Cary starts. "Farouk tortured them horribly. Even with developmental trauma--"

"As you said yourself, David accepted the abuse," Ptonomy says, regretful. "Divad and David each took a share. The fact that David helped Farouk, went back to him again and again, listened to him--"

"David believed he didn't have a choice," Cary defends.

"He didn't," Ptonomy says. "But it wasn't just Syd and Future Syd making decisions for him. The Davids had the power to stop Farouk, to be rid of the monster once and for all. But some part of them-- Resisted. That resistance expresses itself in a lot of ways, mostly fear and anger, but-- It's attachment."

Cary thinks about the time he went back to stay with his mother, before she died. She was in poor health and Cary wanted to help her, but-- Living in that house, being subjected to her anger-- He felt like a frightened child again, cowed and helpless, even though there was nothing she could do to physically harm him. It took everything he had to walk away from her, and he did it for Kerry's sake, not his own.

Attachment. A simple word to describe-- The way someone cruel can hold your heart in their hands.

"Yes," Cary agrees, regretful himself. "That's a very-- Difficult thing to treat."

§

Amy and Lenny keep the Davids company while David rests. Ptonomy talks to Oliver, and Syd cleans up from dinner. Kerry joins Cary in making the final adjustments to the sleep inducers.

"Are we gonna have to wear these, too?" Kerry asks.

"Only if Farouk tries to reach us through our dreams," Cary says. "Thankfully that hasn't happened." Presumably hearing their thoughts every waking moment is enough for him. Cary tries not to shudder, but shudders anyway.

"I wish we could sleep together tonight," Kerry says, wistful. "But maybe tomorrow?"

"Perhaps," Cary says, but without his usual cheer. He can't lie to her about this. He can't be a bad example for the Davids.

"We'll figure it out together," Kerry says, and hugs him.

Cary holds her back and thinks how grateful he is to have her. Kerry's always been-- The best thing in his life. He's always been willing to sacrifice himself for her well-being. He sheltered her, he comforted her, he took her wounds for her, no matter how much it cost him.

But he can't do any of that anymore. He was changed and-- Now he's something else. He's denied that change for Kerry's sake, but-- That won't work anymore, not now that she needs him to accept it.

He thinks of Dvd's acceptance of how David has changed. It was very hard for him, terribly painful, but-- What matters is that they're together. Cary knows that no matter how he and Kerry change, what matters is that they're together.

It really does help, having another system around. Maybe-- DID patients often suffer terrible treatment, a double cruelty when their lives are already so harsh. The same with schizophrenics. Oliver's dream was always about helping the people who need help most. If Division 4 becomes a reality-- Cary wants to do everything he can to make sure no one else is treated the way he and David were treated, like they were too broken to be worth saving.

Everyone is worth saving. Oliver told him that the day he found them. Cary didn't believe him then, because he didn't feel like he was worth being saved himself. But that was someone else's poison in his foundation. It was someone else's delusion, put inside him when he was too young to protect himself. That's his attachment to his abuser, his belief that she was right to hurt him. That's his shame.

The only true antidote to shame is love. The love of others, the love of the self. That's the only answer anyone has found.

§

When David's finally fit to stand, he lets Amy help him get ready for the night. He's so tired, mind and body. He remembers-- Amy standing beside him in the bathroom, teaching him to brush his teeth. Amy pulling on his pajamas. Amy kissing him on the forehead as she tucked him in.

The seams. The inconsistencies. It must have been-- Their mom, doing those things. Or she did when she wasn't too sick. It must have been Mom tucking Baby David in and kissing him goodnight with all her love.

It must not have been a big leap, to make a cocktail out of Mom and Amy.

A bubble of grief catches in his throat and pops.

"David?" Amy asks, concerned. "Oh, look at you." She takes a tissue and wipes the tears from his face, then she hugs him.

David feels like a fraud, loving her. His love for her isn't even-- It's Divad's love for Amy, it's David's love for Mom, it's-- Another cocktail, another creation. Even this.

But he still loves her with all his heart. Their heart. His-- Cocktail heart. What else can he do?

Ptonomy and Cary are waiting when they all convene at David's bed. Their bed. Ptonomy gestures for David to lie down, and Amy tucks him in.

"We're gonna keep this really simple," Ptonomy tells them. "Divad's going to help you sleep, just like he's been doing. When you're out, Dvd and Divad will join you. Then Cary will turn this on."

Cary shows him the device. "It's a sleep inducer," he explains. "I already set Oliver up with his, to help his mind sleep with his body. It's an artificial version of the same thing Divad does for you. It will keep your whole system asleep. We'll monitor you and wake you up in the morning, so you’ll get a good night’s sleep without any bad dreams.”

“All that means you’re not going to feel anything different,” Ptonomy assures him. “It’s going to be just like every night. Okay?”

David looks at his brothers. They’re going to be inside him. They need to share, that’s how they work. They all need to be together to heal.

He’s not going to feel anything different. He’s not going to feel it. And— It's like the dreams. If he doesn’t feel it, if he can’t remember it, it’s like it never happened. The opposite of— Remembering Benny as Lenny. They both remember that so it happened for them.

“Okay,” he says, but he holds Amy’s hand tightly.

He wishes he could fall asleep looking at his lamp. But they’re fixing it so— They can fix him.

He starts to feel— So sleepy. He can’t keep his eyes open. He squeezes Amy’s hand and then he lets his eyes close.

Chapter 76: Interlude II: Café serré á la David. (Past David)

Chapter Text

David wakes up screaming. Again. But before he can hurt their body, before his half-asleep mind can do any damage, Amahl is there, holding him.

"You're all right," Amahl soothes, as David gasp and cries in his arms. "Everything's all right. You're safe now. You're safe with Amahl."

Safe. He's safe.

David still can't fully believe that. He's never been safe. The monster's always been there, waiting, watching, listening. It's always been there, either torturing David or waiting for David to recover enough to be worth torturing. In David's nightmares, the nightmares he's had every night for a week, the monster is back and there's nothing David can do to stop him.

But the monster is gone. David's awake and the monster is gone because Amahl got the monster out. The monster's been out of their brain for months, since their seizure and their surgery, but David's mind hasn't been able to catch up to the reality of their body. Every time he wakes up screaming from his nightmares, Amahl is there to hold him, to anchor him in reality. It's a little easier each time to accept that this is happening: that the monster is gone, that Amahl is keeping him safe. That he doesn't have to be afraid anymore.

The nightmares feel so real, but-- This is reality. This is happening. He has to accept that this is happening.

As the terror fades, David eases his grip, but as always Amahl keeps holding him.

"You must-- Really miss-- Sleeping through the night," David sniffs, his tears soaking into Amahl's pyjamas.

"A small sacrifice for my favorite patient," Amahl says, warmly.

"I'm your only patient," David counters. But Amahl's kindness still makes him feel better, even if he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve any of this, but it's happening to him anyway.

Like he does every time this happens, while he's still in Amahl's embrace, he reaches out for Divad and Dvd. If anything should bring them back, it's his distress. But like every time he tries to find them, he finds nothing. They're still gone. He's still alone in their body.

He still doesn't understand how that's possible, but it's happening to him anyway. A lot of things are happening to him and it doesn't matter if he understands them, it doesn't matter if he wants them, it doesn't matter if he believes in them. They're still happening. By most definitions, that makes them real.

When he's calmed enough, he draws back, and Amahl lets him go.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Amahl asks, like he always does.

David shakes their head.

"Do you think you'll be able to get back to sleep?" Amahl asks.

David shakes their head.

"All right," Amahl says. "I'll make us some coffee. Then we shall begin."

David watches Amahl get up and putter around the lab. It's soothing, watching him just-- Take things in stride. Amahl doesn't get mad at David for waking them both up in the middle of the night. He doesn't try to force David back to sleep, with words or drugs. He just accepts that they're awake and gets the day started. And when David gets tired in the afternoon, when they both get tired because they didn't get enough sleep, they just-- Take a nap together, for as long as they need to. And when David wakes up from the inevitable second nightmare of the day, Amahl is there for him, holding him until he calms, anchoring him to reality again.

Not having Divad and Dvd-- David didn't think he'd ever be able to survive that, to even exist without them. But here he is, existing. Existence is happening to him.

Amahl brings over the coffee: one tiny cup for himself, full of his usual café serré. And one regular cup for David, the exact same coffee but cut with plenty of cream and sugar. David tried one sip of that stuff plain the first night they did this, and it was so black and bitter he couldn't even swallow it. So now Amahl makes café serré á la David, just for him.

"Here you go, my dear," Amahl says, handing him his cup. "Just as you like. Shall we toast? To another productive day."

They clink their cups together. It feels like a promise. David drinks his café serré á la David, and Amahl gives him an approving smile before sipping from his own cup.

Safe With Amahl, illustrated by Abigailsins

Their days begin before dawn, when the world outside and the hospital below are still asleep. Amahl checks on their arms. Amahl doesn't want their arms to have any ugly scars. David hacked them up badly with that broken plate, so they need extra care to heal right. Amahl has them wrapped in some kind of special sheeting, and even though David assumed there were stitches underneath the bandages when he woke up, Amahl used glue to close the wounds. David's never heard of that, but Amahl assured him that it's the best treatment.

Amahl has often assured him that he will only ever give David the best possible treatment, because David has suffered so much mistreatment from his misdiagnosis. David can't say he minds the assurances.

Amahl unwraps the sheeting. The wounds are still vivid, but no longer inflamed.

"Excellent," Amahl says. "You're doing very well, David. Your arms are healing very well. I think they're ready for the next treatment." At David's questioning look, he continues. "Remember how we spoke about healing? First the bleeding must be stopped. The wounds must be quickly sealed to prevent infection. Then the body begins to rebuild, to pull the wounds closed. The glue, the sheeting, these are ways I helped your body do these things. Now I shall help it heal without the terrible scars you fear."

"How?"

"Like this," Amahl says, and takes one arm in his hands. He places his thumbs on either side of the scar and--

"Ow!" David startles back, but Amahl holds him.

"There is only a little pain," Amahl says, a gentle chiding. "The skin must be stretched to align the fibers of your wound. Otherwise they will clump up, become unhealthy." He pauses. "May I continue?"

David reluctantly nods. He braces himself, hissing through his clenched teeth as Amahl stretches the wounds.

It feels like it takes forever.

When it's done, and Amahl takes the first arm and massages it. David winces, sore, but-- Then it starts to feel better.

"We'll do this every morning," Amahl tells him. "Remodel the wounds, and then massage the tissue. All right?"

David nods. Amahl is always explaining things, asking for his permission, which feels-- Largely unnecessary, when David's obviously mentally incapable of consenting to anything and wouldn't know a right decision if it came up and bit him. But-- It's comforting. Amahl knows what's best for him and wants the best for him. He wants David to be whole. He wants him to heal so they can help the whole world heal. David still doesn’t understand all that, but it’s happening anyway.

When he's done, Amahl wraps their arms again. "Our bodies, David. They are messy, imperfect. We must teach them to be better. We must teach them to heal the right way. If we don't, they become like scar tissue: disorganized, inflexible, ugly. It was once thought inevitable that the aging of our bodies would bring the loss of our minds. But we know now that there is no truth to this. There is much we can recover from, many diseases that will cease to afflict us, once we know their proper treatment."

David lets most of that flow past him. Amahl can be very grandiose but it's mostly beyond David's comprehension. He couldn't even make it through high school before Divad had to take charge full-time, and even before that it wasn't as though they were the best student. It was hard to keep up when there was a monster in their head, hurting them and scaring them and making them see and hear things that weren't there. The only thing that saved their grades was David being able to read minds.

And now he can't. He still can't hear any thoughts from anyone. He can't make things happen by thinking. He's powerless and alone and-- If it wasn't for Amahl-- David wouldn't care if their wounds healed the right way. He wouldn't care what happened to their body because it wouldn't be their body anymore, it wouldn't be anyone's body because--

"David," Amahl says, pulling David out of his dark thoughts. "Come. Let us get dressed and have breakfast."

They each have their turn in the lab's bathroom, and by the time they're done, a breakfast tray has been left just inside the door by Amahl's mysterious assistant. David's never seen them, he only knows they exist because they bring things and take them away.

David hasn't actually seen anyone but Amahl since he woke up. He doesn't count the people in the street below, in the bustling city around them. Apparently it's part of David's treatment that he must have strictly limited social contact. David doesn't mind, really; it's not like he's eager to explain himself to anyone, to have them gawp at him. And it's unsettling not being able to hear people's thoughts. He's getting used to it with Amahl, but-- It's unnatural. He had a hard enough time trusting anyone even when he knew what they were thinking.

Usually they weren't thinking anything nice anyway.

So just being with Amahl is fine. David shouldn't ever need anyone outside of his system, but-- David doesn't have a system anymore, he doesn't have Divad and Dvd. He has Amahl. Amahl is being Divad and Dvd for David, taking care of him, protecting him, keeping him safe, helping him heal. So it's okay, it's okay that David doesn't have a system, that he only has Amahl. It's okay.

He takes a deep breath and lets it out. He lifts the cover for his plate.

As with the coffee, David eats what Amahl eats, but á la David. Concessions are made for his palate, though Amahl promises those won't be necessary once David's taste buds adapt to the stronger flavors Amahl prefers. David will cease to eat as though he's at the kiddie table, as Amahl says, though fondly enough that the words don't sting. All that sugar isn't good for their body anyway, he knows that. He just never had any reason to care.

So for breakfast, they have shakshuka: eggs in a spicy sauce with even spicier sausage. But shakshuka á la David is mild, and he gets a side of beghrir: a sort of waffley pancake that David can cover with as much syrup as he wants.

The food isn't made by Amahl's assistant. Amahl's own mother makes it, apparently, delighted to make her own contribution to Amahl's work. But the assistant picks their meals up and brings them over every morning. It's nice, having homemade food. They didn't eat very well in college. Not that it mattered to David because Divad was the one who ate for them. Eating the same things as Amahl feels like when he and Divad and Dvd used to all eat together, sharing their body together. He misses sharing with them. But it's been years since they shared like that. It's been--

It's been a long time since he did anything but hang back and watch. And now he has to do all these things again. He has to eat meals and care for their body and listen to Amahl. He has to be tested.

After breakfast the tests begin. There are all kinds of them. Scans are taken of their body and their brain. Samples are taken: of blood, urine, other things; even, for one very painful test, the fluid from their spine. Amahl said they only have to do that one once a week, which is a relief. There's physical tests to measure David's recovery and physical therapy to strengthen their muscles after their long coma. But most of the day is mental tests. Question after question, logic and memory and history and language and-- And David can't cheat, he can't listen for the right answers. It's humiliating how little he truly knows. Amahl needs to know everything about their mind's current state before the treatment truly begins, but it's torturous despite Amahl's kindness and understanding. It feels like a punishment for every time that they cheated instead of learning on their own. It feels like a punishment for giving up and letting Divad be in charge and learning everything for them for years. He feels like a failure.

So of course David breaks down. Of course Amahl has to bring all their work to a halt so he can comfort David again. Not just after the nightmares, but two or three times a day, because it's all too much but he can't even admit why. He can't tell Amahl that he had a system. He can't tell Amahl he had powers. Amahl is only doing all this because of the monster he found in their head. If Amahl knows the rest--

David doesn't deserve any of this. He doesn't deserve kindness and homemade food and wound massages. He doesn't deserve treatment. He doesn't deserve--

"David," Amahl says, concerned. "You're tired. Come, let's lie down."

David lies down. He does what Amahl says. It's a lot like doing what Divad and Dvd said. He doesn't know how to make decisions anyway. When he tries he ruins everything.

He goes to sleep and wakes up screaming. But before he can hurt their body, before his half-asleep mind can do any damage, Amahl is there, holding him.

§

David's quiet over dinner, worn out as usual by Amahl's tests and his own incessant emotional breakdowns. The lemony roasted chicken is strongly spiced, but it's not hot-spicy and David is getting used to the flavors like Amahl said he would. And it's not so bad with plenty of couscous. So there's no need for an á la David version. He's simply eating what Amahl eats, the way he should. At least he can do that right.

"You're doing very well, David," Amahl says, taking his hand and holding it. "I know all of this is a challenge for you. The monster hurt you very badly, damaged your brain, your mind. You must not judge yourself harshly for what you could not control."

David looks away, ashamed. He's a failure, a liar. All he can do is wonder when Amahl's going to realize that he's useless and throw him out. Maybe throw him in jail because he's a fraud, and them make him pay back however much all of this has already cost. The surgery, months of treatment, a whole floor of a hospital-- Dad and Amy will never be able to pay all that back. They'll hate him even more when they realize the wrong David put them in debt for the rest of their lives.

"You're very important to me, David," Amahl says. "You are my key, remember? You must stay alive for me."

"I am," David says, though he's miserable about it. He's miserable because Amahl thinks David is stupid because he has brain damage, but David is stupid because he's stupid. There's nothing wrong with him, nothing that needs to be cured. He isn't suicidal because he's sick. He just doesn't deserve to live.

Dvd and Divad aren't coming back. He tried to wait for them, he tried, but they aren't coming back. That's happening and he has to accept it. That's reality and he has to accept it.

And if they're never coming back-- He knows what he has to do.

But he never has any time alone. Amahl is always right there and David never has a chance to-- If he just had some time alone, he could do the job right this time. It's a hospital, there should be-- Plenty of options, ways he could-- Do it quick enough, do enough damage that Amahl won't be able to save him like he did before. He's been looking but there's nothing. The razor in the bathroom couldn't kill a mouse. The window won't open and it's too thick to break. There's no poison he can swallow. Everything else-- It would take too long, or it would be too easy to save him. And he can't-- He can't risk failing again. He needs to do it right, he needs to do something right.

He can't do this anymore. All these tests and-- All this existing. All this being alive, being-- It's not for him. It would be okay for Divad and Dvd but not David. David isn't supposed to be in charge. David isn't supposed to heal. But Amahl wants him to heal, he needs him to heal. But only because he thinks David is what he needs. David isn't what he needs, he isn't what anyone needs. Amahl has to know that. He has to know, David keeps waiting for him to look at a scan or a test result and know, but-- Amahl just keeps going, like he can't see the truth staring him in the face, like he can't see that David is just-- Nothing, he's nothing, so why can't he be nothing?

"Please, talk to me, David," Amahl asks, sadly. "I can see you're in great pain. You promised to open your mind to me. How can I make you whole if you keep me out? Let me in, David, please."

David has talked all day. He's cried in Amahl's arms. He's eaten Amahl's food. He's answered Amahl's questions. He's done everything Amahl asked. But he can't do anything more than that. He can't.

Maybe not saying anything will be enough. If he can't be Amahl's key, if he can't-- Open his mind, then-- Maybe Amahl will let him die.

Amahl sighs, frustrated. He rubs his jaw like he's trying to solve a very difficult puzzle. And then he has an idea.

"David, my dear, have I ever told you about my wife?"

David blinks at him. He had no idea Amahl was married. Usually that's the kind of detail he overhears so he doesn't need to ask. Now he can't overhear. But-- Of course he wouldn't need to ask because Amahl wears a wedding ring. He's always worn a wedding ring. David just wasn't paying attention. Dvd would be disappointed in him, if Dvd wasn't gone.

"She's a therapist," Amahl continues. "A very special therapist. She treats patients who suffered terrible trauma, who find it too painful to speak."

That's odd enough that David has to ask. "Her patients don't talk?"

"They do with her help," Amahl says. "I think she would be able to help you."

David seriously doubts that. Trusting Amahl is hard enough, and he got the monster out. David shakes his head, refusing. "I haven't had good luck with therapists."

"They all believed you were schizophrenic," Amahl points out. "She would not be the same. Would you believe-- With her, you wouldn't need to say a single word for her to understand you?"

David gives Amahl an extremely skeptical look.

Amahl laughs. "Ah, there is still a spark," he says, and gives David a friendly slap on the back, then rubs where he slapped, soothing. "She has dedicated her life to helping people, just as I have." Then he leans in. "But I will tell you a secret. Because I trust you, David. You are good at keeping secrets, yes?"

David just gives him a curious look.

"Yes," Amahl says, answering his own question. "My wife is-- Special. She has an ability. Tell me, David, have you ever heard of-- Mutants?"

David goes absolutely still.

"No," he lies.

"Mutants are people just like you and me," Amahl explains. "But there is something very different about them. They have strange mutations in their bodies that give them-- Wondrous powers. Every mutant is unique, but there are-- Patterns. The ability to heal from any wound. The ability to create fire through sheer force of will. The ability to-- Hear the thoughts of others."

David doesn't even dare to breathe.

"Such mutations are rare," Amahl continues. "So they are poorly understood. And people fear what they do not understand. But my wife-- Her dream is to one day make the world understand, for the whole world to accept and welcome mutants like herself. But that is a difficult dream to achieve. So she uses her abilities to help those that need the most help. People like you, whose pain chokes them like a noose." He gives David a curious look. "Are you afraid to meet her?"

"No," David says, hurriedly. "No, I'm just-- It sounds--"

"Strange?" Amahl offers. "Unlikely? Perhaps-- Disturbing?"

The opposite.

If Amahl's wife is a mutant like him, if she can read minds like him-- David isn't sure if he wants that more than anything, or if he's terrified of what she'll discover. He's not supposed to let anyone know they're a mutant. They couldn't even tell Amy. But-- They never met another mutant. Surely it's safe to tell another mutant. Surely-- If Amahl is married to a mutant, if she trusts him-- Surely it's safe for Amahl to know, too.

Maybe she can help him figure out what happened to his powers.

David wants to tell Amahl things. Amahl has been so kind to him, taken care of him, tried to help him. David wants to open up to him. But he's right, the pain is-- It's a noose, choking him. He can't get past it on his own.

"I'd like to meet her," David says, because he can say that much. "Um, what's her name?"

"Doctor Farouk," Amahl says, then laughs. "But that is confusing. Doctor Melanie Farouk. You can call her Melanie, like you call me Amahl."

"Melanie," David echoes. Another mutant like him. Another mind reader like him. He's not alone. He's actually not alone. Not that he's been alone with Amahl, but-- Amahl is a doctor. A compassionate, caring doctor, but-- He's a doctor. Melanie is a mutant like him. Maybe she can even help him find Divad and Dvd.

Melanie. He wants to meet her. He wants. For days he's done everything Amahl wanted, but-- It wasn't what he wanted. He wants to help Amahl, to help him with his dream, but he needs more than that. Meeting Melanie-- That's something he can stay alive for.

Chapter 77: Interlude II: She considers herself a surgeon of the mind. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

Melanie presses the button for the top floor and waits as the hospital elevator doors slide shut. The moment they seal, the busy sounds of the hospital lobby cut off, sealing her in silence. But there’s no silence in her mind.

Hospitals have never been an easy place for her to be. So many minds in so much pain, so much life and death. If she lets herself, she can hear it all at once: a cacophony of grief and sorrow, of joy and relief, sullen resentment and cautious hope. There've been times in her life when she’s almost lost herself, unable to her hear own thoughts inside a head filled with other people’s thoughts. But she’s long since learned to protect her mind, to help herself so she can give others the help they need. As the elevator climbs, she dials down all the other voices, tuning them out until she can only hear one voice: her own.

She breathes out. The elevator stops and the doors open. She walks through the short hallway and swipes her badge to enter the private lab that takes up the whole floor.

It’s early, but Amahl is already awake and so is his patient. She hears their thoughts before she hears their voices. She hears Amahl’s relief at her arrival as he hears her footsteps and the wheels of her suitcase. She hears his love for her, old and familiar. She hears David.

She’s deeply familiar with David Haller, having read his case history more than once. He’s been Amahl’s obsession for months, this boy with a monster in his head, and she's intrigued herself. Such a tragic case: a troubled life made many times worse by misdiagnosis. Melanie knows all too well how destructive such criminal malpractice can be, and how commonplace it is. Without the ability to hear the thoughts of their patients, even the best diagnostician can be left fumbling in the dark, hoping to find part of the story.

Melanie's gift eliminates that ambiguity. Just as Amahl is a surgeon of the body, she considers herself a surgeon of the mind. She's treated patients all over the world, but she could do so much more if she wasn't forced to hide her truth behind claims of 'deep empathy' and 'microexpressions.' She could do so much more if the world understood and accepted mutants.

She opens the door to the main room, and Amahl rises from the table to greet her.

"Melanie," he says, his warm thoughts like a caress even before their bodies touch. She hasn't seen him in over a week, since he devoted himself fully to David. Even though it's usually her work that takes her away from him, she hates to be without him, and she knows he hates to be without her, so they always deeply treasure the time they have together.

Working together to help David-- Melanie would have wanted to help David anyway, but the opportunity to stay with her husband, to be with him every waking and sleeping moment for however long this takes-- She couldn't pack her suitcase fast enough.

They kiss, then rest their foreheads together, soaking in each other's presence. The certainty of his love for her feeds her love for him, and their minds soak in that love like it's a hot bath, soothing, blissful.

But they can't stay in that bath forever. They have work to do.

Melanie breaks away and looks at David. He's still sitting, eyes cast down while he fidgets with nervous uncertainty. The remains of their breakfast are on the table. Melanie had her usual quick breakfast already, but she's looking forward to Amahl's mother's home cooking. Travelling the world gave her a broad palette, but those spices taste like home.

She sits down next to David. "Hello," she greets. "My name is Doctor Melanie Farouk. But you can call me Melanie."

David finally looks at her. His eyes are expressive, haunted, and their vulnerability makes him look even younger than he is. She feels anxious hope coming off him in powerful waves. He's locked down, verbally and mentally; he's in so much terrible pain.

"Um," David starts. "I'm David."

"It's good to meet you, David," Melanie says, gently drawing him out. "I'm hoping we can do great things together." She holds out her hand, and he looks at it before cautiously reaching out to take it. She notes the protective wrap around his forearms but doesn't let her eyes linger.

Amahl's had his hands full keeping David alive while he established David's physical and mental baselines. She can see why he brought her in. He probably should have brought her in sooner, but-- She knows how stubborn and proud he can be. He wanted to be able to fix David all on his own. But just looking at David, she knows his suffering is too great for one person to fix, even someone as brilliant as her husband.

"I know Amahl has told you about my gift," Melanie continues. "That gift is going to--"

She's interrupted by a burst of urgent thoughts. 'Like me? Is she really like me? It's not safe, Mom and Dad said it's not safe but if she's like me maybe it's safe, maybe I don't have to be alone anymore, I can be-- She's a mutant, another mutant, like me, she's like me--'

"Amahl?" Melanie calls.

"Yes, my dear?" Amahl says, returning to his chair. "What's wrong?"

"Is there something about David you forgot to tell me?" Melanie asks, wryly.

But Amahl is genuinely confused. "I sent you all his results." 'Did I miss something?' he thinks.

David looks between them, also confused. 'Did I do something wrong?' he wonders, and immediately starts blaming himself.

"You didn't do anything wrong, David," Melanie assures him.

David startles, wide-eyed. 'You heard that?' he thinks.

"I did," Melanie says. 'And can you hear this?' she thinks, assuming that if David is another mind reader, he'll hear it.

But David doesn't respond.

'Can you hear this?' she tries again, sending this time.

David startles again. He stares at her in stunned amazement.

"I'm going to count to ten," Melanie tells him. "Tell me which numbers you hear."

Melanie counts off in her thoughts, only sending him the even numbers. If he's a telepath, he should be able to hear all the numbers. If not--

"Um, I heard-- two, four, six, eight, ten," David says. "You're a mutant, you're really--" He tears up, overwhelmed. 'I'm not alone. I'm not alone.'

In his distress, he automatically turns to Amahl, and Amahl takes him in his arms, holds him, soothes him. Their movements are so natural. David's only been awake for a week, but they're already like-- Father and son.

Melanie and Amahl never had children of their own. They were always too busy saving the world to start a family. But seeing David in Amahl's arms, the trust and comfort shared by her husband and this wounded young man-- It rouses her maternal instincts. And if David is a mutant--

It's clear that David needs Amahl's comfort for them to be able to continue. Melanie takes the moment to reach into her suitcase and pull out her tablet. She flips through the test results Amahl sent. A full physiological, neurological, psychological, and genetic profile. Everything there is to know about how David Haller works, everything that can be scanned or tested or analyzed. David Haller is an open book to Amahl, and Amahl has studied him intensely.

She finds the genetic profile. She reads it, then reads it again.

No mutant genetic markers found. David's not a mutant, not by any criteria they can identify. It's one of their secrets that Amahl has amassed a catalog of genetic markers that indicate mutant abilities, even latent ones. The information is deeply sensitive, and in the wrong hands it could be used to identify and capture mutants across the world. Amahl uses it to check if any of his patients are mutants, and if they are he gets them to Melanie so she can help them.

'David thinks he's a mutant,' Melanie sends to Amahl. 'But he isn't one, not according to your tests.'

'We'll run them again,' Amahl thinks, trusting that she'll hear him.

§

When David calms, Amahl brings him to the sofa and wraps him in a blanket. He sits with David and keeps a comforting arm around him, holds his hand. David is terribly fragile; Melanie knows from the information Amahl sent her that he's prone to breakdowns, that his condition can make progress slow. Like most trauma survivors, what helps David is to feel safe and cared for, but those things can be very difficult for survivors to accept. It's a testament to Amahl's dedication and compassion that David feels safe with him, trusts him as much as he does.

"You're safe with us, David," Amahl soothes. "You're our favorite patient. Nothing you say or do will ever change that."

David nods, but-- Even with all of Amahl's assurances, verbal and physical, David's still deeply anxious.

"I already heard what you thought," Melanie says, as gently as she can. "But I think it would help you if you said it aloud."

David looks at her, his eyes full of hope and fear and so much feeling. He closes them, preparing himself, then looks at her, working up all his courage. 'She's a mutant. She's a mutant. She's a mutant.' "I'm a mutant," he says, in a rush.

"That's wonderful," Amahl rewards, rubbing David's back, squeezing his hand. He smiles, and David gives a nervous smile back.

David looks at Melanie. "I've never-- I never told that to anyone before, ever." The words are coming out easier now. "It wasn't safe. It's never been safe, never--" He's nearly overcome again, but he holds Amahl's hand tightly, drawing strength.

"How long have you known?" Melanie asks.

"Forever," David says. "My parents-- I was really young when I started using my powers. I could--" He hesitates again.

"Hear thoughts?" Melanie prompts.

David nods. "Not just that. I could do-- Almost anything." He musters a proud smile, but it quickly fades. "But-- It wasn't safe. Using my powers. If anyone found out--" He's upset again, but it's an old pain. "I couldn't even tell my sister."

"Your sister isn't a mutant?" Melanie asks. "Your parents? No one else in your family?"

David shakes his head. "Just me." 'Us,' he thinks. 'No, don't-- Don't think about-- She's a mutant, but--'

"Us?" Melanie prompts.

David looks away, guilty, afraid. He's trying very hard not to think.

"David, are you protecting someone?" Melanie asks. David genuinely believes Melanie is the first other mutant he's met. David's never had any close friends, not as far as his personal history revealed. So who is he protecting?

David's still trying not to think. But Melanie knows that won't work. The harder someone tries to consciously avoid a thought, the more the thought asserts itself. And so Melanie simply waits and listens.

'Maybe she can help,' David thinks, struggling. 'If she can find them-- If she can get them back-- I won't have to be in charge anymore-- They could help-- Divad-- Amahl would-- It would be better if I was-- I already hurt our body-- Whatever Amahl needs me for-- I'm just going to ruin it. Divad wouldn't ruin it.'

Our body. Melanie's heard that kind of thinking before, in DID patients who are co-conscious. But she doesn't hear any other minds in David's head.

David doesn't just think he's a mutant. He thinks he has DID. But neither is true, not as far as they can tell. They're going to need to run more tests, but-- Melanie's very concerned. They shouldn't lie to David, but telling him the truth about such enormous delusions-- They need to tread very carefully.

"Who is Divad, David?" Melanie asks.

David looks caught, but visibly surrenders. "He's-- I'm--" He tries, but this is clearly even more difficult than admitting he's a mutant. "The monster--" The pain in his eyes-- Melanie's only seen pain like that in the worst cases, in survivors of unspeakable abuse.

"What did the monster do, David?" Melanie asks, gently. Amahl made some guesses, based on David's history. But they're just guesses. Only David can tell them the truth, or the truth as he knows it.

David shakes his head, unable to speak of whatever terrible things he suffered. They're so bad he can't even bear to think about them. But he answers as best he can.

"Broke me," David admits, his voice and body trembling. "Over and-- Over and-- I couldn't-- Survive. On my own. So I made them. Divad and-- Dvd. To protect me. They're-- Stress responses. That's what the books said. To protect me. But--" He falters, in great distress. "They're gone. I don't know how. They're not supposed to-- And I don't know if-- If the monster, or--" He looks desperately at Melanie. "Please, you have to-- You have to help me find them. I keep looking for them but I can't find them."

"Okay," Melanie soothes. "How about we run some more tests, see what we can find?"

David sniffs. "Okay."

§

They start the tests. David tenses but complies as Amahl takes his blood. While they let the gene sequencer do its work, they set David up for the MRI. His stripey socked feet shift restlessly, but that's the only part of him that can move. He's strapped firmly to the MRI bed so he won't hurt himself or affect the scans. She can hear how anxious he is about the tests.

"David, we'll be just on the other side of the glass," Melanie tells him.

"That's right," Amahl adds. He rests a reassuring hand on David's leg. "If you need anything at all, all you have to do is ask. But don't speak aloud. Just listen and speak with your mind. Melanie will be able to hear everything you think."

"Okay," David says, and then closes his mouth firmly. 'Okay,' he thinks.

"Very good," Amahl says, rewarding David with a squeeze and a rub. "When we're done, we'll have a little treat. Makrout. Have you ever had them, David? They're fruit cookies. Usually they're filled with dates, but my mother made makrout á la David. They're filled with cherries. Your favorite, yes?"

'Cherries,' David thinks. 'Mom used to make cherry pies. Dad would bring back a big bag of cherries from the fruit stand between work and home, and we'd help her cut the cherries in half and remove the pits. We'd sneak so many cherries-- If Dad didn't bring such a huge bag, there wouldn't be enough left for the pie.'

It's the calmest, most coherent thought David's had since her arrival. Melanie's startled by it, and starts to wonder if keeping David away from his family is a good idea after all. But then David flinches and his thoughts change.

'Mom-- We couldn't save her. And Dad and Amy-- We know what they think about us, about me. If Melanie can't get Divad back-- I'm the wrong David. I'm wrong I'm wrong I'm wrong--'

"Shh," Amahl hushes. He pulls a kerchief from his pocket and dries David's eyes, then rests his hand over David's heart. "You're safe with Amahl, remember? You're always safe with Amahl."

"I'm safe with Amahl," David echoes, aloud. Then he tries again. 'I'm safe with Amahl.'

"Very good," Amahl says again. "If you're scared, just remember: I'm right here. Right here." He keeps a steady press against David's chest until David calms. But when he takes his hand away, David lets out a soft protest.

Amahl considers him. "Hmm. David-- If you promise to keep very still in the machine--" He frees David's right hand from the straps and brings it to rest over his heart, just where Amahl had pressed. "Just keep thinking those words. You're safe with Amahl."

'I'm safe with Amahl,' David chants to himself. 'I'm safe with Amahl, I'm safe with Amahl.'

"Perfect, my dear," Amahl says, pleased. "Absolutely perfect."

§

It's not easy to prove that someone doesn't have dissociative identity disorder. Usually Melanie is asked to do the opposite: to confirm that the bouts of dissociative amnesia and other confusions a patient is suffering are indeed caused by the presence of multiple minds in one body. She can speak to each mind individually, help them understand what's happening to them, coax their system towards healthy multiplicity.

She's not the only way to confirm the presence of multiple minds. Scans can be done to show unique brainwaves for each identity. But the scan of David's mind only shows David, just like all the scans before it.

When the tests are over, they bundle David up again and sit him down with a paper plateful of makrout á la David. It's not safe to leave him alone for long, but the cookies should be enough of a sedating distraction for Amahl and Melanie to speak in private.

'I've never seen a case like this before,' Melanie admits to Amahl. Telepathy is safer than speaking in such a close environment, even from a room over. 'Most people don't even know mutants exist, much less believe they're mutants when they're not. And David does seem to have had experience with genuine telepathy. He was surprised that he could hear me in his thoughts, but he was relieved, not disturbed.'

'He believes he is a mutant, but he’s human,' Amahl thinks. 'He believes he has multiple identities, but he has only one.' He gives her a wry look. 'Quite an unusual patient.'

Melanie huffs. 'So what happened to him? What gave him these delusions?'

'It must have been the monster,' Amahl thinks. 'He claims to have always had powers. But we know he began to manifest schizophrenia symptoms at a very early age.'

'He doesn't have schizophrenia,' Melanie corrects.

'No,' Amahl says, amused. 'But if the infection was the cause of his apparent schizophrenia--'

Melanie realizes with dawning horror. 'We never figured out what the monster was. What if it was a mutant? A mutant with mental powers. And it used its powers to make David believe he has powers himself.'

Amahl considers this. 'I don't see why not. We've seen cases of mutants separating their minds from their bodies. The monster could have been-- A parasitic mind that burrowed into David's brain when he was a boy, perhaps even a baby.'

'We already know it made him see things, hear things,' Melanie thinks. 'What if these alters, Divad and Dvd, were more hallucinations? Or-- Masks the monster wore to manipulate David, to convince him to give up control? The Divad identity seems to have taken control of David's body in the past.'

'A strong hypothesis,' Amahl agrees. 'But I'm concerned. David is very fragile. If we tell him all of this-- He might never recover.'

'I've never had a patient who didn't want me to tell him he's normal,' Melanie thinks, wryly. 'Aside from the trauma he's endured, David is-- Normal.'

'Which makes him the perfect research subject,' Amahl admits.

'Maybe that can help us,' Melanie thinks. 'If he's been dependent on these false identities-- I'm sure you couldn't miss that he's transferred some of that dependence onto you.'

'I assumed the cause was his estrangement from his family. Should we discourage it?'

'Absolutely not,' Melanie insists. 'You might be the only thing keeping him alive. It's not the normal way to handle these things, but-- David's situation is one of a kind. If we encourage that transference, help him feel like he belongs, help him to-- Accept his singularity-- We can make him strong enough to reject the monster's delusions.'

'A delicate endeavor,' Amahl says. 'Will you help me?'

'Of course, my darling,' Melanie says, and takes his hands. 'We help those who need the most help. And I can't think of anyone who needs help more than David Haller.'

Chapter 78: Interlude II: They were part of the monster, too. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

A delicate endeavor. That's an understatement if Melanie ever heard one.

Over the years, she's helped a lot of people in pain. And no matter what the sickness or disease or condition, two things have always been essential to their recovery: knowledge and compassion. Without the truth, there can be no goal for recovery. Without compassion, without love and support, that goal can't be achieved.

There is no question that David's recovery will be a long and difficult one. Amahl's treatment will, with luck, do much to make it shorter and easier. But they can't help him heal if he's still putting all his energy into hurting himself. Amahl has been keeping him alive, but they need to help David choose to live.

Amahl sits beside David on the sofa and puts a comforting hand on his back, offers him a reassuring smile. David's nervous, but he manages a smile back. They're lucky that David has bonded with Amahl so well. That compassionate bond is exactly what David needs, and with luck-- It might be the very foundation of his recovery. It's unorthodox to say the least. It's usually essential for the health of doctor and patient to keep some distance to their relationship. But Melanie knows all too well that orthodoxy is the enemy of progress, and everything about this situation tells her that their bond is essential.

If David had an existing support network, they could use it, try to strengthen it so his friends and family could be the foundation of David's recovery. But he's been intensely self-isolating all his life, and both David's file and his thoughts indicate that his family has rejected him. If it wasn't for Amahl, David would be completely alone.

And Amahl's experiment-- David could be his key, he truly could. She knows Amahl sees great potential in him. If they can get David to truly commit, to dedicate himself to the work-- It might be a blessing in disguise that he's alone, that he has no ties or obligations that might distract him. With luck, he won't just be Amahl's patient, he'll be his partner. He'll embrace Amahl's dream and make it his own.

It's a good dream, so close to her own. The dream of a better world, a world where no one is shamed or punished for their difference. A dream of acceptance. Melanie's always focused on the individual, on making people better one at a time, but Amahl prefers the big picture. He wants to help the whole world get better together, in a-- Positive feedback loop. But he needs someone to be the nucleation point, the example to show everyone what's possible, or as Amahl likes to say, in his grandiose fashion: the model of their salvation.

But none of that will happen if they can't get David to take his first steps on the path to healing. Those first steps are always the hardest.

"David," Melanie begins, in a soothing tone, "there are two big things we need to talk about. We'll talk about your powers. But first we need to talk about Divad and Dvd, your alters."

"Did you find them?" David asks, desperate with hope.

"I'll show you what we found," Melanie says. "But first-- How about you tell me about them? What are they like? Is it just the two of them? No other alters? Even temporary ones?"

"It's always been just us," David says, and his eyes lose focus as he thinks about them. 'They wouldn't leave. We've been through so much, through everything-- They wouldn't leave me.'

"You're very close?" Melanie prompts, drawing him back. "You speak to each other?"

"We do everything together," David says, then falters. "Or we did, before--" 'Before I ruined it.'

"Let's start from the beginning," Melanie says. "When did you first become aware of them?"

"I was pretty young," David says. "I don't know, maybe-- Four or five? Sometimes it feels like-- They've always been here. But I remember being alone in our body, when it was-- My body."

"But then they appeared?"

David nods. "Something happened. I can't-- Sometimes-- I forget things. Divad and Dvd remember for me. If they were here, they could tell you." 'But they're not. Where are they?'

"What are they like?" Melanie asks. "Are they older, younger? Have you ever seen them?"

"They look like me," David says. "I couldn't see them at first. I can't go into their bedroom. That's where they can see each other. But we learned how to— Mentally project. So I could see them."

"And when you're not projecting?"

"I hear them," David says. "We talk to each other. But most of the time-- When we're sharing our body-- I feel them with me. It's like-- Being held all the time." It's obviously a good memory, from the way it calms him.

"And their bedroom?" Melanie asks. "What's that?"

David nods. "That's where they go to escape the monster. I can't go there, but-- They can. When it's-- When things are really bad. They don't want to, but--"

An inner world, Melanie realizes. Whoever the mutant was that parasitized David, it knew DID well. "You can't go there with them?"

"The monster--" David starts. He pulls his arms close and looks away. "It won't let me."

"So what do you do?" Melanie asks, softer. "When things are really bad?"

"I go away," David says, still refusing to meet her eyes. "I just-- Go away until it's over. Or I forget. I don't remember forgetting, but-- Divad and Dvd tell me I do."

"You trust them a great deal."

"Of course," David says, finally looking up again. "They keep me safe. They wouldn't lie to me. Sometimes they don't tell me things, but-- They have to, to protect me. If I knew what they knew-- It would hurt me."

"Because of the monster," Melanie says. "What did the monster do to you, David?"

David goes very tense. He shakes his head and pulls his arms closer. He's in such distress that he can't even think about whatever traumas he endured.

"Okay," Melanie says. "We don't have to talk about that now. Tell me more about your alters."

David's tension eases. "They keep me safe," he says again, like a protective mantra. "They protect me."

"How do they protect you?"

"Dvd protects our body and Divad protects our mind. Or-- That's what they're supposed to do."

"They don't anymore?" Melanie asks.

"It's my fault," David says, ashamed. "I'm supposed to stay in charge. The monster-- But--" He takes a shaky breath. "I wasn't strong enough. I was-- Making things worse. I do that a lot, so-- It's better if-- I don't. If I just-- Divad-- He knows what to do. And Dvd-- One of them has to take care of me and--" He wipes his eyes. "They argue all the time. They try to hide it, but--" 'Dvd should have stopped trying to save me and stayed with Divad. Everything is my fault. I made them, I did this to them. It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault--' He sobs with distress and his fingers press the wraps around his arms, like he's fighting the urge to rip them off.

"Shh, it's all right," Amahl soothes. "You're safe with Amahl, remember?" He takes one of David's hands and brings it to rest over his heart. "You're safe with Amahl."

Tears streak down David's face, but he struggles for calm. 'I'm safe with Amahl,' he thinks. 'I'm safe with Amahl.'

Amahl holds him as he settles. Melanie's heart breaks for David. His trauma is severe, some of the worst she's ever seen. But-- Before his seizure and the coma, he was in college and an excellent student. There's no way that David did all that when he's been tortured since he was a young child.

"David," Melanie says, when David is calm enough to continue. "You've thought about-- Divad being in charge. What does that mean?"

"Um." David wipes his eyes. "I step back. So I'm not-- In control."

"And Divad takes control?"

"And Dvd," David says. "They used to cover for me a lot. But-- Dvd has to stay with me, so-- Divad has to-- But he knows what's best for us. He's-- He's better at-- Being David. I'm--" 'Nothing. I'm nothing.'

"So he was in charge for college?"

'College,' David thinks, like he'd forgotten. "All our classes-- Divad's missing them. I have to-- He has to--" He looks around the room, as if searching for an answer.

"It's all right, David," Amahl soothes. "You're sick, in treatment. Everything's been taken care of. You don't have to worry about college."

David slumps with relief. "That's-- Divad-- When he gets back--"

"Of course," Amahl says. "But what's important now is your treatment."

David nods, but-- He still looks worried.

"David," Melanie begins, carefully. "Are you worried about Divad missing class?"

"Of course," David says, defensively. "I mean-- We have to-- College is important."

"Why is college important?"

"So Divad can stop the monster," David says. "He has to learn so he can-- Stop the monster."

"The monster is gone, my dear," Amahl reminds him. "I removed it myself. I destroyed it. I showed you the scans. It is gone."

'Show him,' Amahl thinks.

Melanie picks up the folder that's beside her on the loveseat. She takes out the scans of before and after David's surgery and puts them on the coffee table. David picks them up with trembling hands.

"See?" Amahl soothes. "The infection is gone. Your mind is cleansed. You are only yourself now."

"Only-- Myself?" David echoes, confused.

"Let me tell you a story," Melanie tells David. "Once upon a time there was a little boy, a very special little boy. But he was cursed. When he was just a baby, something infected him. That infection-- The little boy knew it only as a monster. But it wasn't a monster, it was a mutant."

"A mutant?" David stares. 'Like me?'

Melanie pulls out another piece of paper. "This is the result of your genetic testing. We ran the test again just to be certain, but--"

David puts down the scans and picks up the genetic test results. He reads them, reads them again, then looks at Melanie and Amahl in confusion. "I don't understand."

"You're not a mutant, David," Melanie says, gently. "You're human, just like Amahl."

"But my powers," David protests. "I have powers. I can read minds, I can--" He makes a gesture with his hand, but nothing happens.

"You did experience mutant abilities," Melanie explains. "But they weren't yours. They were the monster's. It tricked you. It deluded you into thinking its powers were your own."

"Why?" David asks, bewildered.

"It's difficult to say," Melanie admits. "But that's the only explanation for how you could experience genuine mutant abilities without having the mutations those abilities require."

"I'm sorry, David," Amahl soothes. "I know your powers were important to you. But they were not yours. They were the monster's."

David shakes his head. "No, this is-- It's impossible. They're my powers."

"Then why did they disappear when the monster was removed?" Melanie counters.

"Maybe-- The surgery?" David tries. "Whatever you took out-- Maybe you took out my powers."

Amahl shakes his head. "Mutant powers cannot be removed. For mutants like Melanie, such powers are written into their genetic code. Every cell in their bodies contains their mutation. Your cells do not contain any such mutations."

Melanie leans forward and takes David's hands. "I'm sure many of the things you saw and heard were real. The powers you experienced were real. But they're not your powers. They never were."

David looks at her desperately. "But-- But-- Dvd and Divad, they have powers, too."

Melanie hesitates. She wishes there was a gentler way to tell David the truth, but-- They've come this far, they have to go the rest of the way.

"Just like mutant powers can't be removed," Melanie begins, "DID identities can't be removed. But Divad and Dvd disappeared with the monster, just like the mutant powers you experienced. Which means-- They were part of the monster, too."

David struggles to process this, but it's too much. All he can do is deny it. "No. No, that's-- You're lying, you're-- " He pulls back from them, stumbles away, retreating. "This is a trick, another one of his tricks." 'It's not real, it's not real, it can't be real.'

Amahl and Melanie stand up and follow after David, but keep their motions slow so they don't set him off.

"We're not lying, David," Amahl soothes. "We know how hard your life has been. We know the monster did terrible things to you. The life that you lived-- To believe that you had powers and alters for all those years-- But the truth is-- You don't."

"They're gone, David," Melanie soothes. "Your body and mind are your own. The monster, his powers, the alters he tricked you with-- They're all gone."

David bolts past them, yanks at the door, but-- The door is locked. David struggles to force it open, but he can't. He pounds on the glass but it's too thick to break. When Melanie and Amahl get too close, he stumbles away again, desperate for some way to escape. He looks around the room, wild-eyed. But Amahl suicide-proofed the room days ago. There's nothing he could use to break free, to hurt them or himself. He tries to lift the table but it's bolted down. He lifts a chair, but drops it as he cries out in pain and grabs at his still-healing arms.

"Please, David," Amahl begs. "You're hurting yourself."

David isn't listening. He rushes into the bathroom and slams the door shut. Amahl and Melanie chase after him, but as they reach the door there's a horrible crashing sound.

"The mirror," Amahl breathes, alarmed.

They get the door open just as David picks up a large shard of broken mirror. "Stay back," he warns, holding it out.

Melanie didn't want it to come to this. She hoped that David would accept the truth, or at least begin to. But his mind is a frantic whine of panic, the blind desperation of a cornered animal. They can't talk to him when he's in this state, and they can't let him hurt himself any more than he already has.

Melanie raises her hand and David's hand goes slack. The shard falls from his hand and shatters on the tile. David stares in confusion, and then realization.

"No, please," he begs, but it's too late. She's already sent a telekinetic blow to his carotid sinus, and the resulting blood pressure drop triggers a faint. David drops like a stone, but Amahl catches him before he can hit the mirror-strewn floor.

"We have to secure him before he wakes up," Melanie says. She helps Amahl carry David back into the room.

"On the bed," Amahl says. "There are restraints."

They lay David down and secure the restraints. His hand is bleeding, cut from punching the mirror and then picking up the broken glass. Melanie raises her hand and the first aid kit flies into it.

"He'll wake up soon," Melanie warns. "He'll struggle again. We have to take care of his hand."

Amahl takes the tweezers and picks out the tiny fragments of glass, and Melanie dabs away the blood. Once the wounds are clean, Amahl glues them closed and they swaddle David's hand in gauze, binding it so he can't reopen the wounds.

They finish just as David starts to stir. He groans, hurting and confused, but once he comes back to himself, he struggles, just as she predicted.

"Let me go!" David cries, frantic again. "Please let me go, please, please. This isn't-- It's not real, it's not real, it's a trick, the monster-- It's a trick, you have to believe me! Please!" He sobs, broken, desperate. "Dvd! Dvd! Divad! Please come back! Please!"

Melanie looks to Amahl, regretful.

'Let me,' Amahl thinks. Melanie takes a step back to give him room.

"I'm sorry, my dear," Amahl tells David, resting a hand over his heart. "I'm truly sorry. I only want to keep you safe. I can't let you harm yourself again."

'They'll come back,' David thinks, desperate. 'They'll come back and they'll save me, they'll protect me. They'll save me.'

Melanie relays David's thoughts to Amahl, echoing them into his mind. They've worked this way many times before.

"I know you can't allow yourself to believe the truth now," Amahl tells David. "But feel the truth in your heart. They are gone. You are here. Amahl is here, keeping you safe."

"No," David whines, but his protest is weaker. He's tiring himself out, but--

Amahl keeps one hand over David's heart, and brings the other up to pet his hair, stroke his cheek. He brushes away the tears. "I would never hurt you," he promises. "I would never let you hurt yourself, and I would never let anyone hurt you. You are safe with Amahl."

David keens with emotional agony, but he's settling. Amahl is settling him. It was a gamble, but-- It looks like the bond that Amahl and David have formed is holding.

As David's panic eases, he breaks into wracking sobs. Amahl sighs, then undoes the upper restraints and pulls David into his arms. David struggles weakly, but Amahl holds him easily. And David is so desperate for comfort, for the only source of comfort he has left. His resistance becomes a desperate clinging as his whole body heaves with despair and grief and terror and-- So much. There's so much emotion pouring out of him, it's overwhelming. Melanie has to dial down her perception of David because his mind is simply too loud.

"There, there," Amahl soothes, as David exhausts himself into a stupor. "It's all right. Everything will be all right."

Chapter 79: Day 11: What we had should have been ours. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd wakes up to the combined sensation of purring and pinpricks against her arm. She knows that familiar combination, and she opens her eyes to see Matilda resting against her gloved arm, her hand and Matilda's head both resting on the pillow.

Syd doesn't move. She lets it happen. Touch, warmth, soothing discomfort. The sensation of another living, breathing body in contact with her own. She's had a whole year to learn to endure that sensation, to accept it instead of flinching away.

It was a difficult year.

Melanie suggested a therapy animal just a few weeks after David was taken. Syd had gone her whole life without touch before David. She tried to convince herself she could go back to that, that she could turn the need David awoke in her back off. Or if they could just find him, if they could just get him back--

She felt like a junkie herself, craving him. Craving him pressed against her, his bare body against her bare body, sheer skin-on-skin. His mouth, the texture of his lips pursed in a kiss, the press of his teeth as he smiled against her. In the white room, they could lie together for hours, soaking each other up, filling themselves until they drowned the empty ache they felt in their actual bodies.

But David was gone. There was no trace of him, no trail to follow. He was just-- Gone. And Syd needed.

So she got Matilda.

She'd never had a pet before, for obvious reasons. As a therapy cat, Matilda was already trained and largely self-sufficient, but there were responsibilities. Food and water and a litter box, the occasional trip to the vet, a scratching post so she didn't wreck the furniture, cat toys. Those were all easy. Syd didn't even have to play with Matilda if she didn't want to, because all the little kids Division 3 conscripted absolutely loved playing with and petting the fluffy, friendly cat.

But Syd didn't get Matilda for the kids. She got Matilda for her haphephobia. So one evening, Syd put out food to lure Matilda back to her room and she closed the door so Matilda had to stay. She set the thermostat down for the night. No one can tell a cat what to do, but-- Cats can't open doors. And if they're in a cool room with a warm body, they'll go to it. It's in their nature to want to be close, to share warmth, to be touched.

Syd sat on the bed and waited, and soon enough, Matilda came to her. She hopped up on the bed and sniffed around, and then--

The first time Matilda crawled into her lap, Syd wanted to scream. She didn't, but she flinched so badly she startled Matilda, who ran off before inevitably returning to her only source of warmth. She was more cautious the second time, but Syd was more prepared. She offered a cat treat as an apology, and Matilda settled back into her lap.

The first session with Matilda, Syd opened the door after a total of ten minutes. She only kept Matilda in her lap for thirty seconds before she picked the cat up and put her out in the hall as gently as she could. And then she sat down at her table and drank, and hated David for not fulfilling his responsibilities to her. How dare he choose her, how dare he pry his way into her heart and touch her and make her need him, and then leave?

He made her need him, and then he left.

She knew it wasn't rational. She knew he was taken. But his absence gnawed at her, and her need for him sat in her heart like a worm in an apple. Everything was fine on the surface, but she was being destroyed from within.

She talked about it to Melanie, a little, in the context of how it felt to need touch when David was the only one who could touch her. Syd wanted to be fine. She'd always taken care of herself. She didn't need anyone. She didn't need David. She didn't need touch.

Syd was lying to herself. Melanie tried to coax her into seeing that. She urged her to keep trying with Matilda. She taught Syd about touch starvation, skin hunger, somatosensory affectional deprivation. She tried to get Syd into a haphephobia support group, but Syd politely declined. All those people who were afraid to touch, they didn't have powers like her. Touch didn't bring physical pain that would never ever go away. It was just-- Psychological pain.

But having one kind of pain didn't mean she couldn't have the other.

So she kept trying with Matilda. She kept trying and it got easier. She stopped wanting to scream. Matilda was soft and warm and purred like a motor and petting her was-- Still like petting a hedgehog the wrong way, but--

David was still gone. Weeks, months, and David was still gone and she still needed him. So she kept trying. Everyone else started to give up hope. After so long with no sign, and David being as powerful as he is-- If he didn't come back to them, it was either because he wouldn't or because he couldn't. Because he was dead.

Syd couldn't accept that. She tried not to. But every day he wasn't there, it was harder to believe he'd ever come back. So she held Matilda more and more, practiced swapping with her, prowled the halls of Division 3 and let the child soldiers pet her. And all of that was almost enough.

She lifts her arm and pets Matilda. It's like petting a very soft, soothing hedgehog the wrong way.

"Good morning."

Syd looks up to see Amy at the foot of her cot. She looks around. Kerry and Cary are already up, but David's still asleep. Amy sits on Kerry's cot and scratches behind Matilda's ears.

"Can I borrow her?" Amy asks.

Syd nods, and Amy picks Matilda up and puts her into her lap. She pets Matilda in long, easy strokes, soaking up the sensation of the soft, warm fur under her hand. Syd feels a twang of old, familiar jealousy, but lets it go. Troublesome as it is, at least she has a body.

Syd thinks about how it felt yesterday, having Amy and Ptonomy touching her, holding her. It doesn't feel real. Maybe she dreamt it. She stares at Amy's hand, moving in steady strokes, and feels jealous not of Amy, but of Matilda.

Amy notices her watching. She susses her out. Amy's been-- Different, since they rescued her, since she got her own android. Less reactive, less caught up in her own head. She's calmer and more engaged. It was her body making her anxious the way Ptonomy's body made him angry. What does Syd's body do to her? What would she be like in the mainframe?

She'd rather not find out, but-- She can't help but wonder.

And then Amy reaches out, slowly so Syd could stop her if she wanted, and strokes Syd's arm the same way she stroked Matilda.

Syd bites back a moan. It's embarrassingly sexual. But god, it feels so good.

Amy smiles. "Good?"

Syd bites her lip, nods.

"Ptonomy said I should try giving you a massage," Amy says, continuing to casually pet Syd's arm. Every time she reaches the end of Syd's glove-- That narrow band of bare skin between her sleeve and the glove--

Forget alcohol. This is something she could get drunk on.

Amy gives her a fond smile. "I think that's something we can work up to. Would you feel comfortable taking off your glove?"

Syd hesitates. It's silly, this is just-- Amy touching her arm. There's no reason for her to feel like-- Some blushing virgin.

But she does. She's so used to having that physical barrier to protect her, and not just from an accidental swap. She knows her powers won't activate with Amy, they can't. There's no needles warning her away. It's just like the white room, like the first time David took her there and kissed her cheek and-- Touched her. Held her hand. That moment was-- So intense, so intimate, so-- She fell in love with David all over again when he touched her.

And it wasn't him. It was but-- It wasn't. Farouk was inside him, he had control of David for-- All of that. Syd flashes back to the desert, to Melanie-Farouk pouring poison in her ear, and then Syd poured that poison into David, accusing him, calling him Son of Sam--

Syd sits up, her heart in her throat, and wraps her arms around herself. Her whole body goes utterly still.

"Syd?" Amy calls, concerned.

Syd can't answer. She can't--

"Syd?" Ptonomy's here. He sits on her cot, but at a safe distance. "It's okay. Whatever it is, you're safe. Just breathe."

Syd takes a shuddering breath, then another. Her heart sinks back down into her chest. She eases her hold on herself, but doesn't drop her arms.

"Can you tell me what just happened?" Ptonomy asks, gently.

Syd looks at David, sleeping in his bed. Are his brothers still sleeping with him? The sleep inducer isn't on his head anymore. "Not here," she says.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "How about you take a moment, get dressed, make a hot drink. Then we'll talk in the garden. Okay?"

Syd nods.

§

Syd sits in the garden with a blanket around her shoulders, letting the steam from her tea fill her senses, and finally understands how David feels with all his rough mornings. Being vulnerable, letting herself feel all the things she's worked so hard not to feel-- It's awful. But it's the only way she can start to get better.

She wants to do this. She wants to-- Love other people, open up to them and trust them.

She takes a deep breath and meets Ptonomy's eyes. There's still no judgement in them, only acceptance. She can do this. She can open up. Here she is, opening up.

"Last year," she starts, because that's where she needs to start. "When David-- Came back." Not the second time they lost him, but the first. She blamed him for that, too, even though-- She remembers David as a scared little boy in the memory walk. She held him and he held her back so tightly.

That was the first time she touched him, not the white room. And that was David, it was only David.

Ptonomy's eyes are sharp with understanding. "He wasn't himself."

Syd looks down into her cup. "How much do you think-- Was him?"

"I was asking myself the same question a while ago," Ptonomy says. "Looking at Division 3's old footage of him. I wondered when David was David, and when he was Yellow or Green. Dvd or Divad."

Syd remembers that. She was half out of her mind with shock, and then she saw the footage of David, of Dvd. And she felt-- Horrified and scared and hurt and betrayed and angry and sick and-- Used.

"Farouk used me," she says. "As a-- Reward. For David. Sex." She knows Ptonomy read Melanie's notes, so she knows he knows her side of what happened that day. "To keep David distracted, to keep him-- Compliant."

"That seems very likely," Ptonomy agrees. "We still don't know David's side of that story. I started getting David to talk about that, but-- He was distracted by a breakthrough about still being himself." He gives a wry smile. "David's full of surprises."

Syd gives a dry laugh. She sips her tea. Takes a breath. She can do this.

"He was inside David," she continues. "Not just-- Watching, passive. He was-- I don't know, directing him? David felt so different. He was different. I don't know-- How much of what happened--"

"How do you feel about that?" Ptonomy asks.

It's a hell of a question. "I didn't," Syd admits. "All I cared about was getting him back, and when we did-- I don't think either of us wanted to-- Maybe if we'd had more time, but--"

"I don't think time would have helped," Ptonomy says. "Given what we know about the original timeline--"

"Yeah," Syd admits. She and David are both experts at repression. In the original timeline, that destroyed them both and they took the world out with them.

"So how do you feel about it now?" Ptonomy asks. "Is that what upset you with Amy?"

Syd nods. She tries to say more, but she can't.

"Farouk violated both of you," Ptonomy says for her. "You told David you forgave him for violating you two weeks ago. Have you forgiven him?"

"I have," Syd insists. "I was-- Doing exactly what David was doing. Refusing to let go of my pain." She meets Ptonomy's eyes. "That's what I taught him to do."

"You did," Ptonomy acknowledges. "But you were also teaching yourself that lesson. Don't hold on to your pain from this."

Syd's trying. It's just-- Too big for her to pull free.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, seeing that she's stuck. "When you think about that day, who are you mad at most? David, Farouk, or yourself?"

It's such a good question. Syd takes a sip of her tea and thinks. "I guess-- I'm mad at everyone, but-- I should have known. That David wasn't-- That something was wrong. But he-- Farouk gave me what I needed."

"He watched you for a year, read your thoughts," Ptonomy says. "That's a lot of time to get to know someone. And you're the most important person in David's life."

Syd scoffs at that. "Maybe I was then. But now?"

Ptonomy nods. "Yes. I know, David's been dealing with a lot. He has a lot more people in his life now than he ever did. He has family, friends. All of those relationship are important. But you said it yourself. His love for you is powerful and he can't take it back."

That shouldn't make Syd feel better. She shouldn't want to still be in Farouk's sights. But Ptonomy's been listening to David's thoughts, studying him intensely day and night. He probably knows David better than he knows himself, just like Farouk. If he says David still loves her--

She thinks of Lenny telling her that David loved her so much in Summerland that it was-- Carve out his own heart and eat it much. And despite herself, despite her own need to survive, knowing he loves her that way-- It makes everything else, all the dangers and problems and violations-- None of it matters when she feels his love.

She wants him back. The more she lets herself feel that, the more it hurts that they lost each other. The more it hurts that she pushed him away. The more it hurts that he was gone. The more it hurts that they've been used, both of them, against themselves and each other, all for the benefit of a vile monster.

It's not fair. David loves her so much, and she loves him. That love shouldn't come with so much pain.

"I just want--" Syd starts, carried by a swell of emotion. "What we had should have been ours. Just ours, and he-- That monster took it from us, like he took so much--" She cuts herself off, her throat tight, eyes pricking with unshed tears.

She wants to push all those feelings away from her. She wants to wrap her pain so tight around her heart she can't feel anything. But she can't. She can't allow herself that false comfort, and she knows it's false because it didn't protect her from Farouk, it didn't protect her from her own future self. It didn't protect her from herself or from David. What good is it, all this pain, if it can't protect her?

"I hated my mom," she says, suddenly. "I hated the way she-- She couldn't touch me but-- Sometimes I'd think, even if she could-- Because she didn't let anyone touch her. They could touch her body, but they couldn't--" She feels another fragment of pain break free. "I was so glad when she died, I was so glad. Fuck her, that's what I thought. She died alone and in pain and I was--"

Relieved. She was relieved, but-- Not for her mom, for herself. Her mom was dead and it was over. Syd was free. But she wasn't free. Her mom's poison didn't die with her. It lived on, controlling Syd long after her death. It was a parasite, draining her, making her contagious. It used her to infect David. It did that to her and she couldn't stop herself.

"I don't want to believe the things she taught me," Syd says, firmly. "I want her poison out of me. But I don't--" She takes a breath. "Taking the words out wasn't enough."

"No," Ptonomy agrees. "It was a powerful step, but it was just one step. Real change means the work never stops. We have to teach ourselves to be the kinds of people we want to be. But it's easier if we do it together, if we help each other, if we see the change we want for ourselves in those around us. You've figured out what you don't want, but that's not enough. You need to figure out what you do want, for yourself and for your relationship with David."

"I don't know," Syd admits. Even though she hated her mom-- Her mom was her world. Syd didn't have anyone else. She was an Untouchable Barrett.

"That's okay," Ptonomy says. "But it means you have to look around you. You have to open yourself up to other people so they can show you other ways to be. No one has it all figured out, but they're all doing the work. Cary and Kerry, Amy and Lenny, the Davids, even Oliver. Everyone here has their own way to survive, their own way to love and be loved, their own way of navigating the challenges the world throws at us. That's all any of us are trying to do. So be with us. Talk to us. Open yourself up to the experience."

"Is that my homework for today?" Syd asks, wryly.

"It is," Ptonomy says. "It's time to go down for breakfast. David's awake and everyone's waiting for us. Then he needs me to talk to him, and then after that, you two are going to talk to me together. Use the time to get ready for that."

Syd takes a deep breath. "Right," she says, working up her courage. This is what she came back for. This is what she asked for. A chance to work things out, to try again. To make a relationship with David that's too strong for Farouk to use or break.

"And Syd?" Ptonomy reaches out his hand. "You can talk to me, too. As a friend."

Syd stares at his open hand before forcing herself to reach out and take it. His touch is different from David's, from Amy's. The grip of his hand, the texture of his palm, the pull of his strength against her own. She thinks of Amy's caress, the way it was-- Intimate and giving. She thinks of David's touch and the adoration in it, the devotion, the tender care and the desperate need.

She thinks of how it felt to touch David’s cheek as he cried in grief-stricken shame, horrified at the way he'd unthinkingly hurt her. His tears soaking into her glove and the heat of his flushed face. She stroked his hair as he rested his tired head on the table. She touched his cheek again and saw his shame. She made him hold her hand.

She touched his body every night while he slept. She caressed him the way Amy caressed her arm, but she didn't let him know her touch. She did all that work on her haphephobia while she waited for him, but once he was back--

She used touch like a weapon. She used it to get what she wanted for herself, and sometimes that also meant giving David what he wanted. But touch can be generous, it can be kind. It can give without expectation of return.

Other ways to be. Cary and Kerry, Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy, the Davids, even Oliver. They've all been showing her other ways to be, but she couldn't see them. She was too busy keeping herself in pain. Just like David.

But David's getting better. She has to get better too, so they can get better together.

Chapter 80: Day 11: He's not doing any of this alone. (David)

Chapter Text

When David wakes up, the first thing he sees is-- Divad and Dvd, sitting in the chairs beside the bed. He feels a surge of relief, but he's so bleary from sleep -- he didn't sleep like a log so much as a rock at the bottom of a lake -- that it takes him a while to remember why he's relieved.

They slept with him last night. And now they're out again.

"Cary woke us up an hour ago," Dvd says. "You were still pretty wiped so we let you sleep."

David doesn't remember being woken up. But if he felt even worse than he does now, he's glad they gave him the extra hour.

"Yeah," Divad says. "Yesterday was a lot. We can't take the day off, but we'll all try to take things easier."

"You'll feel better when you step out," Dvd promises. "A lot of that's our body, not you. I mean, you're tired too, but-- Some of that's ours and we're gonna carry it. You're not doing this alone, remember?"

David nods against the pillow, then pulls the blanket over his head.

One of his brothers snorts. It's probably Dvd. David closes his eyes and tries to go back to sleep.

"Morning, sleepyhead."

It's Amy. David's half-tempted to refuse to come out, even for her, but-- It's Amy. And she's-- Not dying, but--

He sighs and pushes back the blanket.

Amy perches on the edge of the bed. "Rough morning already?" she asks, fondly.

David gives her a plaintive look. She touches her hand to his cheek, and he takes it and holds it. Breathing against her artificial skin, he notices-- She even smells like herself. Aesthetically accurate. Amy-scented.

She smells like home.

He can do this. He can get up and do this for her.

When he sits up, she gives him a good, long hug. He clings back, drawing on her strength. They've been through so much, but-- They're together again. That's what matters. He remembers her-- Always being there for him, as much as she could. Maybe that's not all real, but-- It's real to him.

It's real to him.

"Come on," Amy says. "Everyone's been up for a while. Get cleaned up and we'll have breakfast."

David looks around. Everyone's in the lab except Syd and Ptonomy. He knows they have sessions together but not where he can see them, and his system keeps Ptonomy busy most of the day. So they must be having them first thing in the morning. They must be having one now.

He stands and looks at the sitting area. The coffee table is cleared except for two trays full of ceramic pieces, all neatly laid out. There's no sign of the lamp components or the shade. He thinks of-- Lenny and Amy and Ptonomy working on the pieces all night, carefully cleaning off the tape residue. For him.

He's not doing this alone. He feels like-- That should be a mantra unto itself. He's not doing this alone. He can have two mantras, right? Why not? Obviously this idea needs some extra help. He's always had Amy. He remembers always having Amy. He doesn't remember always having brothers, but he did anyway. He had parents, even if he can barely remember them. He remembers having Lenny for-- almost a decade. The idea that he's always been on his own-- That's one of Farouk's delusions. It's just-- A really stubborn one.

When he gets out of the bathroom, breakfast isn't there yet. Lenny and Kerry must be out getting it. Everyone else is sitting at the table with Oliver, looking at photo albums.

"Come join us," Amy beckons. She shifts over so David can sit between her and Oliver, so Dvd has to shift over so she doesn't sit on him. "Oliver's having some memory therapy."

Memory therapy. Like when he looked at family photos with Amy. Except Oliver's memory therapy has a shot at actually working. David remembers then that Oliver had to use a sleep inducer last night, too.

"Oliver, how did you sleep?" David asks. "Did the inducer help?"

"I don't remember," Oliver says, but he sounds pleased about it.

"Oliver was out like a light," Cary says, proudly. "No jazz required. Hopefully at some point he'll be able to sleep normally without the inducer, but-- To have his mind and body sleeping together is going to be extremely beneficial. And we couldn't have done it without Divad."

Divad manages to look smug and humble at the same time. "Tell Cary thanks," he tells Oliver.

"Divad says thank you," Oliver relays. "And I also say thank you, to both of you."

Now Divad just looks smug.

Cary's pleased, too. "We were just telling Oliver about his childhood. Oliver, can you remember what we told you?"

"Apparently I'm from New Zealand," Oliver tells David. "I don't remember it, but-- My first thought was that it sounds very green. The pictures are black and white, but Cary said remembering green is promising."

"Black and white?" David asks, and looks at the album. "They're so old," he says, surprised.

"Remember, Oliver's older than he looks," Cary says. "Just like Kerry. And you and your brothers."

David frowns, then realizes: his missing year. Right. They've all-- Lost time, or-- Found their physical age no longer matching their temporal one. One year is less obvious than twenty-one, but--

He looks at Oliver, and Oliver looks back. There's a moment of-- Wordless understanding. Kinship.

In the ice cube, last month, last year-- Would things have been different if he'd stayed and listened to Oliver?

Yes. They would have been different. If he'd stayed with Oliver-- Maybe Oliver could have protected him, kept him safe. Maybe everything would have been better.

But Oliver was stuck on the astral plane, they both were. The only reason David found his way back was because of Farouk. And the only reason Oliver came back-- Was because he was following David. So there's just as much chance that David would have ended up even more like Oliver than he already is. He might have stayed lost and become detached, forgetting not just his real memories, but his quarter-real memories and his fake memories and everyone he loved.

So even though a lot of-- Terrible things happened, things David has nothing but regret for-- If he'd stayed, they wouldn't all be here now, together, getting better. Oliver wouldn't be remembering New Zealand. David wouldn't be-- Slowly being reassembled by his friends, put back together the right away, instead of-- The desperate fumblings of an escaped mental patient weaning himself off an insane amount of Haldol.

"So, um," David says, looking back down at the album again. "What else do you remember? Besides green?"

"I told Oliver about his parents," Cary says. "Ted and Kathryn, lovely people. And he has two older sisters. What were their names, Oliver?"

Oliver thinks. "Nora and-- Maggie?"

"All no longer with us, I'm afraid," Cary says. "Their children are still in New Zealand, with families of their own, but I'm sure they'll be thrilled to have their Uncle Oliver back."

"Didn't Melanie say-- You inherited Summerland?" David asks. "As a-- Some kind of ranch?"

"A horse ranch," Cary says. "Oliver's family were all horse ranchers, going back generations. One of his uncles took the family business overseas. He was quite successful, but he never had children of his own. So when the time came, he left everything to Oliver." He smiles. "Who promptly sold off everything that wasn't nailed down and used his inheritance to fund Summerland." He gives Oliver a friend elbow. "Always the rebel."

"Apparently so," Oliver agrees.

"So you were already helping mutants before that?" David asks, curious.

"Oliver's been helping people all his life," Cary says. "Not just mutants. A powerful mind like his-- He once told me that he spent his whole life listening to the world, and he heard so much suffering. He felt that his powers were a gift-- Not for himself, but for others. It was his duty to use it to help people, to help them heal." He frowns. "But at that time, few needed help the way we did. Mutantkind. It was a very dark time, David. Despite what you suffered-- The Hallers were good, kind people, to take in a mutant baby, to protect you as best they could."

David looks at Amy. She shifts her chair closer and puts her arm around his back. David leans against her, grateful they're together.

He starts to ask Oliver another question, but realizes-- Oliver isn't answering his questions. Cary's relaying for him. For-- The Oliver-that-was. And he realizes-- It must make Oliver uncomfortable, not remembering all these things that Cary remembers. But Oliver might still be too detached to even register that he's uncomfortable.

"It's all right," Oliver assures him. "We can see together the beauty of souls, hidden like diamonds in the clock of the world."

"Oh," David says, not entirely sure what that means. But-- It's beautiful. It makes him feel-- It's stupid, it's just some-- Snippet of half-forgotten poetry. And he's never been very religious, much less spiritual. But somehow-- It makes him feel like he's more than just-- What he's been made to be.

No, that's-- That's silly. He's not-- Oliver probably didn't even mean anything by it. He's just-- Reciting from memory. David knows what he is. He's a lot of broken pieces on a coffee table.

Dvd gives a long-suffering sigh. David looks at him.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna smash it," Dvd tells him. "We're putting you back together, remember?"

"Aren't you technically part of the lamp?" David replies.

Dvd's answer to that is to give him the finger. But when he drops his hand, he tries to hide his smile, and he can't. And he knows David sees it, and now he's covering his face, embarrassed. It's-- Kind of cute, seeing Dvd actually-- Flustered.

"If I have to be part of that lamp, I'm obviously the bulb," Dvd insists, but he's actually blushing. David can't help but smile back. Which really sets Dvd off, and it's weirdly like-- Flirting. With himself. Or part of himself.

"You sure are glowing," Divad snickers.

Dvd gives him the finger for that, and his blush is replaced by a scowl. David's sad to see it go. He liked-- Being able to make Dvd happy.

And now Dvd looks like might break into tears. Shit.

"Shut up," Dvd says, but not like he means it. "You," he says, pointing at Divad, "are the worst."

Divad gives him the finger for that.

"No fighting, children," Oliver says, tolerantly.

“Okay, Dad,” Dvd says, with palpable sarcasm. Then he gives Divad a narrow-eyed look and mutters, “He started it.”

Thankfully, the sound of approaching laughter distracts both his brothers. David turns to see Lenny and Kerry entering the lab, breakfast trays in hand. Kerry’s the one who was laughing, but Lenny’s looking pleased.

“David!” Kerry greets, happy to see he’s awake. “Lenny just told me this great story about this John who tried to steal her drugs. She cut off his—“

“Thumb,” Lenny interrupts, seeing Cary’s alarm. “I cut off his thumb.”

Kerry frowns, confused. “You said it was his penis?”

Cary’s expression is thunderingly disapproving. David’s never seen Cary look thunderingly anything. He’s never even been a light shower.

“Anyway,” Lenny says, loudly. “Breakfast for people who can eat!” She puts her tray down in front of David and Oliver. Kerry sits down next to Cary with hers, and David isn’t quick enough to stop her from sitting on Divad.

“Ah, that was—“ David starts, but Divad waves him off, already moving to an empty seat. Until the relay’s back on for the day, that’s just something they have to deal with. Or David could start carrying “this seat taken” signs and following his brothers around.

Hmm, that’s actually not a terrible idea.

Kerry sets aside a covered plate for Syd, then lifts the cover off hers.

“Um, shouldn’t we wait for Syd?” David asks.

Amy pauses, presumably checking in with Ptonomy over the mainframe. “We should,” she agrees.

Kerry sighs but puts her cover back on.

Cary looks at Kerry in surprise. “Kerry, do you want to eat?”

“Eggs are okay,” Kerry says, but thinks about it. “I guess— I like eating sometimes. I like eating with my friends. And I like cream soda and hot chocolate and cherry pie.” She gives David a delighted look. He smiles back and she flushes, pleased.

Like Dvd. He’s— Making them happy. It feels— Almost wrong, to make someone happy, like he’s not supposed to be capable of that. He’s always been such a burden on— Everyone. Even the people who loved him— He heard what they thought about him; even when he couldn’t trust what he heard, he still knew when the voices were telling the truth. The bad things people thought about him, those always felt true. And when the monster was gone and he finally knew how to listen— It turned out he was right.

He can’t hear their thoughts now.

“David?” Amy asks, concerned by David’s sudden change in mood.

David doesn’t know what to say. Even thinking these things— It only proves his fears true, thinking them when he just made Kerry and Dvd happy. That’s what he’s doing to them.

“You’re hurting yourself,” Divad warns him.

“Any whose fault is that?” Dvd defends. “Maybe he’s right. We can’t really know they mean it, any of it.”

“What, you think Kerry’s lying about cherry pie?” Divad challenges. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

David knows that. He knows Kerry wouldn’t lie to him. But—

“Hey, I’m not lying either,” Dvd protests.

“If you don’t need to lie to me, then why won’t you let me hear your thoughts?” David asks, annoyed, and then realizes he said that aloud instead of just thinking it. Shit.

“David,” Amy says, but Lenny holds up a hand.

“I got this,” Lenny says. “David, look at me.”

David looks at her.

“The relay’s off,” Lenny continues. “That means you gotta tell us when something’s wrong, remember? Ptonomy’s orders.”

“Oliver knows,” David mutters.

“Oliver’s not on duty,” Lenny says. “C’mon, let out what’s rattling around in that empty head.”

David glares at her for that, but it’s half-hearted. His head is extremely empty.

“It’s stupid,” he protests, ashamed. He’s ashamed. God, he’s having a shame attack. “Shit.” He rubs at his face. “I’m— Having a shame attack,” he admits, feeling even more ashamed because he’s admitting it. The shame onion strikes again.

“Hey, you caught it this time,” Lenny says, like it’s something impressive that he’s too broken to get through breakfast without self-destructing. They haven’t even started eating yet. God, he’s useless.

“We can practice that compassion thing,” Lenny says. “Remember? Like this?” She puts her hand over her heart.

David can’t. He can’t— Love himself, not when he feels like this. But he forces himself to copy Lenny anyway. He feels like such a fraud, he shouldn’t ever be loved, all he ever does is hurt people, they shouldn’t be trying to save him, Farouk’s going to use him like he always does and David will be powerless to stop it.

“Good,” Lenny says. “Now tell yourself something nice, like your foundation.”

David forces himself on. “I’m David.” Farouk’s David. “I survived.” He’s the thing Farouk made, a cocktail, a monster. “I didn’t deserve what happened to me.” He deserved it, of course he deserved it.

He can’t keep going. He can’t say the rest of it, it’s all— Ashes in his mouth. His mantra? He lost everything because he ruins everything. He should be alone. He’s not strong enough to do anything but fail. He—

“I’m loved,” he says, even though that’s the last thing he should be able to say. “There’s no shame in love. There’s no shame in love. There’s no—"

He grips at his chest as the shame starts to fade. He realizes— Amy still has her arm around him. She never stopped holding him.

He pushes aside his breakfast and slumps over the table, absolutely exhausted.

“How about: you’re strong enough to heal?” Lenny says, and David looks up to see if she’s mocking him but she isn’t.

“Cary, could you grab a blanket?” Amy asks.

Cary brings one over and wraps it around David. “That was very good,” Cary says, hands on his shoulders, like Amy’s arm around his back. “We’re all proud of you.”

They shouldn’t be. David still feels ashamed. But it’s getting weaker. He keeps gripping at his chest, keeps telling himself there’s no shame in love. He feels Amy and Cary touching him and sees Lenny and Kerry watching him with caring concern and—

The attack passes. It’s over.

Amy pulls him in for a hug, and he holds her back so tight it would probably hurt if she wasn’t in an android.

“I’m just— One disaster after another,” he says, tired but with some humor.

“You’re a bunch of pieces, right?” Lenny says. “Of course you are, we haven’t glued you back together yet.”

David gives a dry laugh at that.

“Can you tell us what triggered the attack?” Cary asks.

David’s not sure he can say it. He looks at his brothers. They look at each other. They’re probably thinking to each other so he can’t hear.

“Yeah, we were,” Dvd admits. “And we both think you should tell them. Which means— You’re outvoted.”

“You can’t outvote me about my own thoughts,” David protests. That’s completely unfair.

“Tough,” Dvd says. “We just did.”

God, this is humiliating. It’s so— He knows it’s not true, he knows it doesn’t make sense, but—

But he’s full of Farouk’s delusions. And the shame delusion wants to eat him alive. They can’t get it out of him if he doesn’t tell them what it’s doing to him.

“The delusion,” David starts. “The shame delusion. It told me— I can’t make anyone happy.”

The idea that he can make other people happy, that he could make Kerry and Dvd happy— That’s a healthy idea. The delusion parasite knows it's a threat. It tried to destroy the healthy idea so it couldn’t nourish him.

But he fought back. He told himself there’s no shame in love. He gave himself compassion and the monster— the delusion lost. Because he did make Kerry and Dvd happy. He did. He does. They weren’t lying.

“Of course you can make other people happy,” Cary insists. “You’ve made all of us happy.”

David hesitates. All of them? No, he’s— He couldn’t— They—

He puts his hand back over his heart. There’s no shame in love. There’s no shame in love. There’s no shame in love.

The parasite backs down again.

“That parasite really doesn’t like that idea, huh?” Lenny says.

David shakes his head. “It hates it.”

“I bet it does,” Lenny says. “It knows we’re a threat. It wants us gone so it can have an easy meal. But we’re not gonna let it eat you alive, right?”

“Right,” David says, taking strength in her confidence. In her love. In Amy’s love, in Kerry’s, in Cary’s. In Dvd’s.

He looks at Dvd.

Dvd’s looking at him— Intensely. Sometimes that’s been— Overwhelming, even— Upsetting. All that pressure to be— Who he was. But Dvd’s been trying to accept him as he is, David knows that, they spent all that time together yesterday and Dvd just— Stayed with him, kept him company. When they were both disembodied, Dvd held his hand to help him stay grounded. Being outside his body yesterday was— It was so much harder than he wanted to admit, but Dvd really helped him get through.

Their body. He’s— In their body, not his. His system’s body. They’re sharing it together. Even when they’re projected, they’re still inside their body together. Like they were last night. They were there while he slept and it was fine. It's just-- The feeling that's the problem. It's the feeling.

God, there's just-- So many things he has to work on, everywhere he turns. And forget about pinning one problem down and taking it apart when he can barely keep himself from drowning. When he-- Can't keep himself from drowning at all. He's only breathing because-- They're saving him. They keep saving him, over and over, and they're trying to help him be strong enough to save himself.

He's not doing this alone. He's not doing any of this alone.

"David?" Amy prompts.

"I'm okay," David says. He's not okay, he's a bunch of pieces on a coffee table, but-- They're cleaning him up and they're going to glue him back together and-- That's what's okay. That's what's going to get him through-- Everything. Maybe even--

Maybe even Farouk.

The enormous knot of dread in his gut loosens, just a tiny bit, at that thought. They need him to stop Farouk, but-- Stopping Farouk means saving David, saving himself. They're not going to make him do that alone, because they're not making him do it alone now. He's not doing any of this alone.

Chapter 81: Day 11: Who survives a lifetime of torture? (David)

Chapter Text

David tries not to stare at Syd over breakfast, but it's difficult when she's trying not to stare at him.

He tries to focus on something else. Cary's showing Oliver more photos, telling him his own life story, trying to help his mind reconnect with the dormant memories in his brain. But that makes David think about his own memories, and forgetting, and being made to forget makes him think about what he did to Syd, which makes him think about forgiveness, which makes him think about yesterday in the garden, and Syd telling him—

She forgives him. She loves him.

He couldn't hear her thoughts, and Syd's said so many things— He doesn't know what's true. He doesn't know what to believe, he doesn't know what to feel. They're going to have a session together this morning and David feels completely unprepared. He's been putting everything he has into fixing himself and his system. When he tries to think about Syd on top of that—

He should enjoy his breakfast more. It's the only chance he'll get to eat for the rest of the day. He missed eating yesterday. Even though he's so constantly emotionally exhausted that he barely cares what he's given— Now that he can't eat, now that he has to give up his— Their body for— Two-thirds of the day—

In Clockworks, he didn't have much control over his life. He didn't have any, really. But he could choose what to eat. And now— He can't even eat.

He can't fall apart again. He's had three disasters in the last twelve hours, he can't have another. Even if he's a bunch of ceramic pieces, they can't glue him back together if the pieces crumble every time they pick one up.

"You eat lunch for us," Dvd offers. "If I get lunch again. I guess it's up to Ptonomy when it's my turn."

That's— Very kind of Dvd, but— Dvd needs time in their body. He needs to eat. He didn't get to eat for— God, it must have been well over a decade. Like how Oliver didn't sleep for over twenty years.

"We'll eat together when you can share with us again," Dvd says. "Kerry said she doesn't care about eating, but she likes eating with her friends. If it helps you get better— I care a hell of a lot more about you than some stupid sandwich."

David wishes that didn't make him feel better. But it does.

"Thank you," he says, aloud because Dvd deserves that. He gives Dvd a grateful look, and Dvd— Looks happy.

And then they both look at Divad.

"If you want to give up your meal, fine," Divad says. "But I want to eat."

Dvd narrows his eyes, annoyed.

"It's okay," David insists, intervening before they start arguing again. "It's his body, too, right?"

Dvd is not convinced. "We all should be putting our system first."

"I am," Divad says. "David needs to eat to get better. So do I."

"We'll eat together when we can share," Dvd says again.

"Maybe I don't want to always share," Divad replies. "Maybe I need time to just be me and not— Us."

Dvd scowls. "You don't want to be us."

"I'm trying to be part of our system again," Divad tells him. "How am I supposed to do that if you won't let me?"

"David?" Amy touches his arm, drawing his focus. "What are you and your brothers talking about?"

"Oh, um," David starts. He looks around the table. "Eating. Who gets to—" He takes a breath. "Dvd offered to let me eat when it's his turn."

"That's very generous of him," Ptonomy says. "But he needs to eat, too."

"I know," David says. "I told him and— He said—" He glances at Kerry. "He'll eat when we can share again."

Ptonomy considers this. "David, would you be comfortable stepping out so I can speak with Dvd? Just for a minute."

David hesitates. He doesn't want to leave his— Their body. But if it's just a minute—

"I've got you," Amy says, putting her arm around him again.

David gives her a grateful look, then steps out. It's strange, these moments when all three of them are outside of their body, when it's empty and slack. But Dvd steps in and now— It's his body.

Dvd tenses in Amy's hold, but— He doesn't pull away from it.

"Dvd," Ptonomy says. "You have a pattern of self-sacrifice on David's behalf. I know you want to take care of him, but you need to be cared for, too."

"Not eating is bad for David," Dvd insists.

"Not eating is bad for Dvd," Ptonomy counters. "I know yesterday was a lot for all of you, and especially for David. But meals are part of your therapy."

"Yesterday was too much for David," Dvd says, annoyed. "You're supposed to keep things manageable but you didn't."

"None of us want what happened yesterday to keep happening," Ptonomy says. "We've asked David to warn us when things are too much. He didn't."

"Then let me tell you" Dvd says, with eager anger. "Because I'll tell you."

"I want David to tell me," Ptonomy says. "David, please step back in."

Dvd steps out with a huff. David steps back in, even though now he wants to stay out.

"David," Ptonomy says. "After breakfast we're going to have a session, but right now— I want you to tell me what Dvd overheard that made him try to self-sacrifice."

David sighs and tries to find the words. Why is it so much harder to say things than to think them? And sometimes he can't even think them, but then he feels them anyway.

"It's not about the food," he admits. "I mean, I miss eating, but— I just—" He swallows. He feels like a failure. "It's not even about— I want to share, but—" God, what is it? What stubborn thought doesn't want to come out?

He realizes he's curled in on himself, defensive. Afraid. He's afraid.

"I'm afraid," he says, getting the words out before they can hide again.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So what's scaring you?"

Everything. His whole life has been fear, he has an endless list of reasons to be afraid. But David knows that wouldn't be a helpful answer.

And then he glances at Syd and he knows. But he can't just— He can't say that in front of her. If he did— She'd probably— Un-forgive him again. She'd be upset, she'd be angry— She wouldn't cry, Syd doesn't cry, but— She'd still be— Hurt and then—

"You want me to tell them?" Dvd asks, not hiding his eagerness. "I'll tell them."

"Absolutely not," David says. "It's bad enough you were— Yelling at people with your thoughts. You'd better not be doing that anymore."

"Only if they really deserve it," Dvd says. "And Syd absolutely—"

"Don't," David warns. "This is why I don't want her to have the relay."

Syd stiffens.

David wants to kick himself. He keeps thinking things he's supposed to say aloud, and saying things aloud that he should only think. It doesn't matter when the relay is on and everyone can hear everything either way. But everyone doesn't include Syd.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, thankfully catching on. "Finish your breakfast and we'll go up to the garden."

§

David feels like a coward. He's talked about everything in front of everyone for days, but when it comes to talking about Syd—

He can't talk about Syd in front of Syd. This is— It's hard enough not wanting to upset Amy. He's made progress accepting that it's okay to upset Amy, but it absolutely doesn't feel safe to upset Syd. But recognizing that only makes him feel worse.

He just— They told him he hadn't forgiven Syd, but— It's more than that, somehow. Even though he knows she's hurt him, obviously she's— He still can't—

Everything that went wrong between them— It should just be his fault. Even though he feels angry about the things she said to him, did to him— If he'd just— If he'd understood or— If he'd— If he hadn't— There must have been— If he'd known about— But he couldn't have known— But—

He should have. He should have. If he wasn't so stupid he wouldn't have ruined everything.

David realizes— His thoughts are hurting him.

Ptonomy needs to know that. But the relay's still off, so David has to say it.

He glances over at Divad and Dvd. They're sitting apart from each other, each on their own bench while David and Ptonomy have the table. Part of him wants to let Dvd speak for him, like he wanted to accept Dvd's offer of lunch. But Ptonomy's right, it's not fair to ask Dvd to self-sacrifice. David will survive only eating one of their meals a day. He'll survive talking about his own feelings. He can do this.

He still wishes the relay was on.

"About Syd," he starts, because Ptonomy's been patiently waiting for him to spit something out. "It's like— How I feel with Amy but— Worse. A lot worse, and—" Why is this so hard? "Everything that happened— I can't—" Say it, say it. "It has to be my fault." God, it sounds so stupid when he says it aloud. Why is he so stupid?

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering. "Let's take those one at a time. Why are you afraid of upsetting Amy?"

David thinks about that. He can't remember not feeling that way, but— What was it Amy said? "Amy said our whole family was like that. I don't remember, but— She said we didn't want to talk about Mom's illness, or— Our pain. But— It's weird. Not remembering any of that but still—"

"You remember what you learned," Ptonomy says. "Farouk took away your experiential memories, but left some of your semantic memories intact."

"That's— The opposite of what he did with Divad's memories," David realizes. Farouk gave him Divad's experiential memories but not his semantic memories.

Ptonomy nods. "There were a lot of things in your childhood that taught you to hide your pain. But you're a very open person. I think you always have been. The lessons that taught you to be closed must have been extremely harsh."

David takes that in. "But when Farouk changed me— He made me trusting."

"We don't know exactly what he did or how he did it," Ptonomy says. "Personality is a complex thing. We know he gave you strong memories of safety and love. Those memories gave you a sense of secure attachment that you didn't actually have growing up. Secure attachment helps us trust. Applied retroactively to a traumatized mind— That might explain a lot."

"Feeling loved without feeling loved," David says. "I think— He made a cocktail out of Mom and Amy. In my memories. Like Benny and Lenny."

"So memories you have of Amy, those were originally your mom?"

David nods. "Some of them. I can't really— I've been trying to— Find the seams. The inconsistencies. So I can— Try to accept what I have."

"I think that's a healthy approach," Ptonomy says. "And that can help you understand yourself better. If your mom was sick and you were afraid of upsetting her— The emotions you felt for her were combined with the emotions you felt for Amy. Just like how Farouk combined the emotions you felt towards Benny and Lenny."

David tries to imagine how it must have been for him before, in his actual past. A sick but loving mom, her health delicate. And— He was delicate, too. That's what Amy said, that's how Divad and Dvd treat him. They had to be careful not to upset him because he was already deeply traumatized. And David had secrets he had to keep: about his powers, about his brothers, about— About the monster. Because when he tried to tell people about the monster, they thought he was crazy.

Maybe that's why it's so hard to talk. Because he was taught over and over again not to talk, that talking about his feelings and his powers and so many other things— It was dangerous, it was wrong, it hurt him and hurt his family. And then— He forgot all of that. But Farouk left him Amy. He left David a strong cocktail of Mom and Amy and all the emotions: the love, the need, the fear, the dependence.

"But Syd is just Syd," David points out. At least— He's mostly sure Syd is just Syd. God knows his own mind can't be trusted.

"Let's talk about that other idea," Ptonomy says. "That blaming yourself, hurting yourself, will protect you. We've talked about this before. That shame you feel, that self-punishment is a survival mechanism."

"Because of my— What was it?"

"Developmental trauma," Ptonomy says. "But there's more to it than that. I've talked about this with your brothers, but I think we need to address it now so you can make progress with Syd and with them. It's trickier with you because— Again, you can't remember the experiential side of those memories."

"But they remember," David says. "What Farouk did to us."

Ptonomy nods. "They remember a lot of it. You only remember— The scar tissue. The semantic memory, shapeless lessons of fear and pain. Those feelings are real and powerful, but your false memories and amnesia make it hard for you to understand the reasons for your own actions. Farouk uses that ignorance. He exploits the gap between reality and perception. That doesn't mean he tells the truth. It means because we don't know our real truths, he can fool us with his."

There's no one with a bigger gap between reality and perception than David himself. It's no wonder he's been so easy to manipulate. Two months ago, he didn't know about the monster or his powers. Two weeks ago, he didn't know he had DID. But Farouk made him this way. That ignorance is what Farouk wants, what he needs.

"That's how he pulls off his tricks," Ptonomy continues. "But the more we close that gap, the less room he has to work."

"But my memories are gone," David says. "And you said— Recovering my traumatic amnesia—"

"Your system isn't ready for that," Ptonomy says. "But we don't need you to remember, not for this. Because the thing about abuse is that it doesn't go away on its own. It becomes central to our perceptions of ourselves and those around us, and so we repeat it. There's a term for that: traumatic re-enactment. Sometimes that means hurting ourselves because there's no one who will hurt us the way our abuser did. Sometimes that means being drawn to people who will give us what we think we need. So we can look at your life history, at the relationship patterns you've engaged in, and we can get a sense of the original abuse."

David doesn't like where this is heading, but— He isn't surprised, either. Lenny tried to distract him, and it worked for a while. "Divad and Syd." He glances over at Divad, but Divad is looking firmly away.

Ptonomy nods.

David wishes he could deny it. But even though he lost all those memories of Farouk— He has some. He has enough. He's seen the way he and his brothers fit together, hurting each other, hurting him. Their system has been re-enacting their trauma over and over.

And Syd— Yesterday, she said she didn't want to do to him what her mom did to her. And he's afraid of her, afraid of— Her anger, her— Punishment. So he tries to blame himself because—

"How did blaming myself protect me?" David asks, because he honestly doesn't know.

"We know the pattern," Ptonomy says. "A very simple and cruel lesson that Farouk taught your system over and over. However it started— Farouk would create an impossible situation for you, one you would try and fail to resolve. Then you were punished for that failure. That punishment could be severe. When you finally broke, when you'd 'learned your lesson'— That's when you were given love so you could heal, so you could recover before it all happened again."

"Farouk never loved me," David insists. He sure of that, no matter what Farouk claims.

"You don't remember," Ptonomy says, gentle but firm. "But the pattern tells us. You were too young to do anything but accept what he did to you. We know you were given King's love, your brothers' love, to help you heal. So blaming yourself— That's a way for you to stay in the part of that cycle where you feel safest. The part of the cycle where you're loved."

Ptonomy waits while David takes that in.

David looks at Dvd and Divad. Divad still won't face him, but Dvd is looking back at him, arms crossed but his eyes full of emotion.

Dvd's self-sacrifice, his protectiveness. He said— The other day, when he looked at David with tears in his eyes, desperate to be the one to hold him, to make him better—

Traumatic re-enactment. David broke and Dvd healed him, over and over again for years. And Divad—

Divad healed him, too. He has powers— But he—

"What was the lesson?" David asks, even as he feels the answer inside him, shapeless and huge. "The one Farouk made me learn?"

"That David was bad," Ptonomy says, as gently as he can. "Over and over again, he taught that David was bad. And then you became a system, and that system tried hard to fight back. But they learned the same lesson you did."

Divad's apology yesterday. The things he said. The things he's said since he came back. Sometimes it's felt like Divad is two different people in one, alternately punishing David and helping him. But that's the lesson they all learned. And David punishes himself, or—

He finds someone who will.

"I love Syd because she hurts me," David says.

"You both came into your relationship with unresolved trauma," Ptonomy explains. "If there are two traumatized people in a crowded room, they'll find each other. They'll feel familiar to each other and that familiarity can feel like safety. But if they can't resolve that trauma, their relationship will become a re-enactment. But the good news is that you don't have to re-enact, you don't have to repeat that pattern of abuse. Syd is working on resolving her trauma and so are you and your brothers."

David stands up and just— Walks a few steps away, stops. He faces the city and feels the breeze, the warmth of the sun.

He feels—

He can't even begin to process how he feels. He can't—

Who is he? Who is he, in all of this? Because everything he's learned, everything in him, every memory, every pattern, every relationship, every thought

It's hard to believe there's anything left of him, of who he would have been if none of this had happened. It's hard not to feel like they saved him too late.

A lifetime of torture. Who survives a lifetime of torture?

He didn't. He never survived. He just became the torture. Even when he forgot everything, he knew what he deserved.

He doesn't want to die now, but the feeling— It wasn't just that he was trying to make it stop. He was hurting himself the only way he could, because—

He was in an impossible situation and he failed to resolve it. So he had to be punished, he had to— Suffer. He had to suffer as much as he could, he had to—

He doesn't even— All his mistakes, were they mistakes? Or self-sabotage? How can he know? He can't trust his own mind, his own memories, his own instincts. He's so full of delusions, monstrous delusions—

It feels like the only answer is more pain. Because all of those things are proof of his brokenness, his worthlessness, his— If he just hurts himself enough— If he just—

But that's Farouk's lesson. His abuse. There is no right amount. It's all a trick. He's had a lifetime of pain and it never made him better. It only made him worse, fed the shame inside him until—

He breathes. His face is wet with tears, but he keeps breathing.

He doesn't want to be Farouk's David anymore. He doesn't want to be a victim of Farouk or himself. He wants to be his own David. He doesn't want that David to re-enact. He doesn't want that David to seek out his own destruction.

But he doesn't— How can he ever—

He's just pieces. They took him apart, they got him clean, but— Now what?

"Now what?" he asks, turning back to Ptonomy. He sits back down and looks at him, hoping desperately for an answer.

"We keep doing the work," Ptonomy says. "The work never stops for anyone. We've done a lot so far. We kept you alive and helped you stay alive. We put a lot of work into understanding you and helping you understand yourself and your relationships. And now you're ready for the next stage."

"Okay," David says, listening.

"Our goal for your system's therapy is healthy multiplicity. That's all three of you working together and treating your system with love and respect. You have a similar goal with Amy. You want your relationship with her to be reciprocal, respectful, honest and open. You've made progress on those relationships. How does that make you feel?"

"Good," David says, thinking of how much closer he is with Amy, how much better they both feel not being— Afraid of each other. "Happy," he says, thinking of that moment before breakfast with Dvd, making him smile and smiling back.

"That's excellent," Ptonomy says, warmly. "Our family should be our example for healthy relationships. That isn't always possible, but that doesn't mean we can't do the work to improve those relationships together and make them what we always needed them to be. As long as we're here and we love each other, we can do the work together."

"I'm not doing this alone," David says.

"That's right," Ptonomy says. "None of us are doing this alone. The more we help each other, the easier all of this will be."

David takes a deep breath and lets it out. He dries his face. He looks at his brothers, then back at Ptonomy.

"And Syd?" he asks.

"When you're ready, she'll come up and join us," Ptonomy says. "You two will have the chance to talk about how you feel and to discuss what you want for your relationship. But David— It's very important to understand that you do have a choice. You always have the choice to say no to whatever makes you uncomfortable. Even with your family, Amy and your brothers. You have the right to tell them when you're uncomfortable. You have the right to reject a bad situation, to reject and leave a bad relationship."

"I can't leave my brothers," David counters.

"You can't," Ptonomy agrees. "That's why it's so important for all three of you to get better together. And the three of you do love each other, just like you and Amy love each other. What does love mean to you, David?"

David has to think about that. Love is in his foundation, he should know what it means. He knows the love he's felt from his family, his friends. "Um— Affection. Support." That's all true, but it feels like there's more. Healthy multiplicity, being open with Amy— "Trust. Honesty. Respect."

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "So when someone says they love you, but they don't treat you with trust, honesty, and respect?"

David hesitates. If it’s not his fault— He looks at Ptonomy questioningly.

"That means there's a problem," Ptonomy explains. "Maybe it's something small. Talk to the person, try to understand each other better, talk out what's wrong. If it works, you'll feel their love. But serious problems— There are two ways that can go. Either they'll be ready to accept help or they won't."

"So I should help them?" David asks.

"If you can," Ptonomy says. "But for serious problems— They'll need help from someone else. And that's okay. When we're hurt, we need a doctor, someone trained in healing. If you needed surgery, you wouldn't ask Amy to do it just because she loves you, you'd go to a hospital."

David nods.

"So that last situation," Ptonomy says. "If you're in a relationship with someone who says they love you, but they don't treat you with love and they're not ready to accept help? If they just want to keep hurting you? What do you think you should do?"

"I should— Say no?" David asks.

"You should say no," Ptonomy agrees. "And if they don't take no for an answer?"

David hesitates again. But— Ptonomy said— "I should reject them?"

"You should reject them," Ptonomy agrees. "How about you write that down?"

"Okay," David says, opening his notebook.

"Write down what you feel love is," Ptonomy guides. "And then write down what to do when you don't feel loved."

David thinks, then writes:

Love means giving each other affection and support, and treating each other with trust, honesty, and respect.

If someone says they love me but I don't feel loved, we should talk out small problems.
If the problems are big, we should get help.
If the other person won't stop hurting me, I should reject them.

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "How about we add one more thing? You have the right to say no. Not just when you're being hurt. If you sense something is wrong, if you're uncomfortable, if a situation feels off to you— Say no. Step back. If there's someone who you trust, go to them and ask for help. You have the right to say no."

David writes: I have the right to say no.

"Excellent work," Ptonomy says. "Where are your brothers right now?"

David points them out.

"Divad, Dvd," Ptonomy says. "Do you agree with what David wrote?"

"Of course," Dvd says.

"Yeah," Divad says, quietly.

"They do," David relays.

"They can make mental projections of your system’s notebook, right?" Ptonomy asks.

"Sure," David says. "Do you want them to write something?"

"I want all three of you to each do your system foundation work," Ptonomy says. He hands David the system notebook. "Add what you just wrote to this, and have your brothers write it in their mental notebooks. Then I want all of you to write out your foundational ideas again, as they are. And then David, you need to do your own foundation and mantra work. When all three of you are ready, we'll have our session with Syd."

Dvd and Divad create copies of their system notebook and come over to the table. They sit down on either side of David and the three of them begin to write.

Chapter 82: Day 11: She'll be the sister Syd never had. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"Thank you," David says, suddenly, during breakfast.

Syd turns and sees David looking at the empty chairs set aside for his alters. His brothers. Dvd and Divad. The three of them are having another one of their conversations, and with the relay off only Oliver can hear all of it. And Oliver is busy listening to Cary so he can learn his own life story.

"It's okay," David insists. "It's his body, too, right?"

David's called it hearing a third of a conversation, when the three of them talk, but it's even less than that because Dvd and Divad don't need the relay to hear David's thoughts. That's how they spoke secretly with David for days and days, before they showed themselves physically to David and he started talking back to them out loud. When Syd thought David was lost in his thoughts, the three of them were having private conversations in his head, talking about Farouk, about her, making plans. And they’ve always been there, watching her through David’s eyes. They’ve experienced everything David experienced, including her.

They're not like Farouk. They're other parts of David. They're the rest of him. It's just that the rest of him happens to be two other people.

"David?" Amy touches David's arm, drawing his attention. "What are you and your brothers talking about?"

"Oh, um," David starts. He looks around the table. "Eating. Who gets to—" He takes a breath. "Dvd offered to let me eat when it's his turn."

"That's very generous of him," Ptonomy says. "But he needs to eat, too."

"I know," David says. "I told him and— He said—" He glances at Kerry. "He'll eat when we can share again."

Ptonomy considers this. "David, would you be comfortable stepping out so I can speak with Dvd? Just for a minute."

David hesitates.

"I've got you," Amy says, putting her arm around him.

David gives Amy a grateful look, then— He's Dvd. It's still so strange seeing them switch, seeing David become someone else. Dvd's expression is decidedly less grateful. His posture tenses, his eyes are hard and narrow with suspicion.

"Dvd," Ptonomy says. "You have a pattern of self-sacrifice on David's behalf. I know you want to take care of him, but you need to be cared for, too."

"Not eating is bad for David," Dvd insists.

"Not eating is bad for Dvd," Ptonomy counters. "I know yesterday was a lot for all of you, and especially for David. But meals are part of your therapy."

"Yesterday was too much for David," Dvd says, annoyed. "You're supposed to keep things manageable but you didn't."

"None of us want what happened yesterday to keep happening," Ptonomy says. "We've asked David to warn us when things are too much. He didn't."

"Then let me tell you," Dvd says, with eager anger. "Because I'll tell you."

"I want David to tell me," Ptonomy says. "David, please step back in."

Dvd huffs, and then— He's David again. His defenses fall away, his posture relaxes, and his eyes fill up with emotion.

"David," Ptonomy says. "After breakfast we're going to have a session, but right now— I want you to tell me what Dvd overheard that made him try to self-sacrifice."

David sighs. "It's not about the food," he admits. "I mean, I miss eating, but— I just—" He swallows and his body curls in, defensive. "It's not even about— I want to share, but—" He realizes something. "I'm afraid."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So what's scaring you?"

David concentrates, looks around, and then—

He looks at her for only a moment before he looks away.

"Absolutely not," David says to one of the empty chairs. "It's bad enough you were— Yelling at people with your thoughts. You'd better not be doing that anymore. Don't," he warns. "This is why I don't want her to have the relay."

Syd stiffens.

David looks like he wants to kick himself.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, realizing what David doesn’t want to say aloud. "Finish your breakfast and we'll go up to the garden."

David nods and stares down at his food, probably so he doesn’t have to look at anything else. At her.

She’s what’s scaring him, what’s upsetting him. Dvd and Divad knew that even before David did. And of course they did. David doesn’t like thinking about the things that upset him. She’s always known that.

She's hurt him. He doesn't want to think about that, but they're going to have their session soon and that means he has to think about it.

David finishes eating and stands up. He looks at Ptonomy, who also stands, and then glances at Syd once and very quickly before they both leave the lab.

"Syd?" Amy says. "Are you okay?"

Syd's instinct is to say she's fine. It's to grit her teeth and shove everything down until she can get away and be on her own, and then to numb herself however she can. She wants to do that so much. It's taking everything she has to not do that.

But she can't. She has to teach herself to be the kind of person she wants to be. And she doesn't know what she wants to be, so she has to stay with her friends and open up to them, learn from them. That's her homework. That's how she's going to get better.

It's just— Breathtakingly hard. She really needs a mantra.

"How about you come sit with me?" Amy asks, when Syd doesn't answer her. She pats the empty chair beside her.

Looking at the empty chair— Syd realizes that if David is gone, so are Dvd and Divad. And that makes her feel a tiny bit better, just enough for her accept Amy's offer. She feels very exposed as she gets up and walks around the table. She sits down next to Amy and holds herself very still.

"Can I touch you?" Amy asks.

After this morning, Syd's wary. But they touched her yesterday and it was fine, it was more than fine. Maybe different kinds of touch affect her differently. She has to experiment to find out.

"Okay," she says.

Amy slowly brings her arm around until she's holding Syd the way she was holding David. Their bodies are close, their sides just pressing together. She and David never touched this way. They can't touch casually with their real bodies, and when they were in the white room, casual was the last thing they wanted. It's been very— All or nothing, aching absense or full intensity, even when they weren't having sex.

This is different than a hug, different than Ptonomy's hand, different than Amy stroking her arm this morning. It feels— Supportive, intimate, but not demanding. A little awkward because even close together, there's a gap between the chairs. But it's good. It feels good. She feels safe. Amy feels safe.

Syd breathes out.

Amy moves her arm, rubbing where her hand rests against the back of Syd's hip. Syd's mind follows the motion, feels the way Amy's fingertips press harder than her palm, the way her thumb lags and drags. It's distracting, even lulling. Syd feels herself relax. Physically, at least.

"Better?" Amy asks.

Syd nods.

"I'm sorry you and David are having such a difficult time," Amy continues. "This is very hard for both of you. And I think seeing each other hurting makes it harder."

Syd nods again.

"Are you worried about your session with David?" Amy asks. "Ptonomy will get David ready, and we'll help you get ready. You're not doing this alone. We're all here for both of you."

Syd looks at Amy, then looks around the table. Everyone looks back.

"We're here for you, Syd," Cary says. "Just like we're here for David and Oliver and each other. This is a place of healing for all of us."

Summerland at the heart of Division 3. Syd wants that. She wants to be able to open up to them the way she did yesterday, but that was— That moment is over. Even with Amy holding her— Even with friends around her—

She's not one of them. She's not part of Summerland. She doesn't belong to this— Circle of healing they have, that David has. And why should she? David's afraid of her. Why did she put love in her foundation? She's just lying to herself again, thinking he still loves her when he can barely stand her presence. No one could love her.

"Broken minds in beautiful bodies," Oliver says, suddenly. "Unable to receive love because of not knowing the self as lovely."

Syd tenses again, stares at him. "You're not supposed to listen."

"Yet hearing is unavoidable," Oliver replies, unbothered. "By any chance— Have you ever been to China?"

"Of course," Syd says, confused. "When we were trying to rescue you? Farouk took you to Buddhist temples to find the monk."

Oliver furrows his brow, concentrating. "Hmm. Will Buddha be acceptable on the stolid planets or will we find Zoroastrian temples flowering on Neptune?"

Cary intervenes. "Oliver, what do you remember about China? Do you remember the temples?"

"What do I remember?" Oliver ruminates. "I remember— A million skeletons in China. Grief. Mud? A great deal of mud."

"Mud?" Cary says, and now he's concentrating. He realizes something. "Oliver, can you remember how you and Melanie met?"

"Was it in China?" Oliver asks. "I thought perhaps she was Chinese."

"You did meet in China," Cary says, and now he's excited. "There was a terrible flood. So many lost their homes, their lives— People came from all over the world to help. You and Melanie met in— I think it was Nanjing?" He closes the album of Oliver's youth and opens another one. He flips to a page. "Ah, here!" He slides the album in front of Oliver. "This is the shelter you both worked at. And here's a group photo of your team. Very international, I believe arrangements were made through the League of Nations? And here's one of just you and Melanie."

Syd looks at the album. There's young Melanie and Oliver, posing for the camera in faded color. A shelter full of bedraggled Chinese, some of them visibly injured. Melanie and Oliver and their whole team look tired but determined. Oliver turns the page, and—

There's a photo of Melanie smiling shyly, looking adoringly at the camera. She's cleaned up, dressed in Chinese apparel. Oliver rests his fingers at the edge of the photo.

"Melanie," Oliver says, quietly. "She didn't believe she could be loved."

Syd stiffens. Everyone notices.

"Oliver, do Syd's thoughts remind you of Melanie's?" Cary asks. "Of how she was when you first met?"

"You were never no locomotive, sunflower," Oliver says to the photograph. "You were a sunflower."

"Syd, is that how you feel?" Amy asks, gently. "That you can't be loved?"

God, Syd hates telepathy. Her mind should be her own, inviolate. No one should be allowed into it, no one.

But David's a mind reader.

He can't hear her thoughts now, but he will. If he keeps getting better, if he can get stable enough, the crown will come off and then—

She'll hurt him.

Even if she can change her behavior, force herself to— She learned to endure touch, but she couldn't learn to enjoy it. Her body wouldn't let her. Her body will never let her. She'll never—

What was it Melanie said? No, Farouk. You can make someone do things, but there's no force on Earth that can make them enjoy it.

"I wouldn't take his advice," Oliver says, and he's looking at her again. "I believe you're meant to be trusting your friends more than your enemies."

"Syd?" Cary asks, concerned.

Syd wants to get up and walk out of the lab and never look back. She wants to walk away from all of this, from supportive environments and caring friends and androids that can touch her. All of this love and softness and— It's not who she is.

But she doesn't want to be who she is anymore. She doesn't want her mother's poison, she doesn't want to be— Alone. She doesn't want to be alone. But not wanting to be alone doesn't help her figure out how to be with people, and not just— In the same room as them.

But right now, being in the same room is as much as she can manage.

David's getting better. But what if she can't? What if he puts all that work into getting better, and then— She's the same?

"Scared, huh?" Lenny asks.

"Of course not," Syd lies.

Lenny's amused. "I've been in your head, too, sister," she says. "Look, I don't like this talking shit either. But you're our patient. Either you talk to us or Oliver starts relaying."

"I don't want that," Syd says, firmly. She absolutely doesn't want her thoughts being sent into the mainframe.

"David didn't want it either," Lenny says. "He didn't want a lot of things. But Division 3 didn't give him a choice."

"I don't have a choice either," Syd says, coldly.

"She says she doesn't have a choice," Lenny says, to the room at large. She focuses back on Syd. Lenny's android is slumped but there's threat in her posture. "Division 3 murdered me to save Amy and they sure as hell didn't ask nicely. David didn't get asked nicely when they knocked him out and shoved him into a cell with that crown on his head. Maybe you think this is like Clockworks and you're just visiting. Well guess what, Miss Perfect? You're not better than us."

"I don't think I'm better than you," Syd defends.

"Really?" Lenny challenges. "Because that's sure what it looks like. You just wanna float along above everyone else. Can't ruin those pretty hands in the dirt."

"I don't have to listen to this," Syd mutters, looking away.

Lenny makes a game-show buzzer sound. "Wrong answer. Guess what? You're not in charge anymore. Let me put this in words I know you understand: You're the song they play outside a hostage crisis to keep criminals from thinking clearly."

Syd glares at her. It wasn't her finest moment, going down to Lenny's cell to sneer at her, but she didn't think Lenny was Lenny. She was trying to protect David.

And then David chose Lenny over her. He chose Lenny to save his life in the desert, and he was going to run away and take Lenny with him.

"I was trying to protect David," she says.

"So am I," Lenny says. "So are all of us. And we're trying to not die or have our minds dissolved or get tortured for decades. And hey, we're trying to save the world. Or did you ever give a shit about the world?"

"Do you?" Syd retorts.

"Fuck the world," Lenny says. "I'm here for David, sure. But I'm doing this for me. I want that shit beetle dead and I want a new body so I can live. I'd say that's what gets me up in the morning, but I don't sleep anymore. So what gets you going?"

"Saving the world isn't enough?" Syd asks.

"If it was, you wouldn't keep clamming up," Lenny says.

That's not—

Shit. She does keep clamming up. And Ptonomy and Clark— She only made progress because they pried her open. And now it's Lenny's turn, apparently. Even without the relay, they've been studying her, figuring her out. The mainframe has all her case files, it has recordings of her, it has god knows what else. And that’s— She hates how that makes her feel.

"So what's it gonna be?" Lenny challenges. "You gonna relay for yourself, or does Oliver have to do it?"

"I'll do it," Syd says, even though she absolutely does not want to do it.

"Good," Lenny says. "So what's the advice you're not supposed to be following?"

"You can make someone do something, but you can't make them enjoy it," Syd grits out.

Lenny gestures for Syd to continue.

"David's a mind reader," Syd says, hating herself for admitting any of this. It's pathetic how weak she is. "It doesn't matter how much 'better' I get, he'll always know how I really feel."

"Syd," Cary says. "The point of therapy isn't to make you— Better able to fool people. It's to change how you think. You change your mind and your behavior changes with you."

She doesn't want to change. "Maybe I can't change," she says.

"How would you know?" Lenny challenges. "You never tried. You weren't in Clockworks to get better."

"Neither were you," Syd says.

"Hey, if the fate of the world rested on me accepting help for my problems, the world would be fucked," Lenny says. "But you and David got the short straws. We got David to start helping himself. Now it's your turn. Tell us what you're really afraid of. And don't say it's David because we both know that's bullshit."

Syd glares at Lenny again. But she knows Lenny is right. She has to start helping herself. She knows how hard it was for everyone, pulling together to keep David alive. She was right there with them, trying desperately to haul him up onto dry land when all he wanted to do was drown.

And now Syd's the one who wants to drown.

Why did David want to die? There were a lot of reasons, but in the end— He was punishing himself. He was making himself suffer because that's what he thought he needed, because that's what he was taught. They both have developmental trauma. So she must be doing her own version of that.

She thinks of the loop of her past. Ptonomy said she was teaching those lessons to herself long before David entered her mind. She was— Giving herself pain, making herself suffer, because—

Because pain makes her strong. Because love makes her weak.

"I'm afraid of being weak," she admits, finally.

Her mom's salons. There were always artists with mustaches and men with money clips, like big game hunters trying to bring them down. The Untouchable Barretts kept their heads instead. But every hunt was a lesson. Every day as an outcast at school was a lesson. Every time her mom looked at her with quiet resentment and had another drink—

Every one of those lessons went into her foundation.

"The ideas I don’t want,” Syd says. “I took them out of my foundation. But that wasn't enough."

"What did you take out?" Cary asks.

Syd doesn't want to tell him. Everyone probably already knows, they know everything Ptonomy knows. But she saw with David— It's not about them.

"Love makes us weak," Syd says, avoiding their eyes. "Pain makes us strong. I don't need help. I'm a victim. I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it."

"Those are very painful ideas to depend on," Cary says, and he sounds sad. She looks up and sees— Pity? She doesn't want pity. But no, it's— Empathy?

"I never put my foundation into words," Cary continues. "But I think— If I had, it would have included some of those things. Not all of it, but— That suffering will somehow help me. That love isn't something I deserve."

"Cary," Kerry says, reaching for him.

Cary takes Kerry's hand. "I try not to accept those ideas anymore. But there are moments— Syd, those ideas will never go away, any more than the physical scars we bear. And I think— In many ways, that's the hardest part. We can only truly get better by accepting our wounds and learning to care for them, learning to let others care for them. And it’s okay that it’s hard for you to do those things. Acceptance and compassion, for ourselves and others— Sometimes we have to learn them later in life because we weren’t shown them when we needed them most.”

“But it’s never too late,” Kerry adds, looking at Cary meaningfully. “Because we’re here and we’re together. Right?”

Cary gives her a warm smile. “Absolutely.” He turns back to Syd. “When we gave David his DID diagnosis— You were so afraid it was too late for him. And now I think you’re afraid it’s too late for you. But it isn’t. You don’t deserve to suffer any more than David does, any more than I do. It can be hard for us to love ourselves. When pain has been a refuge— It’s frightening to step into the unknown. But you’re so much more than just your pain. You’re a strong and courageous person. You fight to protect the people you love and the ideals you care about. You’re able to be vulnerable, to give and accept love. Those are wonderful parts of yourself. Love them in yourself the way you would love them in someone else.”

It's more compassion therapy, Syd knows that. But she knows that Cary isn't saying these things out of— It isn't condescension, it isn't judgement, because— He's doing what she needs to do. He's opening up, being vulnerable, trusting. She feels— A sharp pang of envy for him, for the love and trust he and Kerry share, for the fact that he's already done so much and she's barely started.

He's been doing the work for decades. But he's still doing the work because whatever abuse went into his foundation— He can't simply take it out either.

She's been comparing herself to David, to the way he's been building a foundation from scratch. She wants a clean start, too. But David's start is anything but clean. Farouk destroyed who he was. And despite everything he's working towards, he faces that destruction every day, sifting through the rubble, trying to salvage himself, to find— Pieces he can love.

"I don't know how to— Love myself," Syd admits. "Or to be vulnerable or—"

"I think you do," Cary says. "We're all born with the potential for love. But when things go wrong, when those seeds aren't nurtured— They wait until it's safe to grow."

"You and David fell in love in Clockworks," Amy says, and Syd realizes Amy's arm is still around her back, that she never let go. "You must have felt safe there with him, like he did with you."

Safe. Syd's never been safe anywhere.

But David's love made her feel safe. In Clockworks, in Summerland, facing down a monster— She relied on his love just like he relied on hers. A year of waiting made all that fade away, made her pull back into herself, into her pain. Her old refuge.

She pulls into her shell when she doesn't feels safe. That shell is her pain, her isolation; it's all the ways she survived growing up. But she's not a child anymore.

"So I have to— Leave my old refuge," Syd tries. "Allow myself to be weak so I can be— Nurtured. And that will make me strong."

Cary considers this. "Yes, but— If your ideas of weak and strong remains the same— It's likely you'll end up right back where you started."

"Right," Syd says, taking that in. It's not just her foundation and refuge that need to change, it's her goal. It's— Her whole idea of what she's supposed to be.

And somehow she's supposed to do all of that even though she can't escape everything that got her here in the first place.

"Jesus, how does anyone get better?" Syd mutters.

Cary laughs. "No one ever said change was easy. But speaking from experience— It's worth the effort." He looks at Kerry again as he squeezes her hand. Then he looks back to Syd. "Lenny's right, what you need most is motivation. I care deeply about the world, about mutantkind, but those can feel very abstract. Kerry has always been my true motivation. Even at my most difficult moments, I kept going for her. The Davids seem to have something similar."

"I'm not a system," Syd points out.

"But you're not alone," Amy counters. "If you can't change for yourself— Change for someone you love. Change so that you can be with them without hurting them, so that— You can be with each other the way you always should have been."

Syd looks at Amy, and realizes— Of course. Amy changed for David so they could forgive each other, so they could— Love each other. They loved each other before, but— They were afraid to open up, to be vulnerable, to risk hurting each other— And by refusing all of that, they hurt each other anyway.

Syd needs a better way to be. And she's starting to figure out what that is. But if there's anyone who understands what she's been through— The difficulty of opening up, of trusting in love, of needing someone and losing them—

Of needing David, hurting him and losing him— And getting him back—

It's Amy.

And if Syd can do this, if David can do this, if they can both get better and survive all of this—

Amy will be family. She'll be the sister Syd never had. Not just— Someone who visits David and makes him sad, or a hostage they have to rescue, or a distant but friendly voice on the other end of the phone.

If she stays with David, Amy will be her sister.

Maybe she already is. Or she's trying to be. She's trying to give Syd love, like she tried to give Syd love for the long year David was gone. But Syd couldn't let herself accept it.

She's accepting it now, letting Amy hold her to treat her touch starvation. She's accepting their compassion therapy.

Syd wants to get better for David, but— Things between them are still so difficult. Maybe— Even if she and Amy aren't sisters, they can be—

"Amy, um," Syd starts. It's hard to be vulnerable, but— She knows what genuine vulnerability looks like. It looks like David. So if she wants to be vulnerable, she just has to— Be David. "I know it sounds, um, kinda weird, but— Will you be my friend?"

Amy looks absolutely touched. "I'd be honored, as long as— You'll be my friend?"

Trust is a two-way street. If Syd opens up to someone, they'll open up to her.

"I will," Syd says, and it feels like a solid step onto dry land.

Chapter 83: Day 11: The person who knows what's best for you— Is you. (David)

Chapter Text

He has the right to say no. He has the right to say no.

David knows that's not entirely true. If he had the right to say no, he wouldn't have been forced into therapy in the first place. He absolutely said no to therapy in that courtroom and no one listened. So it's obviously— A lot more complicated than that.

But where he is right now— They're trying to teach him the basics. He gets that. They're trying to teach him to be healthy, to have boundaries, to— Not just blame himself for everything that goes wrong. To not just do whatever he's told even though it hurts him, because it hurts him. He has to be able to say no. He has to be able to know when he needs to say no.

Like knowing when his thoughts are hurting him. Like knowing when he's having a shame attack. Like knowing when things are too much and he needs to ask for help so he doesn't go away. Like knowing when he's dissociating because he's scared.

He's trying. With all of that, he's trying, even though he's still really terrible at it.

He's not doing this alone. He's strong enough to heal. He belongs to himself.

"Okay," David says, and looks up from his notebook. "I'm ready."

Ptonomy waves Syd over. She has her own notebook with her. She sets it down in front of her when she sits at the round table. The three of them are positioned so there's an equal amount of space between them. Divad and Dvd are back on their benches with their own notebooks.

Everyone has a notebook. Everyone's doing the work. Ptonomy says it will be easier if they do it together. So here he and Syd are, doing the work together.

"Syd, David," Ptonomy says. "How about each of you says how you're feeling right now, and where you are in your therapy. Syd, would you like to start?"

"Okay," Syd says. She meets David's eyes. "Right now I'm feeling— Vulnerable. And it's hard, feeling this way. But I have to— Open myself up. To my friends, to other ways of being than— What I was taught. I don't want to be how I was."

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "David, it's your turn."

David takes a steadying breath and looks down at his notebook. He feels a lot of things, but— "I feel vulnerable, too. But I guess that's— Usually how I feel, so—" He tries again. "I'm trying to be healthy, to not— Punish myself or let other people punish me. And that's—" He's strong enough to heal. "That probably shouldn't be so hard. But it is and I'm— Afraid. Because I don't even know when I'm doing it."

"That's a scary thing," Ptonomy agrees. "But you're learning to recognize it. As you recognize it, you'll learn to refuse that behavior, to say no. And you have us to help you. You're not doing this alone."

David nods. He's not doing this alone.

"Is that what's scaring you about talking to Syd?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods again.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "How about we give Syd a chance to respond to that?"

David looks at Syd. She looks— Not as guarded as she usually is. Vulnerable. Not— David-levels of vulnerable, but—

He realizes Ptonomy is waiting for his permission. "Okay," he says.

"David," Syd starts. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you hurt yourself. I don't want to do those things anymore either. I'm trying to get better and— I hope you'll give me the chance to show you that."

David looks down at his notebook again. He looks at what he wrote about love, about what to do when he doesn't feel loved.

When he woke up in Division 3, when he saw Syd again— He knew there were problems. There were problems from the moment Syd saw him and said 'you left me.' But he just wanted things to be the way they were before. He wanted to be happy with her. But the problems got bigger and bigger, and they couldn't ask for help, and— She kept hurting him. Accusing him, punishing him, thinking terrible things she must have known he could hear. And he just took it, what choice did he have?

He has a choice now. Supposedly. If someone won't stop hurting him, he should reject them.

But Syd's accepting help. She has her notebook, she's trying to get better. She's having sessions with Ptonomy, she's working on her foundation, trying to resolve her trauma. She's as much a patient as he is.

He knows what it's like to be— Stuck in his trauma. He knows how hard it is to change. But here they are, changing. And they've both made mistakes, they've both hurt each other. She said she forgives him. He needs to try to forgive her.

"Okay," David says, still wary but— Lowering his guard.

Syd gives him a little smile for that, and it makes David's chest go tight with— Longing and love and fear and need and hurt and— He feels so much he can't breathe, it's so much.

What he feels for her— It takes him over and he can't control it, he can't protect himself. All from just— A little smile.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts, concerned.

"Um." David realizes he's crying again. “Sorry.” He wipes the tears away but they keep coming.

“It’s okay,” Ptonomy soothes. He nudges the tissue box and David takes it. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s safe to let it out.”

Is it? It doesn’t feel safe. He shakes his head.

“Would it help if Syd stepped away?” Ptonomy asks.

David nods and grabs another tissue.

“Okay,” Ptonomy says. “Syd, could you give us a moment?”

“Sure,” Syd says. She looks at David, hesitates, then picks up her notebook and stands.

“Go wait with Amy,” Ptonomy says. “She’s just where you left her.”

When the door to the stairs closes, a sob bursts out of David’s throat.

“Take your time,” Ptonomy soothes.

David struggles to pull himself back together. How is he going to make any progress if he keeps breaking down? How many different ways is he capable of falling apart? Is he going to go through every single one of them? He's definitely going through all of the tissues.

But the tears finally taper off. David gives a little hiccup as he scrunches all the used tissues together so they don't blow away. They should have brought up some water, he's so thirsty. Maybe it would be better not to have his sessions in the garden. He needs too much infrastructure.

"Better?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods.

"Okay. Let's talk about what just happened."

David wishes they didn't have to. He wishes the relay was on. He wishes a lot of things. But here he is, trying to heal. They have to keep going.

“When you agreed to give Syd another chance,” Ptonomy says. “Why did that upset you?"

"I love her," David starts, then tries again. "I still— That should be a good thing? But—"

"You're afraid," Ptonomy finishes for him. "Okay. I think— This is like the possession trauma. You haven't processed what happened between you two. All those feelings are very raw. And because you still love Syd— You feel like that means you have to be together again, and that's scary for you. Is that right?"

David nods.

"Let's take this one at a time, just like we did before," Ptonomy says. "Syd told you she loves you. You've acknowledged that you love her. But that doesn't mean either of you has to act on those feelings. If you're not ready to be with her, you don't have to be. But I think it would be good to tell her how you feel."

"But if she knows—"

"Then she knows," Ptonomy says. "Nothing will happen without your consent. But bottling up your feelings won't help."

That makes sense. And— He has too many suppressed feelings already, he can’t make more. "Okay."

Ptonomy nods. "Let's take the next one. You need to process what happened between you two. I think it would be good to do some of that with Syd, but— We can also do it without her. How about we do a private session first, then see how you feel?"

"Okay," David says. He has no idea how they'll fit all this in, but at least that's one thing he doesn't have to worry about.

"The last one is the tough one," Ptonomy says. "I need you to tell me exactly what you're afraid of."

David groans.

Ptonomy chuckles. "You've got this. Come on. When you agreed to give her another chance, what did you feel?”

"Like I was giving up control," David admits, and a few more tears straggle out. "What if that's— Part of the re-enactment? What if everything I do is just— What he did to me? I can't remember."

"I wish we could rule that out," Ptonomy says. "But this is like your cocktail memories. There's good and bad mixed together in those re-enactments. Part of your therapy will be to process all that so you can change what you need to change, but also so you can accept what you have."

David sighs. "I really am going to be doing this forever."

Ptonomy smiles again. "You have more work to do than most. But everyone's life is full of change and challenge. We all have to do the work of helping ourselves be the people we want to be. If we don't, we let other people decide that for us. And the person who knows what's best for you— Is you."

David scoffs at that. "I'm the last person who knows that."

"You never had the chance to decide for yourself or even understand yourself," Ptonomy points out. "But you're learning to understand yourself now. The more we put you back together, the more you'll be able to make those decisions, the more you'll trust yourself to make them."

That all sounds staggeringly optimistic to David. But somehow— He can see a glimpse of it from where he is now. A very, very distant speck of daylight at the top of the bottomless pit they're rescuing him from.

"Maybe," David allows.

Ptonomy chuckles. "We've come a long way to get to maybe. How about we keep going? Are you ready to talk to Syd again?"

David nods, and after a minute, Syd comes back out. She looks more cautious than she did before. Not that she was resoundingly confident before David burst into tears. Now that he's calmer, he can see that this is just as hard for her as it is for him. Maybe not the— Amnesia and torture part, but—

He musters a smile for her as she approaches the table, and she relaxes.

"Syd, how are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks.

"I'm okay," Syd says, quietly. "Just worried. David, are you okay?"

"No worse than usual," David admits. "Sorry, I've been— Kind of an ongoing disaster."

"I think you're doing amazing," Syd says.

"Really?" David asks, surprised.

"Really," Syd says. "Therapy's a lot harder when you actually mean it."

That drags a dry laugh out of David. "Ptonomy doesn't pull his punches."

"He doesn't," Syd agrees. "But you're the one doing the work. I know I've been— Giving you a lot of space. I was so afraid for you. And now— You're really getting better."

That means a lot, coming from Syd. He meets her eyes, and— It doesn't change anything about what happened, it doesn't magically clear away all the things he has to work through. But he doesn't feel so afraid anymore.

She loves him. And he loves her. That's— That's okay. They can just— Feel that, without doing anything else.

"Syd," he starts. "I got upset because— I love you. I still— But I'm not ready to be with you, I'm not— Able to do that. And maybe I will be, but— Can we just—"

"Of course," Syd says, and— She seems relieved, too? "I think we both have a lot of work to do. But thank you. For telling me. It means a lot."

He looks into her eyes, and— He can see that she means it. He doesn't need to hear her thoughts to know because she's not hiding how she feels. She's always been so guarded, especially since he came back. It's striking, seeing her— Vulnerable. It makes him want to take care of her.

That’s not how they worked, before. Even before the orb. Syd took care of him, protected him, even once they knew about his powers. He liked that, he liked the way— She made him feel safe. He missed it when he came back and it was gone.

But— That’s part of his re-enactment. With Amy, his brothers— They can’t work that way anymore. He and Syd— If they’re going to be together, they need healthy multiplicity, too. Their relationship needs to be reciprocal and honest. It needs to be okay for them to tell each other things that are upsetting.

"Ptonomy says I need to process our relationship," David says. "Maybe, um— When I'm ready, we can do some of that together?"

"I'd like that," Syd says, giving him another little smile. It makes David's heart hurt, but his feelings don't overwhelm him like before. She's so beautiful, he missed being able to look at her without— Only seeing what went wrong.

She loves him. He loves her. He couldn't let himself feel that for what seemed like forever, it hurt too much. Being able to feel it now— It still hurts, but— It's like getting a piece of himself back.

Like getting Amy and Lenny back. Like starting a new system with his brothers. They have a lot of work to do, but— It's easier when they do it together.

“And maybe you could— Share some of your therapy with me?” David asks. “Not if you don’t want to.”

"I want to," Syd says. "Maybe— You could help me with something now?"

"Um, sure," David says, surprised.

"I made a list." Syd opens her notebook and slides it over. "These are all the things I need to do so I can get better. Everyone's helping me, and I thought— Maybe you could help me with my mantra. It's kinda your thing."

David looks at the list.

Accept help.
Leave my old refuge.
Be open and vulnerable.
Find my motivation.
Build my new foundation.
Create my mantra.
Figure out who I'm supposed to be.
Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them.
Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others.

"Wow, that's— A lot," he says, taken aback.

Syd's amused by that. "David, those are all things you've done, or you're doing. They're how you're getting better. And I want to be better, too, so— I have to do them. I have to accept help."

"'Leave my old refuge?'" David asks. "What's that?"

"Cary came up with the name," Syd says. "But it's— Leaving behind our old coping mechanisms. The ones that make us hurt ourselves. Self-punishment, isolation—"

"Traumatic re-enactment," David says. "That's, um, what Ptonomy calls it. When we try to— Relive our trauma."

"Yeah," Syd agrees. "The next one— I know for you, being open and vulnerable— It's not as difficult as it is for me."

Opening up been anything but easy for him. He struggles with it all the time. "You don't need to have people reading your mind so you can get better," David points out.

"Opening up can be difficult for everyone," Ptonomy says, gently intervening. "What's important is that we all keep trying. May I see?” At Syd’s nod David slides over the notebook. "This is very impressive work, Syd."

"I want to get better," she says, looking at David, and—

Her eyes fill with need, so much it reminds him of Dvd, of the pressure to— Surrender himself, to let Syd or Dvd define their relationship and him along with it.

He can't do that anymore. He can't just be what everyone else wants him to be. He has to be his own David. He has to have boundaries. He has to say no to things that make him uncomfortable.

But he can't say no to Syd. He can't— Push her away when that's all he's been doing. He loves her. She loves him. She just said how hard it is for her to open up, to show her feelings, and he can't— Reject her for showing her feelings. He can't hurt her, he's already hurt her so much. If she needs him— Of course he should take her back, of course he should—

No, he has to—

He looks at his notebook. He has the right to say no. And Ptonomy said— If he's uncomfortable, he should step back and ask for help. But he's not even sure what he's asking for help with. Being looked at? Being loved? All of this would be so much easier if the relay was on.

He doesn't want to go back to the way they were. Syd doesn't want that either. Their relationship has to be— Like Amy, like his system. Reciprocal. Not just them taking care of him because he's broken. And if Syd has developmental trauma, too— Then they match. They're equals. So he should— Try to take care of her.

That's— He can do that. He wants to.

"Um, you said you wanted help with your mantra?" he asks, looking up again, and feels like he just pulled himself back from the edge of a cliff. Disoriented, but— Relieved and vaguely triumphant.

While he was struggling with his thoughts, the intensity in Syd's eyes faded into worry. But she quickly collects herself. "Yeah," she says. "Um, to help me keep going when it feels difficult. So I can accept help, open up, and trust. Ptonomy said it should be something reassuring, like yours."

"I've got two now," David admits. "I'm not doing this alone. That's the new one." He gives Ptonomy a self-effacing glance.

"Syd," Ptonomy says. "Why don't you try saying David's mantra, see how it makes you feel? David, can you show Syd your mantra?"

"Um, okay." David opens his notebook to his last round of foundation work and slides it over. He watches as she reads it and tries not to feel nervous. That's basically his entire new self, the little he's been able to cobble together. It's all he has but he knows it isn't much. His life on half a page. He doesn't even have a list like Syd does, for all his therapy goals. He just does whatever they tell him, if he can even manage that much. What was it that Syd's book said about DID identities like him? Syd has his notebook, he can't flip back to check. But passive was definitely in there. Depressed, guilty. What was the other one? He can't remember. He didn't want to think about that. How could he ever help her? He's just a dissociative mess, nothing in his notebook could possibly be relevant to Syd.

Syd finally looks up. "David, would it be okay if I copy some of this? I think it would be helpful for me."

Oh. Okay, maybe there's something she found a tiny bit useful. They're all other people's ideas anyway. It makes sense that she'd— Want something from Cary or— He looks to Ptonomy, uncertain, and Ptonomy nods. "Um, sure," David says, looking back to her. "What do you, um—"

Syd looks over the page, then back up at him. "Actually— All of it? And I think— Ptonomy— I think you were wrong. My mantra doesn't need to be reassuring. What works for David doesn't work for me."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So what will help you keep going?"

Syd looks at both notebooks, visibly thinking.

"Survival," she answers. "David is love, but— I'm survival. That's what will keep me going. It always has. But before— I thought I had to survive on my own. That idea was wrong." She meets David's eyes. "I can survive better with the people I care about. I can learn to be with them. I can protect them and they can protect me."

Reciprocal. David feels better, hearing Syd say that. He wants to be able to help her, to help all the people he loves. That's all he's ever wanted. It's also the one thing he could never do, because he was sick, he was crazy, he had a monster in his head making sure he'd never be healthy enough to help anyone, not even himself.

But the monster is out. Not gone, not yet, but— His mind is his own. His system's mind, their body— It's their own. And he's getting better.

"Our foundations are about who we are, right?" Syd asks him. "And our mantras are what keep us going?"

"Basically," David says. "It could be whatever you want, but— That's what works for me."

Syd thinks about that, and then— "I am survival," she says, writing in her notebook. "Love helps me survive. I can accept help. I can give and receive love."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, pleased. "And your mantra? What works for that?"

"Not reassurance," Syd says. "Lessons. I need to teach myself to be who I want to be, right? So—" She writes again. "Love makes me strong. Pain makes me weak. Trust my friends, not my enemies."

David considers all of that. "I guess— My mantras are lessons, too," he realizes. More reassuring lessons, certainly. But they're— How he's been teaching himself to be the kind of person he wants to be. To stay alive, free himself from his shame, accept his wounds— To have compassion for himself. "Syd, after you're done, could I— Copy your list? I think— It would be helpful for me."

He gives her a shy smile and she smiles back. He's not sure he can survive having her smiles back, but he's not sure how he survived without them.

Chapter 84: Day 11: It’s like a single firework exploding in her heart. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"You'll be okay," Amy assures Syd, as they stand at the base of the steps to the roof. They're waiting together while David does his foundation work between sessions.

Syd runs through her own foundation. She can accept help. Life is war and we have to survive. She is loved.

It doesn't feel like enough. It isn't enough. David didn't build his foundation overnight, but he accepted anything that helped him. She needs to start building hers the same way. But David is used to accepting help. She isn't, even though she's accepted that she needs it.

She did write something new in her notebook before they got the signal to head up. She made a list of everything she has to do to get better.

Accept help.
Leave my old refuge.
Be open and vulnerable.
Find my motivation.
Build my new foundation.
Create my mantra.
Figure out who I'm supposed to be.
Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them.
Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others.

She can see now why David took a lot of ideas from Cary when he was just starting, and why his system looks to Cary and Kerry as a model. Cary isn't a therapist but he's one of Oliver and Melanie's oldest patients as well as their friend. He's been living the work they started with him for decades. He has a lot of hard-earned wisdom and he wants to share it. Syd's always respected Cary's technical skills, but now—

It's funny. Ptonomy used to be the memory guy, but it turned out being the memory guy only held him back. Maybe being the lab guy holds Cary back from his own potential. Kerry's just as busy redefining herself as David is. And Amy and Lenny— Both of them have gone through so much, but instead of drowning in their pain, they're using it as motivation: to save David, to stop Farouk, to save the world.

And here Syd is, lagging behind all of them.

Well, maybe she's not entirely at the back of the line. Oliver might have finally slept, but he's still in bad shape. She's missed a lot of Dvd and Divad's progress, but while Dvd seems to be making strides, it’s obvious that Divad has a long way to go.

It's therapy, not a race. But knowing some part of David is struggling as much as she is— It helps her feel less alone.

"David's almost ready," Amy says, pulling Syd from her thoughts. "Ptonomy says to come outside but wait for him to wave you over."

Syd looks up at the door at the top of the stairs. She looks back at Amy.

"Um, could we—" Syd starts, and falteringly lifts her arms. She's entirely unused to asking for touch, but now that she can have it— She feels like a junkie all over again, craving another hit, just like she did with David.

Thankfully, Amy is a generous dealer with an endless supply of free hugs. She holds Syd against her body and Syd soaks up her touch like a sponge. When Amy holds her like this, it doesn't just ease the hunger in her skin. It helps fill the vast, empty ache in her chest.

"Better?" Amy asks, when Syd pulls away.

Syd manages a small smile. "Thanks," she says, shyly. If she didn't know that touch helped Amy as much as her and David, Syd would feel utterly selfish. But hugging Amy helps her fight her detachment syndrome. So it's good for all of them, at least for now. Syd should get her fill while she can.

Syd adjusts her grip on her notebook and heads up to the roof. David and Ptonomy are sitting at the table together. David has his notebook open but his eyes are closed in concentration. Syd watches him. She's always liked watching him, especially when touch was nothing but a fantasy for them. His expressiveness, not just in his face but his whole body— She started drawing him so she could capture it, understand it better. The way he can hold himself loose and easy, or pull into himself with anxiety or fear— Or sometimes calm. So many times she watched him sitting with his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes closed as he lost himself in daydreams. He would go away into his own little world, and usually she would coax him back out again. But more than anything she wanted to follow him, to share his dreams with him. To be the palm tree on his island.

That desire became real. She could have it back again. She could have everything she had with David back again. Now that she knows there's a chance— It's hard not to feel desperate for another hit.

David opens his eyes and looks up from his notebook. Ptonomy turns to Syd and waves her over.

There are three separate benches around the circular table. Syd takes the empty one, giving David plenty of personal space. No matter how much she wants to be with him, she has to be careful. Pushing David has only forced him further away.

Syd sets her notebook in front of her. David looks at it with some kind of longing, but he doesn't say anything.

"Syd, David," Ptonomy says. "How about each of you says how you're feeling right now, and where you are in your therapy. Syd, would you like to start?"

"Okay," Syd says. She meets David's eyes. "Right now I'm feeling— Vulnerable. And it's hard, feeling this way. But I have to— Open myself up. To my friends, to other ways of being than— What I was taught. I don't want to be how I was."

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "David, it's your turn."

David takes a steadying breath and looks down at his notebook. "I feel vulnerable, too. But I guess that's— Usually how I feel, so—" He's struggling. "I'm trying to be healthy, to not— Punish myself or let other people punish me. And that's— That probably shouldn't be so hard. But it is and I'm— Afraid. Because I don't even know when I'm doing it."

He's so vulnerable, so emotionally raw. He makes Syd feel so many things, the same way he always has. She thinks of how it felt to sit with him by the lake in Summerland and promise she'd protect him. She wanted to always keep that promise.

"That's a scary thing," Ptonomy agrees. "But you're learning to recognize it. As you recognize it, you'll learn to refuse that behavior, to say no. And you have us to help you. You're not doing this alone."

David nods.

"Is that what's scaring you about talking to Syd?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods again.

The warm glow of her memory cuts out like it's been splashed with ice water.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "How about we give Syd a chance to respond to that?"

They both turn to look at her. David meets her eyes again, looks into them like he's searching for something. Syd resists the urge to pull back into her shell. If she goes into that refuge—

Genuine vulnerability. She knows what genuine vulnerability looks like. It looks like David. So she just has to be like David.

Easier said than done. But she’s trying and apparently it's enough.

"Okay," David says.

This is Syd's chance to start them off right. She can't afford to waste it. She needs to let him know that he doesn't have to be afraid of her anymore. She needs to show him that she's doing the work, that she's putting everything she has into getting better, just like he is.

"David," she starts. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I made you hurt yourself. I don't want to do those things anymore either. I'm trying to get better and— I hope you'll give me the chance to show you that."

David listens, then he looks down at his notebook again. Syd holds her breath, waiting as she watches him process. She sees flashes of all kinds of emotions, like she has before when she's tried to reconnect with him, and then—

"Okay," David says, wary but— Hopeful?

She can work with hopeful. She definitely can. She gives a little smile, deeply relieved, and then—

Tears start pouring from David's eyes. Oh god. Her heart sinks again.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts, concerned.

"Um." David belatedly realizes he's crying. “Sorry.” He wipes the tears away but they keep coming.

“It’s okay,” Ptonomy soothes. He nudges the tissue box and David takes it. “Whatever you’re feeling, it’s safe to let it out.”

He shakes his head, refusing.

“Would it help if Syd stepped away?” Ptonomy asks.

David nods and grabs another tissue.

“Okay,” Ptonomy says. “Syd, could you give us a moment?”

“Sure,” Syd says, but inside she's dying. She knows David's delicate right now, Ptonomy warned her that he had a shame attack just before breakfast, but if they can't even have a conversation without him falling apart—

She has to trust that Ptonomy can handle this. That's the only hope she has. She picks up her notebook and stands.

“Go wait with Amy,” Ptonomy says, calmly. “She’s just where you left her.”

As the door closes behind her, she hears David sob. It's all she can do not to break into tears herself.

She just wanted to protect him. But she broke her promise, over and over. And her fucking future self— She doesn't know which version of herself she's angrier with. Maybe David was right to be confused. Maybe there's no difference between the two Syds at all.

"Syd?" Amy calls.

Syd pulls herself back together and gets to the bottom of the stairs.

"I saw," Amy says, and holds out her arms again.

Syd doesn't have it in her to even try to refuse.

"I just want him back," she whispers, feeling Amy's arms around her back, Amy's hair against her cheek.

"I know," Amy murmurs.

When Syd pulls back, Amy sits down on a step and gestures for Syd to sit beside her. Syd does, and Amy puts her arm around Syd’s back. It helps.

“You can see what’s happening,” Syd says, glumly. “Does he hate me?”

“Of course not,” Amy says, with gentle amusement. “He’s just— Tangled up. Ptonomy’s helping him untangle. Maybe— You can tell your friend how you’re feeling?”

Amy’s her friend. Syd asked for that and Amy agreed. That should mean— It’s safe to tell Amy things, even about David. Amy understands what it’s like to be the one who makes David cry.

“Yeah, um.” Syd sniffs and brushes back her hair. “I feel like a monster,” she admits.

Amy looks at her with understanding. “Did David ever tell you about the day I took him to Clockworks?”

Syd shakes her head. She knows David attacked Doctor Poole, she knows he tried to kill himself. But he never talked about the day he was committed.

“He didn’t want to go,” Amy says, and there’s a quiet, old pain in her voice, in her eyes. “I promised him it would only be a few weeks. I felt like a monster, lying to him like that. And every time I visited him and he asked if he could come home, I’d lie to him again. I’d smile for him because I didn’t want him to feel sad and— I’d get to the car and then I’d cry, feeling like a monster. And while I was feeling sorry for myself, David was being— People were hurting him. And it would have been so much worse if he didn’t have his brothers.” She pauses before continuing. “I’ve thought a lot about those visits. I want to talk to David about them, but— I’m still afraid of hurting him. And we have so little time left.” She sniffs and wipes at her eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to let all that out.”

Syd takes that in. “How much time?”

“We don’t know, but— Days. A week, maybe two before—“

“What about the backup?” Syd asks.

“Our minds can be backed up, our memories, but— Not our souls,” Amy says. “There’s a lot we can’t tell David because we need him to stay focused on his recovery. That has to be the priority. But you need to understand how serious this is.”

“And Ptonomy and Lenny?” Syd asks.

Amy nods. “These androids help a lot, but without our bodies to return to—“

“And I’m part of David’s recovery,” Syd says.

“If something happens to the mainframe or our minds drift— The Davids won’t have us. They’ll have you, Oliver, Cary, and Kerry. Kerry has been so good for them, and Cary and Oliver will do everything they can, but— Love is how David survives. And as strong as David’s love is for me and Lenny, it’s strongest for you.”

“David looked at me and broke into tears,” Syd points out.

“Because he feels so much for you it overwhelms him,” Amy says. “He cries out of love. We both need to accept his tears for what they are. Not a rejection, but— The opposite. We need to love his pain as much as his joy. Not like Farouk, but— If we accept David’s sadness and grief as part of his love— Maybe we can both stop being afraid.”

Syd stares at Amy. “You’re kind of amazing.”

Amy laughs. “Being disembodied gives me a lot of time to think. And a clear head, at least for now. I’ve always let my fear control me. I don’t want to do that anymore. I think you feel the same way.”

“Yeah,” Syd admits. “Easier said than done, but— It’s about trying, right? So we just have to keep trying.”

“That’s all we can do,” Amy agrees. “You know, when Ptonomy brought me into the mainframe, he said: If we all work together, we can win. But we have to help David the way he should have been helped from the start. And sometimes that means hurting him. Making him process his trauma— He’s suffered so much. But that pain has helped him heal. So we shouldn’t be afraid of our own pain either.”

“You don’t ask for much,” Syd says.

“No one ever said saving the world was easy,” Amy replies. “But I want to live, just like Lenny does. I want my family and friends to be happy and safe. That’s enough for me. I hope it’s enough for you.”

Syd’s still thinking about all of that when Amy says that David is ready for her again. Syd and Amy hug again before she goes up, like before, but this time it feels like it’s truly for both of them.

Pain and grief and sadness as— Part of love, part of healing. And Amy’s story about Clockworks—

Syd’s only just come to accept that what her mother did to her was abuse. It’s hard to accept that pain can be a good thing when she’s trying to teach herself that pain can’t be her refuge. But yet again, she only has to look at David. He cried out his feelings, talked them through with Ptonomy, and now—

As she approaches the table, he smiles for her. And the tight, fearful clench around Syd’s heart relaxes.

She can do this. She sits down, feeling calm.

"Syd, how are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks.

"I'm okay," Syd says, and it’s true. "Just worried. David, are you okay?"

"No worse than usual," David admits. "Sorry, I've been— Kind of an ongoing disaster."

"I think you're doing amazing," Syd says.

"Really?" David asks, surprised.

"Really," Syd says. "Therapy's a lot harder when you actually mean it."

That drags a dry laugh out of David. "Ptonomy doesn't pull his punches."

"He doesn't," Syd agrees. "But you're the one doing the work. I know I've been— Giving you a lot of space. I was so afraid for you. And now— You're really getting better."

He really is getting better. She once thought he couldn’t be saved, but they’re helping him save himself.

David meets her eyes and doesn't look away. The fear fades and it's like the clouds parting for the sun, seeing the love shine in him.

She doesn’t know what Ptonomy said to David, but damn if being the memory guy wasn’t holding him back. She wonders what she could be, if she gives herself the chance.

"Syd," David starts. "I got upset because— I love you. I still—”

He loves her. It’s like a single firework exploding in her heart, shocking and beautiful and brief.

David continues. “But I'm not ready to be with you, I'm not— Able to do that. And maybe I will be, but— Can we just—"

"Of course," Syd says, and honestly that’s what she needs, too. As much as she wants him, they have to do this right. "I think we both have a lot of work to do. But thank you. For telling me. It means a lot."

He looks into her eyes again, seeking something. Knowing that he loves her, hearing him say it, seeing that love in him— It's easier for her to stay out of her shell. Being known is still terrifying, but— She wants him to know her. She always did, but she let her fear control her, force her back into her refuge.

"Ptonomy says I need to process our relationship," David says. "Maybe, um— When I'm ready, we can do some of that together?"

"I'd like that," Syd says, giving him another little smile. When she does, she can see how it affects him. He's wide open, and there's pain and fear but so much love. She knows how it feels to have all that love, and getting it back even this much—

“And maybe you could— Share some of your therapy with me?” David asks. “Not if you don’t want to.”

David's love made her feel safe when nothing was safe. It still does. Of course she can talk to him.

"I want to," Syd says. "Maybe— You could help me with something now?"

"Um, sure," David says, surprised.

"I made a list." Syd opens her notebook and slides it over. "These are all the things I need to do so I can get better. Everyone's helping me, and I thought— Maybe you could help me with my mantra. It's kinda your thing."

David reads the list. "Wow, that's— A lot," he says, taken aback.

Syd's fondly amused. He's still so terrible at seeing himself. "David, those are all things you've done, or you're doing. They're how you're getting better. And I want to be better, too, so— I have to do them. I have to accept help."

"'Leave my old refuge?'" David asks. "What's that?"

"Cary came up with the name," Syd says. "But it's— Leaving behind our old coping mechanisms. The ones that make us hurt ourselves. Self-punishment, isolation—"

"Traumatic re-enactment," David says. "That's, um, what Ptonomy calls it. When we try to— Relive our trauma."

"Yeah," Syd agrees, and makes a mental note to look up traumatic re-enactment later. "The next one— I know for you, being open and vulnerable— It's not as difficult as it is for me."

"You don't need to have people reading your mind so you can get better," David points out.

"Opening up can be difficult for everyone," Ptonomy says, gently intervening. "What's important is that we all keep trying. May I see?” At Syd’s nod David slides over the notebook. "This is very impressive work, Syd."

"I want to get better," she says, looking at David. Letting him see how she feels, letting herself feel how much she needs him. She forgot how powerful that need is, how addictive. She was always fighting it, trying to stay in control of herself, trying to deny the hold it had over her. Losing it and getting it back— It's almost too much for her.

It's definitely too much for David. He breaks away, looking at his notebook instead. He struggles with something, and for a moment Syd’s worried he's going to have another breakdown. But he calms and looks up. "Um, you said you wanted help with your mantra?"

Whatever just happened, Syd's just relieved he didn't break into tears. "Yeah," she says. "Um, to help me keep going when it feels difficult. So I can accept help, open up, and trust. Ptonomy said it should be something reassuring, like yours."

"I've got two now," David tells her. "I'm not doing this alone. That's the new one." He glances at Ptonomy.

"Syd," Ptonomy says, turning to her. "Why don't you try saying David's mantra, see how it makes you feel? David, can you show Syd your mantra?"

"Um, okay." David opens his notebook and slides it over.

There's more than just David's mantras on the page. There's his foundation, his wish list, and now a section about love and— Boundaries? Ptonomy really isn't wasting any time. But after what Amy said about how little time they have— He must be trying to cram as many healthy ideas into David as he can before—

God, they really might—

It hits her, finally, how important this is, what they're doing. Why they have to push so hard. Focusing on herself, her problems, her past— She lost sight of the big picture. David already has more than enough motivation, and he's pushing as hard as he can, even too hard. What he needs to heal is— As much love and safety as they can give him. They can't lie to him, not with Farouk around, looking for lies to exploit. So everyone's been telling him as much of the truth as they can, but softening it because he can only take so much. And because she isolated herself in the refuge of her pain, she got the same softened truths he did.

It stopped feeling real, the danger they're in. In creating an environment tailored to David, in making him feel safe enough to heal, they made her feel too safe. The things that pushed her to move forward— Anger, threats, danger—

She's been looking for motivation but it's in her foundation already. She has to survive— They all have to survive. And surviving means getting better so she can protect David and— Her friends. Her potential family. Farouk's been keeping his distance, but he hasn't just been watching them. He's been attacking David, trying to get back inside him, torturing him with nightmares— But Divad and Dvd are the ones stopping all of that. What did David call it, the invisible war? That war has been raging right in front of her, but she couldn't see it so it wasn't real to her.

Feeling David's love again, accepting touch and friendship and help— All the things she's finally accepting that she needs— She'll lose them all to Farouk if she doesn't get better.

"David, would it be okay if I copy some of this?" she asks. "I think it would be helpful for me."

David looks to Ptonomy, uncertain, but Ptonomy nods. "Um, sure," David says, looking back to her. "What do you, um—"

Syd looks over the page, all that condensed wisdom poured into David from everyone trying to help him. "Actually— All of it? And I think— Ptonomy— I think you were wrong. My mantra doesn't need to be reassuring. What works for David doesn't work for me."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So what will help you keep going?"

Syd looks at both notebooks and thinks about that. She needs to feel loved, she needs touch and friendship, she needs David. David is her motivation, she feels that again. But so are Amy and Ptonomy and all her friends. She doesn't want to be alone, she doesn't want to hide in her pain, she doesn't want to lose the good things she's only just realizing she has.

"Survival," she answers. "David is love, but— I'm survival. That's what will keep me going. It always has. But before— I thought I had to survive on my own. That idea was wrong." She meets David's eyes. "I can survive better with the people I care about. I can learn to be with them. I can protect them and they can protect me."

She looks over her foundation again. She can accept help. Life is war and we have to survive. She is loved. The words haven't changed but those ideas have a deeper meaning to her now.

"Our foundations are about who we are, right?" Syd asks David. "And our mantras are what keep us going?"

"Basically," David says. "It could be whatever you want, but— That's what works for me."

That's what works for David. What works for her?

Survival. But not her old survival.

"I am survival," Syd writes in her notebook. "Love helps me survive. I can accept help. I can give and receive love."

Yes. That feels better.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, pleased. "And your mantra? What works for that?"

"Not reassurance," Syd says. She thinks back over the past days, about the lessons she was trying to teach herself in her loop. She needs to teach herself new lessons.

"Lessons," she decides. "I need to teach myself to be who I want to be, right? So—" She moves to the next line on the page. "Love makes me strong. Pain makes me weak. Trust my friends, not my enemies."

That feels right. Everything she needs to do, all that openness and acceptance and compassion— If it helps her love and be loved, it will make her strong. If it's about self-punishment, re-enactment, it will make her weak, vulnerable to Farouk's exploitation. And most importantly, she has to trust her friends, not her enemies. She has to stop accepting the monster's truths as her own.

Her words have a visible impact on David. "I guess— My mantras are lessons, too," he realizes. "Syd, after you're done, could I— Copy your list? I think— It would be helpful for me."

He gives her a shy smile and she smiles back. She's not sure she can survive having his smiles back, but she's not sure how she survived without them.

Chapter 85: Day 11: A sufficiently therapeutic prosthetic. (Cary, Lenny)

Chapter Text

Last night when they went to bed, Cary hoped that he would wake up after a good night's sleep and the longing ache in his chest would be gone. But this morning, like every morning since the last time he separated from Kerry, the ache is stronger.

He knows the ache is stronger in Kerry, too. When the relay went off yesterday— She did her best to resist, but losing the feeling of having the Davids inside her only made her need Cary more.

Cary can't neglect Oliver's treatment, not again. And Oliver needs time to work on himself without relaying for David. He needs time to let his mind and soul and body heal back together. But as long as Kerry has the Davids inside her, she doesn't need Cary inside her.

Or at least they’re— A sufficiently therapeutic prosthetic. Like the artificial bodies keeping Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy's minds from drifting.

Cary looks away from Oliver's test results and sighs. He knows he has to talk to Kerry, he knows that. He can't be a bad example for the Davids. He and Kerry need to be whole like Oliver needs to be whole like the Davids need to be whole. He knows all of that.

But here he is, trying to ignore all of it anyway.

It's a rare moment of calm in the lab, with Ptonomy and Amy helping Syd and the Davids up on the roof. Cary finished Oliver's tests first thing after waking him up. It's too soon to say if there's any definite improvements. One night of unified sleep can't undo twenty-two years of detachment and sleep deprivation, but Oliver's recollection of Melanie over breakfast is a promising sign.

Kerry is giving Oliver his physical therapy up in the loft. And Lenny, surprisingly, is sitting on a beanbag chair. It's not the chair that's surprising. Yesterday, Lenny stuck to David like glue, determined to guide him through a long and intense day of therapy for his whole system. Perhaps she feels bad for how the day ended. But they could hardly have predicted that fixing David's lamp would make him realize exactly how Farouk manipulates him and send him into another panic attack. What's important is that they all worked together to keep him from going away. David passing out afterward— If that was anyone's fault, it was Cary's.

They all have to watch out for each other and take care of each other. That's the only way they're all going to make it through this. Lenny has been quite forceful about not wanting help from anyone, but she has at least cooperated with the tests to track her mental state and its gradual deterioration. The tests were run overnight by Division 3's research team, and Cary pulls up the latest results.

Ptonomy and Amy are still doing well. Amy's doing much better than expected. They were worried that she would be the first to go, having been disembodied the longest, but she's had the most touch therapy of the three of them. The Davids are deeply tactile, and now Syd needs extensive touch therapy herself. Ptonomy has also made the effort to touch more, hugging Amy and Cary and Kerry, sharing touch with Syd. Cary's even found himself hugging Oliver quite often, just in case that will help him— And because Oliver is his friend and Cary's so glad to have him back.

But Lenny is not a hugger. Since getting her android body, she's shown significant discomfort with being touched by anyone, with verbal and physical refusals despite the fact that human touch is one of the best treatments for her condition. She only accepted one hug from David yesterday morning, and even that was clearly difficult for her.

Cary might have missed the signs when Oliver first started to become detached. He might have failed Oliver again on his return, failed Melanie. But he's been a diagnostician for decades. Identifying symptoms is part of his job. And the way Lenny is sitting, staring at nothing— She might as well have left her android and gone back into the mainframe, for all that she's present.

Yesterday must have taken a lot out of her. Last night's tests showed significant declines in concentration and attention. She seemed fine over breakfast, but thinking back, she was quieter than usual, only engaging when it meant helping David and Syd. If she was in a living body, that could be excused by tiredness, solved by sleep and rest. But android bodies don't get tired. Disembodied minds can't sleep and can only rest in shallow ways.

She's struggling, just like Oliver struggled all those years ago. Cary can't go back and tell himself what was wrong, can't save himself and Oliver and Melanie from all that heartache. But he can use what he knows now to help Lenny. The problem, as it always is, is how to get her to allow herself to be helped.

Cary pulls up Lenny's file, compiled by Ptonomy with the mainframe's resources. It's clear that Lenny has endured an enormous amount of trauma, perhaps not developmental but certainly complex. To start, there's her true history of substance abuse, prostitution, and violence. All of that would be bad enough on its own. But she was, as David put it, made into a cocktail of Lenny and Benny, and then suffered a year of disembodiment with Farouk as her primary host. So she also has, to some degree, trauma from being Benny. She has trauma from the things Farouk did while he was using her as a mask. She has whatever influence remains from Farouk's mind and possibly even some from Oliver and David. That she's as functional as she is is a testament to her resilience and her need to survive.

Despite their differences, she reminds Cary very much of Syd. Emotional suppression for the sake of solitary survival. A thick, protective layer of anger around her heart, and then a cool, cynical exterior. Even their touch issues are similar, if for different reasons. Given what they know now about Clockworks and what Lenny endured there, what she endured even before that—

Cary isn't a therapist. He does his best to share what wisdom he's gained from his own struggles, but he doesn't have the training or experience that Melanie or Oliver had, that Ptonomy has. Sexual assault isn't something he's ever really dealt with, despite what happened to Kerry last year with Walter, despite what happened with David and Syd.

Sex isn't something Cary's thought of much at all, despite not having the embodiment issues that Kerry has. He's simply never felt that kind of desire for anyone of any gender, and with the complications of his life, he always felt that was for the best. Kerry is the love of his life. Few would be able to accept second place in his heart, and the alternative, of setting Kerry aside for someone else— That's simply unimaginable, if not impossible.

They're two minds in one body, two halves of a whole. And yet here they are pretending to be two separate people when that's never what they've been.

Cary turns his attention back to Lenny's file. Despite Lenny's refusal of treatment, Ptonomy suggested, along with the obvious diagnosis of complex trauma, a secondary diagnosis of trauma-induced haphephobia. Sexual trauma, physical and mental trauma. In the recording from her cell, Lenny said Farouk raped her over and over. Perhaps that was metaphorical and not literal, but in the end it doesn't truly matter. She was a captive mind, used and abused purely on Farouk's malignant whim. David's situation was the same. The things Farouk did to them have very little to do with conventional desire. The things the orderlies did to them, and whatever violence Lenny met on the streets—

Cary knows his limits. He's no better suited to helping Lenny with all of this than he is to helping David with his possession trauma and everything that's tangled up with it. That's Ptonomy's territory and Lenny has to want to do the work. She's quite clearly not ready for that, but they still have to keep her from drifting away. So what Lenny needs, if she's unable to accept human touch, is— A sufficiently therapeutic prosthetic.

And luckily enough, they already have one right here.

§

"Mind if I join you?"

Lenny looks up to see Cary. He has Syd's cat in his arms. Lenny can't remember its name. She doesn't like Syd and she sure as hell never liked cats. She doesn't have much of an opinion about Cary, except that he's usually attached at the hip to Kerry or Oliver.

"Yeah, whatever," Lenny shrugs. He can sit wherever he wants to sit. It's his lab.

Cary sits, perching at the edge of the loveseat next to her. He pets the cat. "Have you ever had any pets?" he asks.

Lenny starts to answer, but then she has to think about it. She remembers a lot of things. "Benny had a dog. Treated it like shit, surprise surprise."

"But not Lenny?" Cary asks. "Perhaps a cat?"

"Wrong kind of pussy," Lenny says, dismissive. She gives the cat a wary look. "Why'd you ask?"

"I was looking at the results from last night," Cary says, clearly reluctant to break bad news. "Your condition is deteriorating faster than we hoped. Last night and today, you've been having trouble with your concentration and attention. Have you noticed?"

Lenny wants to say of course she noticed. But— Shit, she's supposed to be helping David. "Where's David?"

"He's in the garden with Ptonomy and Syd," Cary says, growing even more concerned. "Don't you remember?"

"Right, yeah," Lenny says. Now she remembers. David, Syd, breakfast, couples therapy, got it. "Just needed a reminder. I gotta go up there, David's probably freaking out." She moves to haul herself out of the beanbag chair, but Cary reaches out and stops her. When his hand touches her arm, she flinches back. "Back the fuck off," she warns.

"My apologies," Cary says, pulling back. "But you're in no condition to help David right now. Your mind is drifting."

"Don't tell me what I can't do," Lenny says, irritated. Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

"Lenny," Cary says, concerned. "Please. How will David feel if he sees you like this? You need treatment."

"I'm doing your stupid treatment," Lenny replies. She jumped through their hoops all night, for all the good it did her.

"Only some of it," Cary says, and now he's getting all doctory. She knows the type well, they always think they know best. Bunch of pricks. "Sensory stimulation isn't enough. You need human touch."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Lenny says. "Aesthetically accurate my ass. Division 3's a bunch of prudes. The geeks that built this thing probably couldn't find a clit with both hands." She rubs where her cunt would be if this android body had a cunt, just to make Cary as uncomfortable as possible. David's not around so she doesn't have to play nice.

It mostly works. Cary turns beet-red but he doesn't leave. "Regardless," he says. "Your reluctance to allow yourself to be touched— I understand it's not comfortable for you. I thought perhaps Matilda—"

"I'm fine with touch," Lenny insists. "If you wanna give me some pussy, Kerry's cute."

Oh, now he's pissed. He was pissed off before, when she and Kerry came back from the cafeteria, having a good time. But he's not the yelling type, she can see that. He'll tell Ptonomy and get her in trouble, but what does she care? What is she even doing here?

Right. They won't let her leave. They might be paying her but she's still their prisoner, just like David.

"Lenny," Cary says, making an obvious effort to be patient with her. "We just want to help you."

"Maybe I don't want your fucking help," Lenny sneers.

'What the hell’s going on down there?' Ptonomy's voice comes in over the mainframe. Ha, Cary didn't even get the chance to tell on her. Serves him right.

There's a thump as Kerry jumps down from the loft. Girl's got strong thighs, Lenny'd love to have them wrapped around her head. But Kerry only has eyes for Cary, and when she sees he's upset, she gets upset, too.

"Cary, what's wrong?" Kerry asks, coming over. Oliver's on the stairs, taking the easy way down.

"Lenny's showing symptoms," Cary says, all serious. "She's becoming detached."

"I can help," Kerry offers, brightly.

"I don't think that would be wise," Cary says, but Lenny's already getting to her feet. She's not going to turn down that offer.

Kerry's got a hot bod, slim and soft but all muscle underneath. Lenny holds her tight and Kerry holds her right back, she’s so sweet Lenny could eat her right up. She soaks up the hug like it's vapor. Shit, being disembodied is the worst. She needs a hit and she can't take anything, she needs to get laid but she can't fuck. This is the best she's felt in days. If she could just get off, she'd feel real good.

Well, she can't get off. But she bets Kerry can.

"Mmm, so nice," Lenny moans, rubbing against Kerry, testing the waters. Kerry's a little frigid but nothing she can't warm up. "I could teach you so much, baby."

Kerry tenses but doesn't pull away. "Teach me?" she asks, confused.

"About this," Lenny says, sliding her hands down to grab that tight, muscular ass, and then lower—

Kerry shoves Lenny back so hard she lands on her ass. Lenny looks up to see Kerry's shocked face.

Shit. Shit, what was she doing?

"That's enough," Cary says, getting between them even though Kerry can obviously defend herself. He turns away from Lenny. "Kerry, are you alright?"

"No," Kerry says, upset and confused. "You're not supposed to touch there," she yells at Lenny.

"I'm here," Amy calls, rushing in. "I came as fast as I could." Kerry rushes into Amy's arms and buries her face against her. "Shh, it's all right," Amy soothes.

Cary looks upset that Kerry didn't go to him, then turns on Lenny. "Don't ever do that again," he warns, furious.

"It was an accident," Lenny lies, raising her hands. It wasn't an accident, but— She's not even sure why she did it. She's horny, sure, but Kerry barely handles eating, she doesn't want sex. Lenny doesn't get off on girls who don't want it.

Lenny doesn't. But shit, Benny did.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Lenny says. She gets back to her feet and Kerry looks back at her, tensed warily like she doesn't want to leave Amy's arms but she's ready to kick Lenny's ass if she has to.

"Amy, can you take Kerry to our room?" Cary asks. "I'll take care of things here."

"What about Oliver?" Amy asks.

"I've got Oliver," Cary says. "Just take care of Kerry for me. Please?"

Amy gives him a sympathetic look, then coaxes Kerry to leave the lab with her. Once they're gone, Cary sits back down and gestures to Lenny to do the same. Oliver joins them, though she doesn't know what good he can do when he's still swiss cheese and can't read her mind.

"Feeling more yourself?" Cary asks, unsympathetic but making an effort not to be.

"Uh, yeah," Lenny says, and now she's the confused one. She feels like— She's waking up from something. "What just happened?"

Cary's expression softens. "You've been drifting. Your mind was losing coherence because you refused touch therapy. Ptonomy can't come down, he's busy with Syd and David, so you need to explain what just happened. Now."

"All right, all right," Lenny says, exasperated. "I dunno, I just felt like— I didn't care. And I was— I'm not an asshole, okay? I mean yeah, I'm not a good person, but I'm not like— that. I don't dig that shit. I don't take other people's bodies."

"So why did you do it?" Cary asks.

Lenny hates this. She just wants to roll with what she has, like she told David to do. She doesn't want to deal with the mountain of shit she's been ignoring with all her might. But apparently her mind is falling apart already. She didn't enjoy having her mind dissolve the first time around. She likes it even less now that she knows what's happening to her.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. She knows what this means. She hates it with every fiber of her being, but she knows what this means.

"I got mixed up," she admits. "Too much Benny in my Lenny cocktail. Hey, who'd have thought a manipulative drug dealer would get off on taking advantage of people? Total shocker."

"Is that normally a problem for you?" Cary asks. "Benny's impulses?"

"I dunno, I've only been out of the shit beetle's head for like, a few weeks, and I spent most of that locked up," Lenny defends. "Maybe if you'd left me in my body I'd actually be the real me and not this jumbled mess."

"That wasn't your body," Cary reminds her.

"It was a hell of a lot better than this one," Lenny says, angrily. "I was alive, you know. I was fucking alive and I didn't have to deal with this shit anymore. You assholes murdered me. I'm doing my best to play nice."

"I understand that you're angry," Cary allows. "But this behavior is unacceptable."

"I'm sick," Lenny defends.

"If you're sick, then you need help," Cary replies. "That's how this works."

Lenny growls with frustration. Somehow this is karma for talking Syd into accepting help. She swore she wasn't going to get pulled into this therapy gangbang and now here she is.

But messing with Kerry like that— The more she comes back to herself, the worse she feels. Fucking Benny. Fucking shit beetle. Fuck fuck fuck.

"I didn't ask for this, you know," Lenny tells Cary. "I didn't ask to get my head fucked over. I didn't ask to get murdered by you or Farouk and I sure as hell didn't ask to get turned into a cocktail."

"Neither did David," Cary reminds her. "He doesn't bear the blame for any of the things he did under Farouk's influence. But he does bear the responsibility for doing the work now that he's free. The same goes for you."

"You call this free?" Lenny sneers. "I got a body that can't eat or come or get high, and I can't even take it for a joyride because it's 'property.'"

"And David has a crown that hurts him and limits his powers," Cary counters. "All of us are doing everything we can to save David so we can stop Farouk. You want that too or you wouldn't be helping us. None of us are free until this is over. That was made very clear to you once already. And frankly if it were up to me, you wouldn't get another chance to hurt David or Kerry."

"Thanks," Lenny drawls.

Cary gives her a considering look. Then he gets up, walks away looking for something, and then finds it. He comes back with Matilda.

"You're going to sit with Matilda and you're going to pet her," Cary tells her. "You need touch therapy, not sex. That's what helped you just now. If you want to stay in control of yourself, you will cuddle that cat and then you will do whatever you have to so you can hug people without molesting them. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Lenny mutters. Cary gently shoves Matilda into her arms and Lenny takes her. She never liked cats. The ones in the street were mangy and gross and hissed if she got too close. And Benny? Forget it, Benny would feed a kitten to a rabid dog just for kicks. And Farouk?

She doesn't like to think about what Farouk would do. She feels even sicker wondering if she was thinking his thoughts and not just Benny's. Even with him out of her head—

"David can't know," Lenny insists. They didn't tell him about her other fuckup, they sure as hell can't tell him about this.

"Actually, he has to," Cary says. "He needs to know so he can be part of your therapy, just like you're part of his."

"I'm supposed to be his cruise director," Lenny protests. Lenny wishes she could go back to yesterday. Yesterday was great. She was David's hero all day, and now she's the problem.

"You still can be," Cary says. "Oliver is a patient and he's part of David's therapy. David needs you to help him get better. He won't think any less of you as long as you're trying."

"What, that's all I have to do?" Lenny mocks. "Try?"

"Yes," Cary says, firmly. "We know your history, Lenny. Given what you’ve suffered, this won't be easy for you or us. But the alternatives are all much, much worse."

"All right, all right," Lenny moans. "I'll pet the fucking cat." She pulls Matilda close and pets her, and tries not to feel incredibly annoyed that it helps her feel better. Fucking detachment syndrome. Matilda better not have fleas.

"Oh," Oliver says, suddenly. "If you'll excuse me, I'm needed on the roof."

"Oliver?" Cary asks, concerned.

"Ptonomy says if you have the situation under control, he'd like to wrap up David's foundation work before he brings David and Syd back down. That will require the relay. I could stay here if you like?"

"No, you should go," Cary says. "We'll be fine. Help David."

"Of course," Oliver says. As he walks away, he leans down and gives Matilda a scratch behind her ears. "Such a good kitty." He looks at Lenny with too-knowing eyes. "Be nice," he tells her.

"I'm always nice," Lenny lies. But she keeps petting the cat.

Chapter 86: Day 11: Yeah, that’s why it’s *our body*, dummy. (Syd)

Chapter Text

When their session is done, Ptonomy has David and Syd sit together on a bench and review their notebooks. Syd studies the material she copied from David and her new foundation and mantra, and David looks over the list he copied from Syd.

Accept help.
Leave my old refuge.
Be open and vulnerable.
Find my motivation.
Build my new foundation.
Create my mantra.
Figure out who I'm supposed to be.
Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them.
Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others.

It is a lot, like David first thought. But he's doing all of it, a little at a time. This is how he's getting better. Seeing it all laid out like this helps him realize how far he's come, and also what he still needs to do. But it's Syd's list, not his. He needs to write his own version.

Accept help from the people who love me.
Stop punishing myself.
Learn to recognize what I'm feeling and manage my reactions.

Motivation? What he needs most is— Hope. He needs to believe that he can break this cycle he's been trapped in for so long, that the torture can end. He needs to believe that he's worth the work of ending it, that there's some escape beyond his own death.

Believe I am worth saving, he adds. He does, mostly, sometimes. He doesn't want to die anymore, he wants to live. But he still can't change 'David is love' into an 'I' statement. He accepts that he's loved, but— He doesn't know who David is, beyond what he's been made to be, beyond the countless ways Farouk sculpted him. And that makes him feel helpless and violated and—

He takes a breath. Build my new self, he writes. He has a foundation and a mantra, and they're always evolving but— He needed them in the first place because he lost all sense of who he was. His foundation is the basis for the David he wants to be. I am David. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. David is love.

The next two lines he keeps as they are.

Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them.
Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others.

He doesn't have trouble offering acceptance and compassion, but— He's realizing how limited that's been in practice, how little he's truly engaged with other people in a healthy way. He was so trapped in his trauma, so limited by mental illness and medication and fear and Farouk— Maybe he would already have been passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed just from his DID, but— He doesn't want to be those things. He wants to be able to make choices, good choices. He wants to be able to trust his own judgement, his own mind. He wants to be happy and he doesn't want to be ashamed of just— Existing.

Learn to trust my own mind, he adds, and: Be more than my shame.

A tall order for the shame onion himself, but— He wants it anyway.

Dvd comes over and sits next to him and looks over his shoulder. "Good stuff." He looks at Syd. "Even if it did come from her."

"Must you?" David sighs.

"Hm?" Syd asks, looking up.

"I was talking to Dvd," David says, gesturing at the space beside him he knows is empty to her.

"Oh, okay," Syd says, and looks back down at her notebook.

"I'm just saying," Dvd says, still giving Syd a suspicious look. "Just because she wrote all that doesn't mean she means it. We can't let her crawl back into our head just like that. She hurt you, she tried to kill us."

She's trying to get better, David thinks back. They have to give her the chance. She's doing it for them, Dvd and Divad are doing it for him, he’s doing it for them.

Dvd grumps at him. "It's not the same. We're a system."

Well maybe he wants to have a system with Syd, too, David thinks back. Dvd accepted that before, right?

"That was different," Dvd insists. "You didn't know you had us."

What, and now because he does, he should just shut himself off from everyone else?

"No," Dvd says, but he's obviously not happy about it. "Maybe. I dunno, man. It used to just be us, we didn't need anyone else."

David knows that's a lie, one they must have all told themselves to survive. David needs people, he always has. He needs love and that's in his foundation. He needs Amy and Lenny and Kerry and yeah, he needs Syd. And before Dvd gets mad, he needs Dvd, too.

Dvd sighs. "Fine. But we can't just go trusting everybody. People are dangerous. Amy put us in Clockworks, and you don't even remember all the things she did to us—" He cuts off and glares at Divad, still on the other bench. "I'll tell him if I want."

David looks over at Divad and gives him an annoyed look. He hates it when his brothers talk to each other and he can't hear it. It's bad enough they can hear his thoughts but he can't hear theirs.

"We're protecting you," Divad counters.

Well, don't, David thinks. He's better now, he's healing and— Treating him like he's incapable won't help him get strong, it won't help them reach healthy multiplicity so they can be stable so they can get the crown off. Unless Divad wants them to have to wear this thing forever? Because David really doesn't.

"Yeah, me too," Dvd admits. "It sucks and it hurts. It's the worst part about being back in our body, I hate it."

David and Dvd both look at Divad. Divad doesn't say anything, at least not anything David can hear.

"What, don't you want it off?" David asks.

"Of course I do," Divad says, but it's not very convincing.

"Are you serious?" David asks. "You want this to stay on?" He points at his— Their head. "Why?"

Divad crosses his arms and looks away, refusing to answer.

"What the hell, man," Dvd says, angrily. "What, you can't punish David yourself anymore so you have to find another way to hurt him?"

"I'm not trying to hurt David," Divad protests. "I'm—"

"You're what?" Dvd challenges. "Explain to us how you dragging us down is gonna make things better."

"Look," Divad says, "I'm just— Having a hard time, okay? And why are we even doing this? Farouk's still out there, as soon as we're stable he'll come at us and what's gonna happen? The same thing that always happens, and we'll be back doing this all over again just like before, except it'll be even worse."

"We won’t let that happen," David insists, even though he just had to write down 'believe I'm worth saving' because he can’t hope enough to believe it himself. He's been letting everyone else believe it for him, which honestly helped more than he ever imagined, but—

Developmental trauma. His whole system shares the same trauma. So Divad—

"Do you— Not think you're worth saving?" David asks.

Divad looks away, ashamed.

"Divad," David says, worried for him. "Look, I know— In the past, even— Yesterday—"

"Don't," Divad says, stopping him. "Stop forgiving everyone who hurts you because you think it's okay for us to hurt you."

"That's not—" David starts, but— Is that what he's doing? He's not sure. Is that what he's doing with Syd?

No. No, he didn't— He recognized he wasn't comfortable taking Syd back. He hasn't processed all the things that happened between them, all the ways she hurt him. Ptonomy said they'll have a session for that, and until then they're just— Being therapy buddies. That's all this is. They're helping each other get better because they love each other, because they matter to each other, but they're not—

They're not a system. They love each other but they're not a system.

"Yeah, no shit," Dvd mutters.

But they could be. If they can work things out, forgive each other, build a new foundation together— Be the people they want to be and not— The people they were taught to be—

He wants that. It scares him how much he wants that, the strength of the pull in his heart for Syd. He has to resist it because they're just not ready to give in, not without ending up right back how they were, and that was— Not good. They were a disaster.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dvd grumbles, and David glares at him for that. "I didn't mean you and her," Dvd insists. "I mean you were, but— That's how we feel, how— I feel. About you." He gives David a vulnerable look.

"Oh," David says, realizing. He thinks of the way Syd reminded him of Dvd, and— David's looked at Syd that way, too, like he needs her to keep breathing. He used to feel that way all the time. And if he and Dvd used to feel that way for each other— And Farouk took those memories away—

"I'm sorry," David says, because what else can he say? The memories are gone. Those old feelings, that intense dependence, the intimacy that must have come with it— All of that is gone— But only for him. Dvd remembers everything. And if David imagines Syd forgetting what they had— Her turning on him in the desert didn't just break his heart, it broke all of him. Losing David in college must have been— It must have been the same.

Dvd tears up and he looks away. He wipes at his eyes.

"Dvd," David says, reaching for him even though they can't touch.

"It's okay," Dvd insists, a tremor in his voice. "I mean, it's not, it's really not, but—" He swallows. "You're still you and— I'm still me and— We're making a new system. We're brothers and we'll always be together no matter what, so— It's like Amy said. We'll make new memories, lots of them, and— They'll be a hell of a lot better than the old ones."

Dvd's trying so hard, David can see that. Dvd just wants to be with him again, even if they can't be how they were, even if they shouldn't be how they were. The same way Syd is trying. Because they love each other, they matter to each other. That's what's important, that's what makes it worth doing the work.

"Amy's right about that," David says, offering Dvd a smile. "I know because— This is already a good memory for me." He can feel how much Dvd loves him and it isn't scary, it isn't overwhelming. It doesn't feel like a problem. It just feels like love. David thinks about Dvd being the bulb in his lamp, when they finish rebuilding it, and— That's perfect because Dvd's love shines so brightly.

Dvd wipes his eyes again, but he breaks into a wobbly smile and— It means so much to him, to have David care about him, to have this new love growing between them. It's still a little weird to be— Learning to love himself, but— Compassion for the self, that's— He needs that. And it helps so much to know that— There was a part of himself that never stopped loving him, that never gave up on him no matter how bad things got.

And that thought, unfortunately, sobers him.

"Divad," David says.

"You're right," Divad says, quietly. "I did give up on you, on our system. That's what I did."

"That's what you're doing now," Dvd grumbles.

"You're my brother, too," David says. "We can't leave each other so we have to work things out, just like I did with Amy and just like I'm doing with Dvd and Syd. I know I don't remember what happened between us—"

"I don't want to talk about it," Divad says.

"Ignoring this won't make it go away," David says, exasperated. "I don't know how to resolve— The pain you feel for what you did to me. I can't even forgive you because my forgiveness doesn't mean anything, because whatever happened— It didn't happen to the me I am now."

"Some of it did," Divad admits.

"Okay, yeah, some of it," David allows. "You can be awful sometimes, and when you are you make me feel— Like I always feel but worse. But you help me, too. You're helping me now, giving me the stability I need to get better. That means a lot to me and if you'd just stop— Drowning yourself in regret maybe we could actually—" He trails off, realizing that yes, he has been saying quite a lot of things out loud instead of thinking them, and yes, Syd and Ptonomy have been watching this whole time.

Fuck it. "We could love each other, too," he finishes, defiantly out loud.

Divad gets up and walks away, walks back. "I don't know how to stop hurting you," he admits. "And when I try, when I— Accept what I did to you was wrong— All I want to do is hurt myself. Either way I'm hurting our system."

"If the problems are big, we should get help," David tells him. "You agreed to that. So let's get help. Ptonomy's right here."

"The relay's off," Divad says. "And don't you dare offer to give up your time in our body."

"Actually, the relay's on," Ptonomy says. "I asked Oliver to join us after David and Syd finished so we could have your system session next. But you three got talking and I didn't want to interrupt."

The door to the roof opens and Oliver walks over. Divad glares at him.

"I'm sorry for not warning you," Ptonomy says. "But the relay was coming back on anyway and it was an important conversation, I needed to hear your and Dvd's sides of it. And David's right. This is a big problem, and asking for help is the right way to handle it. Good job."

David perks up at the praise. It might have been a small decision, but it was still a good one and he made it. Chalk one up for learning to trust his own mind, or at least the ideas other people put into it. Wait, is that— Should he actually be— Never mind, he has to focus on Divad right now.

"How about the three of you come back to the table?" Ptonomy says. "Oliver, you can sit with Syd."

"I should stay?" Syd asks.

"If it's all right with the Davids," Ptonomy says. "David, Dvd, Divad— I'd like Syd to stay here with us, if that's all right. She'll only hear David's side of the conversation, like she did just now. Is that okay?"

David looks at Syd.

"I'll leave if you want," Syd offers. "I don't want you to feel uncomfortable."

"No," David sighs. "I mean, I should get used to people hearing me talk to myself. It's not like the whole world doesn't already know I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy," Syd says. "You're just different, David. You're three people instead of one. As long as those three people have— Healthy multiplicity— Then there's nothing wrong with that."

"You mean that?" David asks, surprised at how much her words affect him.

"David, I want to be with you," Syd says, honestly. "That means accepting you as you are. Having DID is part of what makes you you. I want to work things out with Dvd and Divad, just like I'm working them out with you. I hope your brothers will give me the chance to do that."

David looks to Divad and Dvd. Neither of them looks especially thrilled.

"How about Divad and Dvd each have a session with you during their embodiment periods?" Ptonomy suggests. "I'd also like them to talk to Amy."

"Whatever," Dvd sighs.

"I'll take that as a yes," Ptonomy says. "Divad?"

"Fine," Divad says.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, turning back to Syd. "Looks like we're scheduled. And everyone's okay with Syd staying?"

David looks to his brothers. Divad nods and Dvd shrugs. "She can stay," David tells Ptonomy. Syd gives him a little smile, and it makes David's heart twang. It feels good making her happy, just like it feels good making Dvd happy. So he has— Two good memories. Dvd and Syd both— Accepting him as he is, so they can love each other and—

David tears himself away from Syd and goes to the table to join his brothers. Focus, he has to focus so Ptonomy can help his system.

“Everyone seated?” Ptonomy asks. Divad and Dvd both answer yes, which also tells Ptonomy where to look when he talks to them. “I’d like everyone to open their system notebooks to the list of ideas you wrote earlier.

They all comply.

“We’re going to help Divad with how he’s feeling,” Ptonomy says. “But this session is going to be a little different. The three of you are going to talk about all the ideas you shared with each other, and you’re going to use those ideas to make your system’s foundation and any mantras or other tools you feel will help you heal. Is everyone ready for that?”

They all answer yes.

“Very good,” Ptonomy says. “Now, you still have trouble being truthful and open with each other. But your system foundation is too important for anything but complete honesty. You all have to agree on these ideas, even if you aren’t able to believe them yet. You have to commit to them in your hearts for yourselves and each other. So Dvd and Divad, you have two choices for how we proceed: either you lower your mental guards so David can hear your thoughts the way you can hear his, or Oliver will relay your thoughts for you.”

“Excuse me, what?” Divad says, outraged. “Absolutely not. Dvd, tell him, that’s not how we work.”

Dvd makes a reluctant face. “It’s not but— You know what? Kerry’s right. I always say what I think anyway. And— ‘David loves me again and we’re making a new system so it doesn’t matter how we worked.’

Dvd gives David a proud smile, and David smiles back.

‘Ha, suck on that,’ Dvd thinks, triumphant, his smile turning into a smirk as he turns to Divad.

Divad scowls at him.

“Thank you, Dvd,” Ptonomy says. “Divad? It’s your choice. Will you share your thoughts with your brothers, or do they need to be shared for you?”

“Some choice,” Divad grumbles.

“It’s not a judgement if you’re not ready,” Ptonomy says. “Your system has to come first, but we know this is difficult for you. It’s okay to let us help you.”

Divad visibly struggles. Then he shakes his head. “I can’t,” he admits.

“Okay,” Ptonomy says. “Oliver?”

‘—hate this I hate this I hate this,’ Divad thinks. ‘Why did I think trusting these people was a good idea? We’re never going to—‘ His thoughts cut off as he sees David watching him.

Yeah, hi, David thinks.

Divad puts his elbows on the table and hides his face in his hands.

“Boy do I know that feeling,” David sighs. “The agonizing humiliation goes away eventually.” Mostly, anyway.

‘You two crack me up,’ Dvd thinks.

‘I’m going to kill him in his sleep,’ Divad thinks.

“You can’t, we all sleep together,” Dvd says. ‘God last night was amazing. It felt so good.’

David flushes. He didn’t feel anything, but Dvd makes it sound so— Intimate. It’s disturbing but— He can’t deny he’s curious.

“Curious, huh?” Dvd asks, slyly.

David is starting to realize that however his relationship with Dvd used to work, they had absolutely no boundaries. Which— Yeah, they grew up together sharing a body, and if they weren’t projecting or in their bedroom— If they shared most of the time—

“Oh my god,” David groans, and he doesn’t know why it took him so long to realize this, but— They shared everything. He’s so used to seeing them as separate people but they are absolutely not separate people.

Oh god. Syd. They were with him when he and Syd— When he and Philly, when— Oh god, every time he masturbated.

“Or showered or took a shit,” Dvd says. “Yeah, that’s why it’s our body, dummy. We’re not Kerry, we’ve been living it up with that thing since day one. Let me tell you, eating is not what I miss most about being in charge.” He makes a rude gesture with his hand.

David feels faint. How did he not realize this before? Oh god, adolescence, hormones— He has no idea how much of what he remembers is even remotely real, but— There were definitely some embarrassing incidents with Amy—

Oh god, Amy is hearing all of this. It just keeps getting worse. And Farouk— Farouk was there for his entire life. He was there for Benny. He was there for everything.

Okay, now he feels sick and faint. This is— Not good.

“Take it easy,” Ptonomy says. He’s not across the table anymore, he’s holding David’s arm and rubbing his back. “Syd, can you get us some water?”

Syd nods and hurries off.

“David, are you going to pass out?” Ptonomy asks.

David doesn’t think so, but— He doesn’t think staying upright is a thing he can do.

“Let’s get you to a bench.” Ptonomy helps him up, taking his weight easily as David staggers to a bench and collapses onto it. Ptonomy takes off his jacket, folds it, and then tucks it under David’s head as he helps him lie down.

“That was a big realization,” Ptonomy says. “Take it easy.”

‘I knew this was a bad idea,’ Divad thinks.

“Actually this is an important step forward,” Ptonomy replies. “David needs to accept that he’s in a shared body and always has been.”

Dvd leans over the back of the bench. “You’re looking kinda green,” he says, concerned. “Maybe we should get a bucket.”

No. David is not going to let his possession trauma make him throw up again. He breathes slowly and deeply and the nausea eases.

He hears the stair door open and close, and there’s Syd with a water bottle.

“What happened?” Syd asks, handing the bottle to Ptonomy. “David was fine and then he just—“

“He had a realization,” Ptonomy tells her. “About what it means to have shared his body for his entire life.”

“Oh,” Syd says. “Oh!” She grimaces.

“It was a shock,” Ptonomy says. “He’ll be fine, he just needs to let it settle.”

Syd knew. Of course she knew, and she— She still wants to be with him? But that’s— His brothers— That would be—

That’s— Actually kind of amazing. She knew and she accepted it and— She loved him when he was a hopeless schizophrenic and when he was an all-powerful mutant and now— She loves him even though he’s three people in one body.

‘Oh you have got to be kidding,’ Dvd grumbles. ‘Now we’re really stuck with that blonde bitch.’

“Don’t call her that,” David mutters. He grabs the bench and pulls himself up with Ptonomy’s help. He leans heavily on his knees and accepts the opened water bottle. He takes small sips, hoping they’ll settle his stomach.

“Ugh, maybe this was a bad idea,” Dvd says to Divad.

“I told you,” Divad says.

“Dvd, you can choose to hide your thoughts again, but if you do—“

Dvd huffs. “I’m an open book. Happy?”

Ptonomy quirks a smile. “Actually, yes. Thank you for being as open with David as he is with you. You made that choice. I know that means a lot to David.” He looks to David. “Right?”

David gets the message. “It does,” he answers honestly. “It needs to be okay for us to upset each other. Just like with Amy. But if you keep insulting Syd, you’re the one who’s gonna be upset,” he warns. Dvd insulting Syd does not give David happy light bulb thoughts. “And the same goes for— Divad and Amy. The four of you—” David has to stop talking because his stomach doesn’t like it. He breathes and takes another small sip. Just make up already, he thinks at them.

“You know, I don’t remember David ever being this bossy,” Dvd says to Divad.

“We’re all different,” Divad admits. ‘Maybe that’s a good thing. Maybe— If we change enough—‘

“Exactly,” Ptonomy says. “We’re the ones who are making this time different, Divad. So if you don’t want this to end the same way it always has, keep challenging yourself, keep changing. Become the person you want to be, not the person you were forced to be.”

‘Just like David,’ Divad thinks.

“Hey, I’m changing, too,” Dvd reminds him. “I accepted David before you, I’m sharing my thoughts without that stupid relay. I’m gonna make up with Amy and Syd before you.”

“This isn’t a race,” Divad says.

“Says the loser,” Dvd smirks. “Hey, since David's busy being sick, I want my turn. We can do the foundation stuff later. C’mon!”

Ptonomy considers the request. “Your system foundation is extremely important. But if you’re motivated to truly make up with Amy and Syd—“

“Hell yeah I’m motivated,” Dvd declares.

Ptonomy thinks some more. “If Syd is willing, you two can have your session now. But David needs to stay embodied after that shock. So the three of you would have to agree to let Oliver relay you to Syd. Temporarily.”

“Fine,” Dvd says. “David?”

David feels too sick to think, there won’t be anything coming out of his head for Syd to hear. “S’fine,” he says. He needs to lie back down.

‘This just keeps getting worse,’ Divad thinks. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbles. ‘It’s not like I have a choice. I hate this I hate this I hate this.’

Ptonomy turns to Syd. “Looks like your next appointment just got moved up.”

Chapter 87: Day 11: His thought could have been her own. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd doesn't want the relay so she can hear David's thoughts. It would be nice to know exactly what he's thinking, it would probably be both infuriating and satisfying, but mostly— She just wants to be able to talk to Dvd and Divad. She wants to be able to hear what they're saying to David. She wants— No, needs to have actual conversations with them herself.

Face to face would be best. Syd would have been fine with waiting until Dvd had his turn in David's body for this. But David's laid out on a bench trying to keep his breakfast down, and they don't have any time to waste, so they're doing this now, whether she's ready for it or not.

She thinks she's ready. She'd better be.

"This will be just like before," Ptonomy tells her. "You already have the telepathic antenna from your previous session with Divad and Dvd. Oliver will relay to you, and you'll be able to hear Dvd and Divad's voices as well as all the Davids' thoughts. Okay?"

"Okay," Syd says. The last time they did this, it was to figure out what Future Syd did to David and why. She learned a few of David's secrets along the way, like the origin and reason for the locket she's wearing, but mostly— She learned how angry Dvd was with her, how angry David was with her even though he couldn't express that anger himself. Dvd had to express it for him.

But Dvd is ready to talk to her, to start patching things up. That's good, that's very good. It means even if David still needs to process their relationship, even if he's not ready for them to be together yet— Dvd is extremely protective of David, so he wouldn't agree to this if David didn't want it, didn't need it, didn't need her.

David needs her. That, more than anything else, will get her through this.

"Oliver, go ahead," Ptonomy says.

'C'mon c'mon c'mon,' say Dvd's impatient thoughts, springing to life in her head. At her startled reaction, she hears him say "Finally!" aloud. His voice is coming from the same spot where David sat during her session with him before. She tries to imagine him there now, but with Dvd's mannerisms, his expressions. She wants to meet his eyes, but it's difficult to meet the eyes of someone she can't see.

"Okay, listen up," Dvd tells her. "I'm not gonna mess around with this. We both know that David's gonna do his processing thing, blah blah blah, and then he's gonna forgive you."

'What?' David thinks, looking over at them.

"Sorry, but c'mon, that is not a secret," Dvd tells him. His voice turns back to her. "Forgiveness is David's thing. My thing is keeping David safe. It's protecting him from anything or anyone that tries to hurt him. I don't care if that's Divad or the shit beetle or you. So if you two wanna be together, if that makes David happy? Fine. But I'm always watching and if you fuck up one more time, I will end you."

Wow. Okay, maybe David's still got some anger to work out.

From somewhere near Oliver, Syd hears a despairing sigh. 'This is never going to work,' Divad thinks.

'Don't threaten Syd,' David thinks, annoyed. He must be too nauseous to talk.

"How am I supposed to keep her in line if I can't threaten her?" Dvd complains.

'You're supposed to be making up, not— Making things worse,' David thinks. 'Try actually, you know, talking to her?'

Dvd humphs. "Fine.” His voice turns back to Syd. “Let's talk."

Where to start? “Okay,” Syd says, thinking. “How about we talk about our relationship?”

Dvd snorts. “We don’t have a relationship. You’re with David, I’m with David, that’s it.”

“You’ve been with David his whole life,” Syd counters. “You've been with us since the moment we met in Clockworks. You were with us in the white room, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Dvd admits. “But none of that counts.”

“It counts for me,” Syd says. “I’ve shared things with you. My body, my emotions, my private words. So we need to talk about that.”

She glances over to see David staring at them.

"That has nothing to do with me," Dvd insists.

“When we talked about Future Syd,” Syd continues. “You said ‘she loved us, she had sex with us.’ Those were your words. Your system shares everything."

"Yeah," Dvd admits, "But—" 'That's not how we— David wasn't supposed to love people who weren't us.'

“But he does,” Syd counters. “David loves a lot of people, not just me." She pauses, considering Dvd's reaction. "How does your system work, emotionally?"

'It doesn't,' Divad thinks, bitterly.

"Hey, it'd work a lot better if we could share," Dvd tells him. He turns back to Syd. "When we're all in our body, we feel it together. Being projected all the time—" 'I hate it.'

'You do?' David asks, sounding— Hurt and worried.

"Yeah," Dvd admits. 'I miss—'

He doesn't finish his thoughts, but David reacts to his expression, whatever it is. "I'm sorry," he says, eyes filling with regret. 'I'm hurting him, but I can't—'

"You'll get there," Ptonomy intervenes. "Healing takes time. Trying to push yourself too hard will only set you back. Dvd, sharing sleep with David must have helped a lot, right?"

"Yeah," Dvd agrees. 'We were together again,' he thinks, and he sounds like—

His thought could have been her own. It's full of the same relief and yearning she felt after David's return, after spending hours with him in timeless space of the white room and then returning to their bodies, to reality. They were together again, and she never wanted to leave but the world dragged them back, undeniable.

"It must have been very hard for you, being apart from David for so long," Syd says. "Being apart from him now."

"We're together again," Dvd insists.

"But not the way you could be," Syd says. "Your relationship with him was intense. That was taken away from you. And now— You have to make a new relationship with him, a better one. But you don't know what that is, and— It's scary."

She desperately wishes she could see his face.

'She knows,' Dvd thinks. 'How does she—' "So what if it is?" he says, defensive.

"I'm just saying," Syd says. "I understand. How you feel for David— It's difficult to want someone, to love them, but— For that love to cause them pain. For your need to be with them to hurt them."

"You don't understand me," Dvd says, angrily.

"Would it be a bad thing if I did?" Syd asks. When he doesn't respond, she continues. "I know we can't be together yet, but I want to be. I want to be with David and that means being with all of him, with you and Divad. At the very least I want us to be friends. I think we need to be, because if we can't get along, all that's going to do is hurt David and make your system unstable."

'If she doesn't want to hurt David then she should leave,' Dvd grumbles.

'Syd leaving would hurt me,' David thinks back. 'You know how I feel, probably better than I do. Please, Dvd.'

“You hurt us,” Dvd tells Syd, furious. “You used us and manipulated us and tried to kill us! And you want us to act like none of that happened!”

“It did happen,” Syd says, accepting fault but refusing to back down. “Both me and my future self did those things. I did them to all of you. I’m prepared to do whatever I have to so you and David and Divad can each forgive me and accept me back into your lives. All I’m asking for is the chance to do that.”

“Liar,” Dvd sneers. “You never cared about us, you never loved us. You’re afraid of what we are and when you can’t handle us you’ll lock us up and walk away, just like everyone else!” His voice moves like he’s standing up. “You already did! This crown is your fault, I hate you!”

‘I gotta get out of here, I gotta— Shit, why didn’t I let David make a new bedroom?’ Dvd thinks, desperate.

“Dvd,” Ptonomy calls. “Divad, help him.”

“Calm down,” Divad says, and it sounds like— They’re struggling?

“Fuck you, traitor,” Dvd sneers. “I’m taking David and getting out of here!”

There’s a scuffle and then— David abruptly sits up, eyes wide.

“Oh no,” Syd breathes. She looks to Ptonomy and they both stand up, move towards David.

“David, talk to us,” Ptonomy says.

“No,” David gasps, but not in response to them. He jerks to his feet, struggling to control his body. “No, I don’t want this!”

“Get out of our body right now, you idiot!” Divad demands.

“Fuck you,” David— No, Dvd says. He lurches away, lurches back. “Stop it! No, I’m getting us out of here!”

David looks to Syd with terrified eyes. ‘Help me!’ he thinks.

“That’s enough,” Ptonomy says, grabbing him. “Oliver!”

Oliver stands up and the two of them wrestle Dvd and David to the ground. Syd hears snatches of thoughts, fragmented with anger and fear. Dvd and David are both panicking, struggling for control.

"David, step out," Ptonomy calls.

‘No, he's mine!’ Dvd cries. ‘Get out!’ David thinks, frantic. ‘Let me go!’

“That's enough!" Divad says, and then— David's body goes limp.

"What just happened?" Ptonomy asks, urgent.

"I made our body sleep," Divad says.

"And that made both of them sleep?" Ptonomy asks.

"It's just like the sleep inducer," Divad says, then sighs. "Blow things up and run away. That's Dvd's answer for everything."

"At least he can't literally blow things up," Ptonomy says. Ptonomy and Oliver haul David back up onto the bench. "We have to separate them," Ptonomy says.

"I can pull Dvd out," Divad says. "It's a lot easier when he's asleep."

Ptonomy considers this. "Will he wake up faster that way?"

"Oh, I'll wake him up," Divad promises.

"Do it," Ptonomy says.

There's silence, and then—

Dvd startles awake, confused. "What the hell— You asshole!" They start struggling again.

"Dvd!" Ptonomy yells. "Calm down and get a hold of yourself. Do you have any idea what you just did to David?"

The struggling stops. "I—" Dvd starts. "I was trying to protect him!"

"You were scared and you panicked," Ptonomy says, firmly. "You took control of David without his permission, you tried to force him to leave, you wouldn't let him go. What do you think that felt like to him?"

"I'm not the shit beetle!" Dvd says, angrily. "David should know that! He should let us be together, it's not fair!"

"You can't take what David isn't willing to give, not without hurting him."

"It's our body!" Dvd says.

"It is," Ptonomy says. "But David can't share it with you, not while he's awake, not until he's worked through his trauma. You just set him back and made it harder for him to trust you."

'Shit,' Dvd thinks. It sounds like he calming. "I didn't—"

"I know," Ptonomy says. "You didn't mean to hurt him, but you got scared and angry and your emotions took control of you. That happens to both you and Divad, and every time it does, you hurt your system. You have to learn to manage your emotions and your reactions, just like David."

"Hey, me being angry is what keeps us safe," Dvd insists.

"We talked about that before," Ptonomy reminds him. "That's a lie you tell yourself. Your anger hurts your system. It isolates you and it makes you lash out at everyone around you. Reckless anger won't save you or David from what's happening to you."

'This is bullshit,' Dvd thinks.

"It's the truth," Ptonomy says. "We're going to work on that later, but right now I want to make something extremely clear. You cannot ever take control of David like that again. You can't take David away from what he needs to get better. This is the third time you've tried that and it has to be the last."

The third? There was the incident with Kerry, obviously, but the other?

The courtroom. At the end when David changed— When Syd has a chance she wants to watch the surveillance footage of that day. She knows now that was Dvd taking control, trying to save David from her, from Division 3, from being forced into therapy.

"David didn't need any of you people before," Dvd says, surly. "He had us, he had me and that was enough."

"That's a lie, too," Ptonomy says. "David was sick with trauma and shame. You and Divad couldn't help him with those things any more than Amy could. You and Divad were the first to lock David away, to give up on him, and I think that guilt has been eating you alive ever since."

"No!" Dvd denies, but it's weak. "We didn't—"

"You did," Ptonomy says. "You were trapped with a monster, you were desperate to survive. Maybe David will never remember those years, but they still happened. You're all still living with the consequences. Denial won't help you any more than it helps David, those feelings will always find a way out."

'I hate this,' Dvd thinks, plaintive and angry.

"I know it's hard," Ptonomy says, gentler. "But if you want to be with David, you have to change, too. You have to work through your trauma and change your behavior. You have to accept the people he loves. You have to accept who he is now, not who you want him to be. Amy and Syd both understand that. If you want David to love you, the way to that is change and acceptance." He turns to where Divad's voice last came from. "Can you wake David up now? Not too fast."

"It'll just feel like he nodded off," Divad says.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Dvd, when David's awake, you're going to apologize to him and you're going to mean it. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Dvd grumbles, then sighs.

David wakes up, slowly at first and then— He bolts up, eyes wide, flailing.

"It's okay," Ptonomy tells him, reaching out. "You're in control, it's over. Look, Dvd and Divad are right here. You're alone in your body."

David makes a kind of desperate animal noise, something between terror and relief. He grabs Ptonomy's hand and grips it tightly. He's breathing so fast Syd's worried he might make himself pass out.

"You're okay," she tells him, hoping she can help soothe him. "Shhh, it's okay. You're safe, I promise you're safe."

David meets her eyes and she holds his gaze, putting as much calm and love into her eyes as she can. David doesn't look away. The terror leaks out of him and his breathing slows. As his tension drops, he slumps, exhausted.

"That was— Awful," he gasps.

"I'm sorry," Dvd says. "I fucked up, okay?" 'Please don't hate me.'

David makes an exasperated sound. "I don't hate you," he says. "But that was really— Not helpful." He wraps his arms around himself. He looks shaken, haunted.

"I think it's time we went downstairs," Ptonomy says. "We'll have to take a break until you're feeling better. But making your foundation is essential so we have to get it done as soon as we can. Your whole system needs to agree on your goals so you can get better together."

"Okay," David agrees. "I just— Need a minute."

"Take your time," Ptonomy says. "Is it okay if Syd sits with you?"

David nods.

Syd sits, leaving a comfortable amount of space between them. "Hey," she says, gently. "You okay?"

"Not really," David admits. "Seems like— My whole system is a disaster."

"I think we're all disasters," Syd says, wryly. "But maybe— That's a good thing? Helping each other get better— That will help us figure out who we want to be."

David looks at her meaningfully. 'I love her so much. God, I just— I just want—'

Okay, it does feel amazing to hear David thinking how much he loves her. But the relay— "David, Oliver's still sending me the relay," Syd warns.

"Oh," David says, realizing. 'Maybe I should— She needs to keep talking to Dvd, to Divad— What does it matter? Everyone else can hear, she should hear, but—' He looks away from her. 'I should do it for them, it doesn't matter if— I can't even share— What's wrong with me? Why can't I just— I'm hurting them, I'm hurting everyone—'

With a sinking feeling, Syd realizes— This is what David does to himself. If he's told to do something he doesn't want to do, if he feels obligated or pressured— He punishes himself until he gives in.

That's what he did with her their whole relationship. That's why he couldn't say no to her. That's part of why Dvd hates her, even though— David's doing the exact same thing with Dvd.

She used to love that so much, his need to please her, but now that she knows what it really is— She doesn't want it anymore. It's not love, it's just— Internalized abuse.

"David," Syd says, thinking of what she copied from David's notebook. "You have the right to say no. I'll be fine without the relay, Dvd will be fine without sharing during the day. We'll all be okay. What's important right now is for you to take care of yourself."

David doesn't look convinced. "I know, but—"

"You wrote that love means treating each other with trust, honesty, and respect. You have to give yourself that same love so you can heal. You need to be honest with yourself, you need to respect and trust your own needs. If you don't, you'll keep hurting yourself. That's what's happening now."

David pulls his arms tighter around himself. 'It's my fault, if I could share with Dvd—'

Syd realizes that David was right: he hurts himself and he doesn’t even know when he’s doing it. He blames himself, punishes himself—

"Dvd needs to get better, too," Syd says. "He loves you but he has a lot of work to do, just like I do. Hurting yourself won't help us, it won't heal your system. I don't need to hear your thoughts to love you. Dvd doesn't need to share with you to love you. It's okay for you to say no."

David looks at her again, and his eyes are full of meaning but no thoughts come across the relay. She always wondered what he was thinking in moments like this, and now she knows— He isn't. He's just feeling without words. What he's giving her is already everything he has.

"David," Syd says. "I want you to share your thoughts with me because you feel safe enough to share them. Because sharing them with me will make you happy. I don't want it to be a sacrifice. So please, if you're not ready— Ask Oliver to stop relaying to me."

'Can't it feel safe and be a sacrifice?' David thinks.

Syd gives a sad smile. "I don't think it can. But if you're afraid— I'll be right here. I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

David takes a shaky breath, lets it out. "Okay. Um, Oliver? Stop relaying to Syd. Please."

"Done," Oliver says.

David turns his head, listening to something. His brothers must be talking, but Syd can't hear them.

"No," Ptonomy says. "You two have been holding back a lot from David and that needs to end. Your system recovery needs equality and honesty. Even if that makes you uncomfortable, this is the best way to help you achieve those things. The relay is staying on for David until you're willing to share with him the way he shares with you."

Another pause and then:

"Oliver?" David asks.

"Let's have a look," Oliver says. He walks over and sits on David's other side. He places his hands on either side of David's head and they both close their eyes.

"What's happening?" Syd asks Ptonomy.

"Divad and Dvd asked Oliver to find a way to heal David's mental shields," Ptonomy explains. "They helped him with the sleep inducer. This is what they want in return. Oliver's taking a look to see what the problem is."

"Hmm," Oliver hums, thoughtful. He concentrates, frowns, then open his eyes, lowers his hands. "You said the monster broke him open?" he asks. A pause, and then: "Well, we all know what happens when we assume. David has no shielding ability. When your mind split and your powers were distributed— It seems he simply gave all his shielding to you."

"And there's no way to share that ability back?" Ptonomy asks.

"None that I know of," Oliver says. "Though it's possible I used to know. Perhaps I'll remember, perhaps not. We are leaves of the tree, we are drops of water running to the ocean through the fish’s mouth."

David turns and looks at where his brothers must be. "I guess— I was doing a terrible job of saving you," he says, with a sad smile.

A long pause, and then:

"So you'll both share?" Ptonomy asks. "Thank you. I know it's not easy, but it's important. David, will you do the honors?"

"Okay," David says. "Um, Oliver, could you— Stop relaying to me?"

"Done," Oliver says.

David listens, and then smiles, a little less sad this time. "Thank you," he says to his brothers. "This really— It means a lot."

David sacrificed his defenses to help his brothers. And now— They're making the same sacrifice to help him, to help their whole system become what it needs to be. To make things equal between them.

Healthy multiplicity, Syd thinks. It's not easy, figuring out what that means for all of them, but they're getting there.

Chapter 88: Day 11: Thanks. For the Twizzlers. (Amy)

Chapter Text

Amy's spent most of her life as a caregiver. Between Mom and David, there was always someone who needed help, some physical or emotional crisis that needed resolving or soothing. After Mom died, Amy grieved deeply but felt relieved that one burden had finally been lifted from her shoulders. But Mom's death only sent David into a years-long downward spiral. Sometimes it felt like David was doing it on purpose because he knew that Amy finally had more of herself to spare for him, that her attention wasn't divided anymore.

In hindsight, knowing what she knows now— It was still divided. She was taking care of three brothers, not one, and they were all being tortured, they were all traumatized. It's no wonder they were so much to handle. They're a lot to handle now, even though she's only one part of the Davids' new support system. But that support system is also traumatized, also prone to crises that need resolving or soothing.

Amy rushes down the stairs as she watches Lenny and Kerry hug over the mainframe feed. She pushes open the door to the hallway as Lenny gropes Kerry, and reaches the door to the lab as Kerry shoves Lenny away.

Ptonomy was worried that Lenny wasn't stable enough to be in the lab. He had deep concerns about her mental state, about what was even left of her after a year of horrific torture and transformation. Even though Farouk couldn’t directly control her anymore, couldn’t reach her in the mainframe, the question remained of who Lenny even was at all, after everything she endured.

But David needed her. David still needs her. And for her own sake, Lenny needs to be in a body, needs to be with people, just like Amy and Ptonomy. But their android bodies are only a temporary solution. All three of them are running out of time. They just didn't expect Lenny to be the first to lose herself.

In hindsight, maybe they should have.

"I'm here," Amy calls, rushing into the lab, to the latest unfolding disaster. "I came as fast as I could." When Kerry sees her, she rushes up to Amy and clings to her, distressed. "Shh, it's all right," Amy soothes.

Amy meets Cary's eyes. Cary stares back, obviously distressed that Kerry didn't run into his arms instead. But he asked for Amy's help with Kerry, he asked Amy to become a part of Kerry's life, to help Kerry in ways Cary can't.

Cary visibly accept's Kerry's choice, then rounds on Lenny. "Don't ever do that again," he warns, furious.

"It was an accident," Lenny says, raising her hands. But she seems to realize how obvious the lie is. "Shit, I'm sorry."

When Lenny stands up, Kerry tenses, ready to attack again. Kerry's a fierce fighter, Amy saw that through Lenny's eyes in the desert. But fighting won't help Kerry or Lenny right now.

"Amy, can you take Kerry to our room?" Cary asks. "I'll take care of things here."

"What about Oliver?" Amy asks. Oliver's standing and watching in that curious but passive way he has. He's been calm and helpful, but he went through a year of horrific torture himself. She just doesn't know if he'll heal enough to engage with his trauma before her own detachment syndrome makes her just as mentally adrift as he is.

"I've got Oliver," Cary says. "Just take care of Kerry for me. Please?"

Amy gives Cary a sympathetic look, then coaxes Kerry to leave the lab with her. Kerry glares back as they leave, clingy and furious. When they get to Kerry and Cary's room, she pulls away from Amy and wipes angrily at her eyes.

She's upset, still reeling. Amy knows from both long and recent experience that Kerry needs space to calm herself and settle, so she sits down on the bed and waits. The room is smaller than she expected, only really meant for a single person. But then until very recently, that was how Cary and Kerry spent most of their time, as a single person.

"She's not supposed to do that," Kerry mutters, pacing the long space by the bed. "Who does that! I thought she was nice because she helped David but she's not."

"She shouldn't have done that," Amy agrees.

"That's right," Kerry says, defiant. "You're not supposed to do that, you're not supposed to—" She cuts herself off. "I thought she was nice," she says, betrayed.

Amy pats the bed. "Sit with me?"

Kerry gets a stubborn look, like she just want to be angry and find something to punch, and that something might possibly be Lenny. But she throws herself onto the bed with a huff. She crosses her arms in protective defiance and scowls.

"If she's gonna do things like that she should go back to her cell," Kerry tells her.

"What Lenny did was wrong," Amy agrees. "But she needs help, not punishment."

"No she doesn't," Kerry insists. "She needs to be squished up in a gross ball."

Walter. Amy was there for that horrific display. Walter tortured her, he hurt David, he hurt Kerry and a lot of people. He enjoyed causing pain and she was glad to see him dead. But Lenny isn't Walter.

Through the mainframe, Amy hears Lenny telling Cary that there was too much Benny in her Lenny cocktail.

"Lenny isn't like Walter," Amy tells Kerry. "Do you know what happened to Lenny?"

"Farouk killed her," Kerry says. "And then— I dunno. She was him, and then she was you, and now she's just her."

"All that's true," Amy says. "But something else happened to her, something— It's a little like what happened to David."

Kerry perks up. Kerry has so much empathy for David, she relates to him so much even though she barely understands what he's dealing with, what he's been through. Amy hopes that empathy can be spread around a bit.

"At first she was just Lenny, David's friend who had a very difficult life," Amy begins. "But David had another friend, a man named Benny. Farouk knew everything about Benny because he read Benny's mind for years. When Farouk captured Lenny, he changed her. He gave her Benny's memories and thoughts, and changed David's memories to match hers."

"Why?" Kerry asks, confused.

"Because Farouk needed David to trust him," Amy says. "And even though David trusted Lenny a lot, Farouk needed more. Imagine if someone combined David and Cary together into one person. You’d feel everything you felt for each of them, but for one person."

"Weird," Kerry says, but she's taking it in. "Cary and David are pretty different, though."

"They are," Amy agrees. "And so were Lenny and Benny. The Lenny we know is really two people in one."

"So there's someone else inside her, too?" Kerry asks, eyes wide.

Amy smiles. "Sort of. But she's not a system. You know how David lost his old memories, how Farouk gave him new ones? Some of those new memories are from his brothers. Some of David is Dvd and Divad."

"The Davidest David," Kerry says, proudly.

"Exactly," Amy says. "But the memories and thoughts Lenny was given, they were from someone who was very different from her. I knew Benny. David was friends with him for years, but Benny wasn't a good friend. He stole from David, he was cruel to him—"

"Then why'd David trust him?" Kerry asks.

"You know how David hurts himself?" Amy asks, even though she grieves at the memories that brings her. "He wanted to hurt himself back then, too. Benny helped him do that."

That's clearly a step too far for Kerry to understand.

"Kerry," Amy says, trying to draw her back, "Lenny isn't just Lenny. She's also Benny, and— Benny is the one who's like Walter."

"Oh," Kerry says, and now it's clicking. "So— We have to get Benny out?"

"We can't," Amy says. "Lenny is also Benny now, and she has to learn to deal with that. That's going to be very hard for her. And— She also needs our help because her detachment syndrome is getting worse, and that makes it harder for her to control the Benny parts of her."

"If she's dangerous, we have to keep her away from David," Kerry insists.

"David needs her," Amy says. "Lenny doesn't want to hurt David. She didn't want to hurt you. When you're ready to go back to the lab, I'm sure she'll want to apologize."

“I don’t care about her stupid apology,” Kerry says, annoyed. “I want to punch her in the face.”

"Punching isn't the answer for everything," Amy says.

"It helped David," Kerry insists.

Amy wasn't there for that incident, she was still trapped inside of Lenny. But she watched the surveillance footage, she knows what happened to David even though they couldn't see him.

"Kerry," Amy says. "You punching Dvd— That upset David a lot. It made David go away."

Kerry stares at her, stricken. In the surveillance footage, Kerry was deeply upset at having hurt David. She knew David went away after that, he didn't come back until the next morning. But Amy realizes Kerry never fully connected her violence with David's vanishing, maybe because David stepped out before he went away. And of course, back then everyone still had so much to learn about what was actually happening to David.

"We all make mistakes," Amy says, gently. "What's important is that we learn from our mistakes, that we try to be better."

"I am trying," Kerry says, stubbornly. "I'm doing a lot, I'm eating and doing body stuff and being with people and talking and— I have to because I'm outside now, I have to, but—"

"But what?" Amy prompts, seeing Kerry struggle.

Kerry huffs and looks away from her. "I hate it sometimes," she admits. "It hurts and it's lonely and—" She sniffs and her eyes well up. "Cary doesn't want to be inside. What if he's never inside again?"

"Of course he will be," Amy assures her. "He loves you very much."

"He doesn't need me," Kerry says, her chin wobbling. "I needed him all the time but— He doesn't need help with body stuff or being outside or anything."

Amy is reminded strongly of yesterday, of Divad saying he didn't know how to be part of his system anymore. She thinks of Dvd being distraught because David wouldn't turn to him for comfort. "Kerry, what does it mean to be inside, for you?"

"I dunno," Kerry shrugs.

"You spent a lot of time inside of Cary," Amy says. "Was it just that you were afraid of stepping out?"

"No," Kerry says. "I liked being inside. It was— I dunno."

"You felt safe?" Amy suggests. "Protected?"

Kerry's tension eases a little. "Yeah. Cary was always— He took care of everything. He talked to me all the time and— If I was upset, he made me feel better, or he told me jokes, or—"

Amy thinks about Kerry's panic attack in the clothing store. "So when you were inside, Cary didn't just take care of body stuff. He managed your emotions, just like Divad manages David's emotions."

"Wow," Kerry says, taking that in. "Um, yeah. I guess he did."

"That must have been second nature to him," Amy says. "You were inside him, he felt how you felt, so— He soothed you as if he was soothing himself. Working that way your whole lives— It was so natural for both of you, you didn't even think about it. But Cary doesn't do that anymore, right?"

"Yeah," Kerry realizes. "Does that mean— He doesn't want to?"

"I think— Seeing you physically apart from him— it changes how he sees you. You're not an extension of him anymore, you're a separate person, and he's treating you as a separate person."

"But we're not," Kerry insists. "He's supposed to be inside." She holds her body like she's trying to soothe some physical pain inside her. And she said being outside hurts...

"I think being inside is just as scary for him as being outside is scary for you," Amy offers. "The Davids are figuring out how to share again. I think you and Cary need to figure out how to share again, too."

"I tried," Kerry pouts.

"Then try again," Amy says. "Remember how hard it was to get David to listen? All of us can be that way. If it's important, we have to keep trying."

Kerry sighs. "I just want things to be the way they were."

"Do you?" Amy asks. "You wouldn't be friends with David the way you are now, if you were still inside Cary all the time. You wouldn't have eaten cherry pie together yesterday."

Kerry smiles at the memory. "I guess. It's just—" She hugs herself again.

"I know," Amy says. She opens her arms, and Kerry almost throws herself into them, clinging as desperately as David used to, as he still does sometimes. Amy's been sharing touch and hugs almost the entire morning, and every hug makes her feel calmer, more connected, more herself, and it does the same for everyone she's with. She never thought of hugging as medicine, but that's how it feels. Or maybe it's her mutant power, even though she’s only human.

Through the mainframe, Amy hears the relay come on, the Davids' thoughts and voices flowing into the data streams.

'Oliver,' Amy calls through the mainframe, 'Can you wait to share the relay with Cary and Kerry? They have system work to do down here.'

'Of course,' Oliver replies.

Amy turns her attention back to her physical environment and to Kerry. "How about we go back to the lab? We can talk to Lenny, and then we can both talk to Cary."

Kerry doesn't look thrilled at the idea of doing either, but she nods.

§

As they take the elevator back to the lab, Amy reaches out to Lenny through the mainframe.

'We're coming back,' she warns. She sends Lenny the recording of the conversation she had with Kerry, sharing the experience with her. Their android bodies are designed for easy sharing, taking advantage of the fact that the mainframe is their collective brain. In seconds, Lenny knows everything.

'Way to make me feel worse,' Lenny grumbles.

'I don't want you to feel worse,' Amy says. 'Did the hugs at least make you feel better?'

'Eh, a little,' Lenny admits. 'Want me to send you my hug with Kerry?'

'Not funny,' Amy chides. 'You and Kerry are going to fix this before David gets back. And when he does, you're going to tell him everything and show him you're accepting help.'

'This is such bullshit,' Lenny mutters.

'We all need to model for David,' Amy reminds her. 'None of this is easy for me, either.'

'Eh, you love all this touchy-feely crap.'

'I don't love hearing David hurt himself,' Amy says. Whether it's Dvd hurting Divad or Divad hurting David or David hurting himself, it breaks her heart to have to listen to all of it and let it happen. But the Davids need to learn to stop hurting their system. All of them can help, but the Davids have to do the work themselves.

'Yeah, that part sucks,' Lenny agrees. 'Hey, what's up with Dvd and David? When Syd finds out, she's gonna be jealous.'

'Don't you dare say anything,' Amy warns. They already know what kind of relationship Dvd and David used to have when they were teenagers, Dvd couldn't help but think about it, mourn for it, when Lenny got them drunk. They weren’t sure how they’d handle that particular revelation, but David has been coming back to it naturally, even without his memories. It seems to be— How they work.

'It's certainly unusual,' Amy admits. 'But Dvd and David aren't actually brothers. If it helps David to love himself—'

Amy reminds herself that Farouk already knows everything. They can't afford denial. Love is what will save them, they hope, but if they don't help that love become healthy and strong, Farouk will weaponize it. Again.

At least the two of them are talking. And right now, in the garden, Dvd is finally starting to open up about the depths of his feelings. And David is accepting them, returning them, seeing Dvd as the light bulb in his rocket lamp. It's really terribly sweet.

But Divad's thoughts fill with regret and jealousy, grief and fear. Divad still needs so much help, but like Syd his response to stress is to lock down his emotions and isolate himself. They didn't want to have to force him to open up, but they're running out of time. David is ready to take on the real work of healing his system, his relationships. They have to help him do that.

They reach the lab and Amy lowers her awareness of the mainframe feed, telling Lenny to do the same and trusting Ptonomy to handle things up on the roof. He'll share the experience with them later so they don't miss anything, so they can review David's therapy from their own perspectives. Sharing Ptonomy's experiences has helped her so much. He's been rubbing off on her with his ability to stay calm and outwardly focused, with his practiced expertise in handling just the kind of crisis Amy is soothing and resolving now. And she's been helping him to allow himself to be cared for, to have more compassion. Ptonomy has also been a caregiver for most of his life. It's not a big leap to mix a little bit of him into her, and her into him.

It's not just David and Lenny. They're all cocktails, to a degree; all mixtures of the people in their lives, in their hearts. That's simply how everyone works. As with so many things, Farouk took what was natural and abused it for his own ends.

Amy gives Kerry another hug. "You can do this," she promises. "I'll be right with you every step of the way, okay?"

"Okay," Kerry echoes. She's very nervous, but she's brave and determined, too. If they can help her heal her system with Cary, that will help the Davids heal theirs. And the situation with Lenny is just as important. If Kerry and Lenny can show that mistakes don't have to be disasters, that they can be resolved with compassion and understanding instead of punishment, that will help all the Davids stop punishing their system.

Lenny is sitting in the same beanbag chair she was in before, this time with Matilda settled contentedly on her lap. Lenny is petting her, and doesn't stop as they approach. Cary is sitting on the sofa, studying printouts, and he looks up at their approach.

"Kerry," Cary says, immediately concerned.

"I'm okay," Kerry says. She sits down on the loveseat and Amy sits next to her and takes her hand. Kerry squeezes back. Cary's eyes flicker with longing, but he doesn't say anything.

He does want to be with Kerry again. He needs it just as much as she does. But they can't be how they were, so they need to figure out what being together means for them now. Amy hasn't ever heard their thoughts, but they're a system like the Davids, they have an intense closeness like she does with David, like Syd does with David. System, family, or lover— The need for closeness feels so much the same. That's just how everyone works, too.

She wonders if that's how Farouk works. She wonders about Walter and Benny. There are plenty of people who don't regret hurting other people, and too many who take pleasure in it. Farouk tried to frame David as one of those people, tried to make him like them. And yet he claims to want David's love, he seems to crave it. Is it simply— The human need for attachment combined with a pathological lack of empathy? Or was living inside of David for thirty years enough to mix some of David's intense need for love into Amahl Farouk?

Kerry. Amy has to focus on her physical environment, on Kerry and Lenny and Cary. She can't allow herself to drift. She saves the thought for later so she doesn't lose it, and focuses on the feeling of Kerry's hand in her own.

"Hey, kid," Lenny says to Kerry. "Sorry about before."

Kerry gives Lenny a skeptical look. "Amy told me about how you're Benny sometimes. Benny's a jerk and I don't like him."

Lenny gives a wry snort. "Yeah, well, I'm not a big fan either. It's just—" She struggles with what to say. "The world's been shit to me. I'm doing this so I can make it less shit, you get me?"

"Then be Lenny, not Benny," Kerry tells her.

"I'm trying," Lenny says, letting her frustration show. "See? I'm getting my touch therapy so my mind doesn't dissolve."

Kerry is disturbed by that, and softens. "I don't want your mind to dissolve. You're kinda weird, but you're helping David."

"I'm the weird one?" Lenny says, astonished. "I'm the least weird out of all you freaks."

"Yeah, you're the weird one," Kerry says back. "You're super weird. You're two people but they can't even be apart. You should kick Benny out so I can punch him."

Lenny stares at her, speechless, then laughs. "Kid, I wish I could. Maybe I should get the actual Benny in here and string him up for you."

In the mainframe, Amy sees Lenny's question go out, and then just like that, there's the answer.

"What's wrong?" Kerry asks, seeing Lenny's expression.

"Shit," Lenny says, taken aback. "I'm dead. I mean, Benny's dead. He died, like, years ago."

"I'm sorry," Amy says.

"I'm sorry," Cary says. "What happened to him?"

"Being a junkie happened," Lenny says. "I was always mooching off of David. He was. Whatever." She shakes her head as if to clear it. "David went to Clockworks so Benny was on his own. He lasted another couple years then croaked. Overdosed alone. Cops found his body."

Kerry's hand tightens on Amy's, and Amy can see both Kerry and Cary want to offer a comforting hug to Lenny. Amy feels that urge herself. It's hard to resist that when hugging has become so important for all of them. But touching Lenny without permission would be as much a violation as Lenny groping Kerry, even though touch is what Lenny needs to survive.

"Lenny," Amy says, gently.

"I'm fine," Lenny says, even though she obviously isn't. "Guess it's a good thing I got shoved into that hellhole after all, huh?"

"So Benny’s dead?" Kerry asks. "But he's not dead, because he's inside you, and you're alive?"

"If you can call this alive," Lenny says, shock creeping into her voice. "Shit, I wasn't even alive when I died. I'm not even— Shit."

Oh dear. Amy checks back on the relay and the surveillance system, she might need Ptonomy's help with this. But Ptonomy has his hands full because David just had a shock of his own. They have to handle this themselves.

"You're Lenny, not Benny," Amy reminds her, firmly. "You've always been Lenny, no matter what Farouk did to you. You survived, just like David."

"What, I need the foundation speech now?" Lenny asks, and now panic is creeping in. "Lenny is Lenny? Are you gonna tell me I didn't deserve what happened to me?"

"Of course you didn't," Cary says. He pauses, then: "I'm sorry for being so harsh before. Your situation is very similar to David's and— Of course it's not acceptable for you to hurt Kerry, any more than it was acceptable for David to hurt Syd. But we're helping David and we want to help you."

"I'm not your patient," Lenny sneers. "I'm done with that shit."

"You are our patient, for detachment syndrome if nothing else," Cary reminds her.

Amy has a sense of deja vu. Lenny helped them get through to Syd, to get her to accept the help she needs and stop fighting every inch of the way. And now Lenny needs the same help. What helped David and Syd start to help themselves?

Syd needed to know that love could help her survive. Touch and friendship helped her feel like it was safe to let down her guard. David needed hope that there was something in him worth loving, worth saving. He chose to live when Amy was saved, when he got back something he thought he'd lost forever, when— He got proof that the things Farouk took could be taken back. And Lenny?

Amy checks the mainframe, and the answer comes to her.

"Lenny," Amy says, meeting her eyes. "I know this is very difficult for you. But you didn't survive everything Farouk put you through just to give up now. You're stronger than that. You need to get better for yourself. You need to let us help you so you can live, so Farouk can never make you his doll again."

The panic starts to fade from Lenny's eyes. "Yeah," she says, more to herself than Amy. "Yeah, fuck the shit beetle."

"Fuck the shit beetle," Amy agrees. "And yes, Lenny is Lenny. I knew the real Benny, you know I did. My memories of him are real and whole. And you're not him, you were never him. You're Lenore Busker and Farouk took you because you helped David, because you loved him, because he loved you and trusted you. And David was right to. Everyone else failed him, but you didn't. Whatever ideas Farouk put into your head, they're not who you are."

Lenny holds Matilda close and struggles to accept Amy's words. "Shit," she breathes. "I'm gonna have to get one of those fucking notebooks." She sounds resigned, annoyed, relieved. Amy knows that means she'll be okay.

"They do seem to help," Cary says. "I'm thinking that Kerry and I could use one ourselves."

"You are?" Kerry asks, turning to Cary in surprise.

"The Davids have their system notebook," Cary says. "I thought perhaps—" He hesitates. "I'm sorry about last night. I know we need to—" He hesitates again, afraid. "I'm such a coward."

"You're not a coward," Kerry says, sternly. "Just because you don't like to fight— You've always taken care of me and kept me safe, you're always helping people, and— I have to help you the way you always help me. I have to help you be inside the way you help me be outside."

"Why don't you two go talk?" Amy suggests. She doesn't think Kerry needs her help anymore, at least not for this. "I'll stay with Lenny."

"The garden's taken," Cary says to Kerry. "Should we go back to our room?"

"No, let's—" Kerry says, thinking. "Let's go to the cafeteria."

"You're sure?" Cary asks, surprised.

"Yeah," Kerry says. "We can get some hot chocolate and drink it together. That's our thing, right? Like David and cherry pie."

Cary relaxes, smiles for her. "Hot chocolate it is," he agrees. They stand to leave and Cary looks back at Amy and Lenny. "Should we bring something back for everyone?"

Amy checks on the garden again. Dvd is agreeing to have his first session with Syd. David's laid out on a bench, feeling sick. She thinks about how he said he missed eating. She doesn't want to associate David's favorite treats with him feeling sick, but perhaps—

"Cheese on toast and some fruit," she decides. That's what David used to eat when he wasn't feeling well. "David likes cherries and grapes. Syd likes melon. I'm not sure what Oliver likes."

"I remember," Cary says. "We'll be back soon." He and Kerry hug, then he takes her hand and holds it as they leave the lab.

"They’re just, like, toxically sweet," Lenny mutters.

"How many Twizzlers did you and David go through?" Amy asks. "I'm the one who sent the care packages."

"Yeah, yeah," Lenny says, rolling her eyes.

"It took years for David to admit he gave all his Twizzlers to you," Amy says. "But you shared them back with him. He loves you very much, and I know you love him. He doesn't want to lose you."

"I know," Lenny sighs. "I've heard it. David's not shy about slobbering his love all over us in his thoughts. He might not like dogs anymore, but he is such a giant puppy, I swear."

Amy smiles. For all the pain she hears through the relay, there's so much love, too.

"I am sorry about Benny," Amy tells her. "Once I got David away from him, I didn't care what happened to him. David still thinks he's alive somewhere."

"Guess we'll break the news," Lenny says. "Probably gonna bum him out."

"That's because he remembers you, not Benny," Amy points out. "Dvd and Divad remember the real Benny, too. Maybe— It might help for us to talk together about him. We can do some untangling."

"Yeah, maybe," Lenny says, not thrilled but not ruling it out either. "Another Irish wake?"

"Without the whiskey this time," Amy says. "But I do have something that I think will help you feel better."

"Gonna hit me with more hug memories?" Lenny asks, and she doesn't look thrilled at the idea.

"I was reading up on haphephobia," Amy says. "Most people with haphephobia aren't like Syd. They've been hurt so their bodies react defensively to touch. But touch is calming, it's what they need to heal. The have to re-engage with their bodies so they can recognize the emotions they're feeling, so they can get used to touch and accept it again."

"So?" Lenny says, and Amy's sure she's intentionally missing the point.

"So that's what you need for your haphephobia."

"You must be confusing me with someone else," Lenny says. "Blonde, five foot five, icy glare?" At Amy's pointed look, she huffs. "I'm fine with touch. It's just gotta be the right kind."

"Sex," Amy says. She's hardly going to forget watching through Lenny's eyes at that drug-fuelled party. New Janine and Lenny certain enjoyed their debauchery.

"Fuck yeah, sex," Lenny says. "You wanna know what keeps me going? Hot chicks, sugar, and whatever mind-altering substances I can get my hands on. And I can't do any of that in this thing. At least in the mainframe I could rub one off."

Lenny did indeed rub one off in the mainframe, more than once. Amy and Ptonomy politely ignored it, like they ignored her loud music and her insults.

"I miss having a real body, too," Amy says. "But until we get them, touch is the best treatment for us. It's what's going to keep us who we are for as long as possible, so we can help David end this nightmare once and for all."

"So what's your big idea?" Lenny asks, grudgingly.

"This isn't a choice between sex and hugs," Amy says. "There are many kinds of touch. We just have to find one you're able to accept. Can we give it a try? Unless you want to hold Matilda for the next week or two?"

"God no," Lenny says. "I'm already covered in fur. Syd wears solid black, how does she not look like a walking shag carpet?"

"She uses a lint roller," Amy says, fondly amused. "We can both use it after we figure out how to give you touch."

"Ugh, fine," Lenny grumbles. "Just tell me what to do."

"Let's take the sofa," Amy says, moving over.

Lenny lets Matilda go and tries in vain to brush herself off. Then she walks around the coffee table and lands on the sofa with a huff.

"How about holding hands?" Amy asks. She holds a hand out, palm up.

Lenny gives her hand the side-eye, but reaches out to take it. When her palm touches Amy's, she pulls her hand back like Amy's hand is a hot stove. "No," she says, firmly.

"No hugging, no holding hands," Amy accepts. "Can we sit side-by-side?"

They try it. Lenny lasts a little longer, but not long enough. "Maybe I should go get the cat," Lenny sighs.

"How about something less intimate?" Amy suggests. "We can sit with just our legs together."

They sit with their backs towards the arms of the sofa, Amy's leg flush with Lenny's leg.

"Yeah," Lenny says, taking it in. "This is okay."

They sit this way for a few minutes.

"Still good?" Amy asks.

"Yeah," Lenny says. "Maybe, uh, we can try another one? See what else works?"

"Of course," Amy says, pleased. "You know, the material I read said that the most important part of this is for you to be fully in control of the experience. I think that's how sex is for you. You were certainly in control of New Janine."

"Ha! I was," Lenny says, smugly. "Just call me the Queen."

"You can look her up again when you get your new body," Amy says. "She was very fond of you."

"Yeah, maybe," Lenny says. "So what's touch where I'm in control?"

"Stand up," Amy instructs. "I'll turn my back to you. You hug me. I won't touch you. But don't get handsy or Kerry will punch you in the face."

Lenny laughs. "She totally would. Girl's got a mean right hook."

Amy stands and holds still, her arms slightly spread, her posture relaxed. Lenny steps up close to her and reaches around her waist. Amy tenses for a moment, remembering— Farouk as Lenny, taking her, menacing her—

But Lenny isn't Farouk. She holds Amy and rests against her back and—

"Fuck," Lenny breathes, snuggling her. She shifts her grip, and for another moment Amy thinks Lenny is going to give in to her Benny urges again—

But the moment passes. Lenny settles into the hug, soaking in it, calming. Amy calms, too.

"Better?" Amy asks, after a while.

"Mm hmm," Lenny says, and doesn't let go. "Thanks. For the Twizzlers."

"Anytime," Amy promises.

Chapter 89: Day 11: Four hours isn't enough for me. (Cary)

Chapter Text

Cary's confidence lasts exactly as long as it takes for him and Kerry to pick up their hot chocolates from the service window and sit down opposite each other at a table.

He doesn't think he can do this. He's such a coward. But sitting close to Kerry like this, the ache he feels is even stronger, pulling for him to just— Let go. Be inside her, let them be whole together. If they don't talk about this now, the choice may very well be taken away from them, and it will be like before, painful and frightening and—

Kerry reaches out to take his hand, comfort him, and isn't that just another sign of how things are now? Of this utter transformation they've endured? Hardly obvious from the outside, when they're apart, and yet—

They're different. He's different. He can feel it, he—

He musters a smile for her and squeezes her hand. She smiles back.

"We need to talk," Cary says, more to himself than to her. "About— Being inside."

"Yeah," Kerry agrees. "I talked to Amy about it. She asked, um, what being inside meant for me."

"What does it mean?" Cary asks, and feels like a fool for not asking the question himself in the first place. He hasn't handled this whole situation very well at all, first by failing to help Kerry with the transition and then by doing a terrible job with himself. Thank goodness for Amy and the Davids.

"I think I'm still figuring that out," Kerry admits. "I didn't need to think about it before, it was just how I was. I was inside, and you took care of me, and— Even when I came out— That wasn't really me. I was just— Part of you. Is that how you felt?"

"Yes," Cary admits. "Perhaps that's why I never fully encouraged you to have your own life. I felt you should, of course, but—"

But what? He'd first tried to coax Kerry to come out in front of others just to finally have proof that she wasn't all in his head. And once he had that proof, once he accepted the label of mutant instead of mentally ill—

Melanie and Oliver gradually helped Kerry to stay outside, to be with them as an individual. Melanie did most of the hard work. Cary was fully supportive of Kerry then, of course, but Kerry was still so physically young. It took decades for her to age the first few years. Her body first manifested with a physical age of eight, the same as he was at the time, and after that—

It's hard to say exactly how old Kerry's body is now. Perhaps nineteen, twenty? He tried to keep track at first, counting the hours, adding them up to days, weeks, years, but precision was difficult. She's only existed outside of him for perhaps a dozen years in total, a mere fraction of their shared life. But it didn't matter because— That body wasn't truly her. It was just something she wore. Her natural state was inside him.

"I suppose I didn't want you to stay outside of me," Cary admits. "And now— We're reversed. And I feel—"

He feels terrified of everything that will mean.

"Yeah," Kerry says, soberly. "I like being outside, most of the time, but— It hurts. And I don't think it's supposed to hurt?"

"It isn't," he admits. "But I— I'm very afraid. I want us to be together, to be whole. But I don't want to give up— Being me, being— My own person, with my own identity, my own relationships, my own purpose. I don't want to simply— Hide and— Surrender who I am— To you."

Kerry's hurt by his words. There was no way for him to say them in a way that wouldn't hurt her. He tried to tell her before but she didn't hear him.

"I don't want you to hide," Kerry insists. "I know I said that before, but—"

"What if it isn't our choice?" Cary asks. "What if— You didn't hide because you were afraid? What if— You had to be inside? Until all of this, the longest we were ever apart was last year, when you left with Syd and Ptonomy. And those few days were— Terribly difficult for me. I needed you back so much. I told myself it was psychological, that it was— Simple dependence, but— And then you were shot, and— I never asked— If it was difficult for you."

"Being shot was," Kerry says, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. "But, um— Yeah. It was hard for me, too, but— I just thought— Being outside was— It was always scary anyway, so— I just had to get through it."

"I did the math," Cary admits. "At a generous estimate— For every twenty-four hours, you could only have spent perhaps four hours outside of me. On average, of course. Some days you didn't come out at all, or barely stepped out for a few minutes. And I can't— Four hours isn't enough for me."

Four hours a day— Even the Davids each get more than that, give or take, and there are three of them sharing one body. Cary and Kerry have two separate bodies they can use and yet— Four hours.

"Sleep shouldn't count," Kerry defends. "We sleep for, like, six hours, so— Four out of eighteen?" She immediately gives up the attempt. "I don't know. But I didn't go back inside after four hours because it hurt. I went back because I wanted to. Maybe once you start, you'll just— Want to."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Cary says. "That spending more time as you than me— I'll lose who I am. How could I not? We are, at least in part, our actions, our environment— Being outside helped make me who I am. Being outside to work, to learn, to help people, to socialize—"

"We didn't need to socialize," Kerry insists.

"We did," Cary says. "I did. I know I'm not exactly— A social butterfly. Much of the time— I isolate myself with work, with— Fear of— Rejection, not being— Wanted." He gives her a meaningful look. "But I never worried about you. I always knew you wanted me, you accepted me. I could be with you and— That meant I was never alone."

"You won't be alone when you're inside me," Kerry says. "I'll always be with you, the way you were always with me." She looks hurt. "Or you were. Even though we're still together all day— You don't take care of me anymore."

"I can't," Cary says, apologetic. "You need to be in the world, you need to be independent. I'm so much older than you, when I die—"

"How can you die if— If we're the same person?" Kerry asks. "If we're— A system like the Davids, if we have one soul, then— How can you ever leave me?"

"I don't know," Cary admits. "I don't even know that we are a system. We've been so many things, Kerry. You were my imaginary friend, and then you were a symptom, and then— We were mutants. We are mutants."

"The Davids are mutants, too," Kerry says. "Maybe— We're a system and mutants."

Cary can't help but think of Syd telling David he had powers and he was sick. Like the crown, somehow that pain has come back around to him. Despite his words of comfort to David— It was a tremendous relief to leave the label of sickness behind. Just as it was for David last year.

When Melanie and Oliver found Cary, they gave him the same speech they gave so many mutants. What if the story of his life, the story of sickness and societal rejection, was a lie? What if the things that isolated him were the very things that could make him belong? If he wasn't crazy, he could be accepted, he could give back, he could live happily ever after.

It was far more complicated than that, of course. Life is never as simple as a story. But Cary accepted the story into himself just as David did. He built his new life on that foundation. And now— Just as with David, that foundation may crumble.

"If we're a system," Cary asks, feeling the question in his very soul, "then who are we?"

Kerry frowns. "We're Kerry and Cary," she says, like that's the only possible answer.

"The Davids are essentially a single person," Cary says. "The split mind of David Haller. Though they're all individuals— At one point they were one person. Listening to their thoughts— I could hear how— Despite that separation— There’s still an underlying wholeness to them. It is possible for DID identities to fuse, to— heal the split. But it’s very difficult, must be purely consensual, and requires enormous mental work."

Kerry's eyes widen. "You mean the Davids could just be a single David again?"

"They could," Cary admits. "But the more individuated the identities, the less such a fusion is possible or even desirable. As difficult as it's been for them to heal from what Farouk did to them— I don't think the Davids would want that. Their individual identities are just as important to them as the companionship they share. Just as it is for us."

"Well, yeah," Kerry says, like it's obvious. "So what's the problem?"

Cary doesn't know how to answer that. He feels ashamed that there's still that stubborn thorn lodged in his heart that says normal. He thought he'd got it out, accepting being a mutant, but it was only hiding, lying in wait for the next moment of doubt.

"If we're a system," Cary starts, "How were we born like this? What made us this way? What would we have been if our mind hadn't split? Being mutants from birth— There's nothing strange about that. But I don't know if there's ever been— A mental split in the womb. That shouldn't even be possible."

"So what? Mutants do impossible stuff all the time," Kerry says. "David turned a gun into a mop. He made a giant monster tiny and squashed it with his brain. He can teleport and read minds and fly."

Cary realizes that Kerry simply isn’t capable of the kind of existential angst that plagues both himself and David. She just accepts things as they are. She's never truly known any other way to be than how she is. She never suffered through ostracism and uncertainty and turbulent self-knowledge the way Cary and David have. And that's a relief, it's everything Cary ever wanted for her, but— It's also a fundamental difference between them: in worldview, in character, in imagination. As much as Cary needed to talk to Kerry about this— She isn't the right person to talk to about it. David is.

But should he do that? David took Cary’s words so much to heart. Would his own doubts risk making David's situation more unstable? Or would it help him feel less alone, the way the Davids have helped Cary and Kerry feel less alone?

"Perhaps you're right," Cary says, accepting Kerry's answer on the matter for now. "We are what we are. But we still need to figure out how we work as a system now. I don't think we ever truly tried to figure that out with our old system. We simply accepted things as they were."

"Maybe we should ask Syd to help us," Kerry offers. "She can tell us if we're one soul or two."

"That certainly is the direct option," Cary allows. "As scientists, it's always preferable to have a confirmable test to rest a hypothesis on. If we are two minds with one soul, then Syd's powers will reveal that. And if we each have our own soul—" He pauses. "Then presumably one of us would swap with Syd and the other would remain behind, the way Lenny and Amy's swap worked."

"And if we share a soul, then obviously you're not going to die before me," Kerry says, pleased at the idea. "Because we're like the Davids and we'll always be together."

That thought would be more reassuring if Cary didn't have so many concerns about what kind of life he'll have if his physical body fails but his mind and soul survive. It seems likely that in such a scenario— He would become an identity like any in a typical, co-conscious DID system. He'd be trapped in Kerry's body for the rest of their shared life, completely lose his autonomy—

He hoped talking to Kerry about all this would ease his worries, but it's only made them worse.

Four hours a day. He wouldn't be a passenger, he'd be a prisoner. No wonder the Davids figured out a way to share together. But their physical appearances all match their body. If one day Cary has to share Kerry's body with her—

It's too much for him to deal with right now. And hopefully it's all very far in the future. They have to deal with the practical concerns, the immediate problems.

"When I went inside before," Cary begins. "The first time was— Extremely difficult for both of us." A massive understatement. Their physical union was incomplete, and then when Cary finally got all of himself inside, it was terribly uncomfortable for both of them — so much that Cary had to go to their inner world for relief and had trouble getting back out again.

"The second time wasn't so bad."

"You weren't conscious," Cary points out. "And once I went inside you, neither was I. When we woke up, you had to pull me out."

"Maybe we just need to practice," Kerry offers. "And just because I liked to stay inside doesn't mean you have to. I want us to have healthy multiplicity like the Davids. But we can't figure out what that is if we stay apart so much that— That we're hurting our system. We're hurting our system, Cary. That's bad!"

He can hardly deny that she's right.

"I know you're scared," Kerry says, sympathetic. "But I'm outside now, and that means I have to take care of you."

"Does it?" Cary asks, genuinely.

"Obviously," Kerry says. "Everything's reversed. So I'll just do what you did, and you do what I did, and we'll be fine."

"I don't think I can accept that," Cary protests.

"Why not?" Kerry asks, frustrated. "Everything was fine before."

"Everything wasn't fine," Cary insists. "I know we thought it was, but— Everything that's happened— What we had together, it was— It wasn't healthy." How could it have been healthy for Kerry to only be outside of him for four hours a day? How could he have allowed himself to hold her back for the sake of his own selfish dependence? "I shouldn't have needed that monster's cruelty to compel me to help you learn to be in the world."

"I liked how we were," Kerry says, upset. "I felt safe and loved and— And I kept you safe. Our system was perfect."

"You didn't have anyone but me," Cary replies. "By doing everything for both of us— I made you completely dependent. You didn't even understand yourself, you told me that."

"I didn't need to! And I didn't have to deal with all this stupid outside stuff and bodies and—" Her anger breaks and her chin crumples.

"Oh, Kerry," Cary says, upset himself now. The last thing he wanted was to make her cry. "I'm so sorry. I—" He doesn't know what to do. He's the one who upset her, and he can't even comfort her inside him the way he used to.

Nothing is the way it used to be. And as painful as that is, he's faced worse hardships, greater confusion. Kerry hasn't. She doesn't just not know how to be outside. By sheltering her from conflict, by soothing her at the slightest hint of upset— He prevented her from learning how to manage her own feelings, to protect herself beyond— Physical violence.

He just wanted to protect her, to keep her safe from all the terrible things he suffered. But what he did was keep her from truly growing up.

He needs to correct that now, but— He can't just throw her in the deep end and expect her to figure everything out at once. He thinks about those magazines and all the questions she had. They went over them together, but it quickly became clear that he tried to give her too much too soon. She lacked the context to even begin to understand. They were just as opaque to her as the clothing store and Ptonomy's fashion advice.

For decades, Cary taught her everything he learned, so she would know everything he knows. So she would be prepared to deal with the world. But knowledge wasn't enough. Kerry can only develop as a person with personal experience, and Cary can't give her that. He can only let it happen. But it breaks his heart to see her hurting, and it smashes his heart to pieces to be the reason for her tears.

Maybe— Maybe he needs to talk to Amy, too. Maybe he and Kerry need to talk to Ptonomy together. Cary feels hopelessly out of his depth. But worse than that— He's hurting their system. He's letting his fear hurt both of them, just like he let his fear hurt Kerry for decades. If he's honest with himself, his fear has always hurt both of them. For all the work he's done, for all the so-called wisdom he's shared with David and Syd— He's never been able to fully overcome the traumas he suffered. He's let fear hold him back as much as it's held back Kerry. And now Kerry simply wants to repeat everything he's done to her, and she can't see how wrong it is, because— It's all she's ever known.

'I hate to interrupt,' Oliver says, his thoughts in Cary's head. 'But Ptonomy wanted me to let you know we'll be returning to the lab soon.'

'Thank you,' Cary thinks back. 'We'll— Be up soon.'

Cary sighs. As much as Kerry might want to be the caretaker in their relationship, the fact is that responsibility is still Cary's, no matter what else has changed. She's simply doing what he taught her to do. As with the Davids, healthy behavior has to be seen to be learned. What's been modelled that he can use to salvage this situation?

"You're right," he tells Kerry, bracing himself. "About healthy multiplicity and practicing and— Working together to figure out how we can both be happy. I shouldn't never have let my fear keep us apart. I love you and— You love me. That's what matters."

Kerry's chin stops wobbling. "You mean it?"

"I do," Cary says. "I don't want to hurt our system anymore. Can you please forgive me?"

"Of course I forgive you," Kerry says, breaking into a teary smile. Perhaps he didn't do a completely terrible job raising Kerry.

She throws her arms open wide, and Cary knows it's not just for a hug.

He can do this. He just needs to practice. And he doesn't have to stay inside forever. Even if it's difficult, Kerry will help him, and it will get easier to be inside, just like being outside is getting easier for Kerry.

He has to trust that it will get easier. He has to trust Kerry or their system will never heal.

"Okay," he agrees. "Just— Give me a moment."

Kerry lowers her arms, but looks at him with eager expectation. In truth he feels the same, the need to unite is so strong. But he's afraid despite that. He's never done well with physical pain, even discomfort. But he'll do anything for Kerry. He took her wounds for her. He can do this for her, for their system, whether they're truly a DID system or not.

'Oliver, tell Ptonomy I'll be unavailable for a while,' Cary thinks to Oliver. 'Kerry will bring up some snacks for everyone.'

'Snacks, wonderful,' Oliver thinks back. 'What are we having?'

'Cheese on toast and fruit. I ordered your favorite,' Cary says. 'Cinnamon persimmons.'

'Do I like persimmons?' Oliver asks.

Cary's heart pangs. 'Very much,' he assures Oliver.

'Excellent,' Oliver says. 'I look forward to them.'

Cary's very glad Oliver is here for this. No matter how deep inside of Kerry he is, Oliver will always be able to hear him. Oliver was a lifeline for Kerry at the beginning, and he's a lifeline for Cary now.

In the end, it's easy. He just has to relax and follow the pull, just like he did when he found Kerry in the red-lit halls of Division 3, her teeth chattering as she stood in the thrall of the monk's virus. But once he's inside, even though the pain of separation is gone, everything still feels wrong. He was never meant to fit into Kerry this way. He grieves the loss of everything they had, of everything he was for her, for himself, and lets himself go deeper until he doesn't feel anything at all.

Chapter 90: Day 11: You can have my cherries. (David)

Chapter Text

They're taking the elevator back to the lab when Oliver presses the button for another floor.

"Oliver?" Syd asks, concerned.

"Everything's okay," Ptonomy tells her. "Oliver and I have to make an extra stop. Kerry and Cary are in the cafeteria, and— They need our help. Syd, can you take the Davids back to the lab and wait for us?"

David's still shaky from all the session work and Dvd's possession, but— If Kerry and Cary need them—

'Cary— We have to go down there,' Divad thinks.

'We have to help Kerry,' Dvd thinks.

"No, we— We want to help," David says, relaying for his brothers and himself.

"Are you sure?" Ptonomy asks.

'Yes,' Dvd and David each think. "Yes," David says, feeling— Strikingly full of agreement. He looks at his brothers. They might all be struggling with a lot right now, but they all feel the same way about Cary and Kerry.

Yesterday, Divad said Kerry was their real foundation, and maybe she is. David couldn't have made it this far without Kerry or Cary. None of them could have. His system owes both of them so much, if there's anything they can do to help—

They reach the cafeteria and find Kerry. Two of the cafeteria staff are with her, and she's crying.

"Where's Cary?" David asks, looking around.

"Inside me," Kerry sobs. "I made him go and now—" She hiccups. "Now he's gone!"

"You can't hear him?" Ptonomy asks. "Can you feel him?"

"Sort of," Kerry admits. "But— It felt better and then it hurt and then— I don't know. I don't know how to be outside and Cary doesn't know how to be inside but it's not supposed to be like this." She sniffs and wipes at her eyes.

"Oliver?" Ptonomy prompts.

Oliver listens. "Cary's resting, but dissociating very deeply. Quite similar to when David goes away."

"We stayed apart so long," Kerry mourns. "What if we broke?"

"How long has it been?" Ptonomy asks.

"Since the monk died," Kerry admits. "We were supposed to sleep together last night but Cary didn't want to. But it hurt so much. I thought it hurt because being outside was scary but Cary hurt, too."

"Okay," Ptonomy soothes. "I spoke with Cary about this. I think— You were apart for a little too long. And being inside is very difficult for Cary, so— He's doing what he has to for the sake of your system, so the pain you're both feeling can stop. Does that make sense?"

Kerry sniffs again. "I guess. But if he's inside, he's supposed to talk to me. He's supposed to—"

"Your system can't work the way it used to," Ptonomy reminds her. "Just like the Davids. You need to figure out how you work now and that's going to take time, and you have to do it together."

David feels a little like he's having an out of body experience. Of course this is how Ptonomy's been handling things for his system, but— It's different, seeing him help someone else the same way. It's surreal, but— Weirdly soothing.

"But we can deal with all of that later," Ptonomy continues. "It doesn't hurt anymore, right?"

Kerry shakes her head, agreeing.

"Then we’ll let Cary rest so you can both heal," Ptonomy says. "Oliver said you were getting everyone a snack?"

"Um, yeah," Kerry says, and the task seems to help her, give her something to focus on. She looks up at David. "Amy said to get you, um, cheese on toast. And fruit."

David recognizes the sick day comfort food. The thought of Amy eases something in him. She loves him so much, she always has.

'Yeah, til she threw us away,' Dvd grumbles.

David looks at Divad, curious.

"I don't know how I feel," Divad admits. "Can we talk about this later? Ptonomy's making us talk to Amy anyway."

"We are definitely talking about this later," David tells both of them. He felt such harmony with them for Kerry and Cary. He wants to feel the same harmony for Amy. And maybe— When he can finally work out his feelings for Syd—

"Can we just focus on Kerry?" Dvd says, annoyed.

"Sorry," David says. He really needs to stop letting his mind wander. What was Kerry saying?

"Cheese on toast," Divad reminds him.

Right. "I love cheese on toast," David tells Kerry. He sits down opposite her. "Have you ever tried it?"

Kerry shakes her head. "It's like a sandwich, right? I've had sandwiches. They're chewy." Kerry wrinkles her nose. She’s not a fan of chewy.

"They're a little different," David says. He wants to cheer Kerry up. She really liked eating cherry pie with him yesterday, maybe— "Is the food ready?" he asks the cafeteria servers.

"We'll bring it right out," one of them says, and returns to the kitchen.

"Cheese on toast isn't chewy," David tells Kerry. "It's crisp and warm and gooey."

"Is it sweet?" Kerry asks. "You like a lot of sweet stuff."

"I do," David admits. "It’s not sweet. Amy used to make this for me when— When I felt sick."

It wasn't just Amy who made it. It must have also been Mom.

"Yeah," Divad sighs. 'If I'm stuck with David hearing everything, I might as well just say things aloud.'

'Mom made it better,' Dvd grumbles.

"Mom taught Amy to make it, they made it exactly the same," Divad chides.

"David?" Kerry prompts.

"Sorry," David says, trying to focus. "Um, Divad and Dvd are finally letting me hear their thoughts, so— It's a little noisy in here." He points at his head. Their head. His head. Their head? Whatever. "We were supposed to, um, make our foundation together, but—" He looks at Syd, and she gives him a little smile. It makes David feel a lot of things all at once.

Dvd glares furiously at her. No thoughts, everything he's conveying is physical.

"She's trying," Divad tells Dvd. 'We've all hurt David. We have to forgive each other so we can forgive ourselves.' But he looks at David and his eyes fill with guilt.

"Oh!" Kerry says. "Oliver, you're supposed to send us the relay."

"We all thought it best to wait," Oliver says. "Would you like it now?"

"Yeah, of course," Kerry says. "If Cary's just gonna sleep—" She looks hurt, but rallies. "I wanna hear the Davids."

"Davids?" Ptonomy asks.

David doesn't even have to ask. He can feel the same harmony he felt before. It feels like— When they were in the amplification tank and everything opened up. "Of course," he says. "We want Kerry to hear us."

Kerry brightens, pleased. David smiles back, and Dvd and Divad are both reluctantly pleased.

"Relaying," Oliver says. "May I join you? The cheese on toast does sound good."

"Let's eat here," Ptonomy says. "Syd?"

Oliver sits next to David, and Syd sits next to Kerry. Ptonomy brings over three chairs, two for Divad and Dvd and one for himself. As soon as everyone is settled, the server returns with their food.

"Melon?" the server asks.

"That's Syd's," Kerry directs. "Oliver gets the one with persimmons. Me and David have cherries and grapes."

The plates are distributed. "And the fifth plate?" the server asks.

"I'm afraid we'll have to send that back," Ptonomy says. "Thank you. And please bring us four waters."

"Of course."

"This is very thoughtful, Kerry, thank you," Syd says, pleased with the melon.

"Cary helped me," Kerry says. "And Amy. We thought— If we have a bunch of little meals instead of three big ones, everybody gets to eat more than once a day." She looks at David, proud and approval-seeking.

"Thank you," David says, genuinely grateful. It does make him feel better, and not just because he gets to eat more than once a day, but— Because they all care about him so much that they thought to do this for him, for his brothers— And Amy knew just what to get him. Because even though she wasn't at the session, she was watching through the mainframe, watching over him, doing everything she could to help.

She's watching now. And that's— It's okay that she's hearing everything, that she knows all the things he's been struggling with, that his system has been struggling with. Knowing she knows— Makes him feel better. Because he knows she loves him.

All because of— Cheese on toast and some fruit. He takes a napkin and wipes his eyes, and then realizes— He's not the only one affected.

'Amy,' Divad thinks, yearning. He's staring at David's plate, not thinking but— Maybe he's remembering?

And Dvd— He must be remembering, too. He remembers everything, after all.

"David, that was so nice," Kerry says, earnestly. "I like Amy a lot, too. She's helping me and Cary with our system. I wasn't sure about her at first, but— She's definitely my friend. But you're still my friend, too. I don't think there's a limit."

"There's no limit," David agrees. He picks up a piece of toast and Kerry mirrors him. They bite together, and David savors the crispness of the toast, the pleasantly salty, fatty taste of the melted cheese. It tastes like home, like love. It's like— The savory equivalent of cherry pie.

"This does not taste like cherries," Kerry tells him, with her mouth full. She makes a face. "It's kinda pokey."

"Try a smaller bite," David says, fondly amused. Kerry had trouble with the cherry pie crust, too, but she really liked the soft, gooey cherries.

He puts down the toast and picks up a cherry. Fresh cherries. He hasn't had fresh cherries in years. Clockworks always had cherry pie but that wasn't the same. This one is deep red and shiny, just like cherries should be. He puts it into his mouth and bites down, breaking the skin so the juices burst onto his tongue.

A memory comes back to him, one he hasn't thought of in— He doesn't know how long. But it's so strong it catches him by surprise. Sitting at the kitchen counter, slicing open cherries and digging out the pits so Amy could use them for a pie, but he kept eating them instead of putting them into the mixing bowl.

"That was Mom," Divad says, softly. "Mom made the pies, not Amy."

"Oh," David says, jarred back to the present. At first he's upset, but— "The rest of it is real?"

"I can't see the actual memory, but— We remember doing the same thing, but with Mom," Divad says.

"Amy never made pies?" David asks.

"She helped Mom, but— After Mom died—" Divad looks sad. "We didn't want them anymore. Pie or cherries."

"So cherries—" David starts. "Cherries made us think of Mom?"

"They still make us think of her," Dvd admits.

"You forgot Mom," Divad says. "But then— You started eating cherries again. They made you happy again, like they used to."

David doesn't know what kind of— Semantic or experiential or—

"It's like the poems," Kerry realizes. "Oliver's weird poems. Cary said they were all Oliver had left, after he forgot everything, but— He still had them because there were so many strong memories connected to them. And now that Oliver's starting to remember, the poems are how he's remembering again. That's what happened at breakfast."

"But my real memories are gone," David says, and that undeniable fact still makes him grieve.

"That was mostly a real memory, right?" Kerry says. "And you know what your Mom looks like now, so— Just imagine the memory with her."

"Give it a try," Ptonomy encourages. "Take another cherry but don’t bite down yet. Close your eyes and picture the memory. Picture your mom in the kitchen with you. Amy would have been sitting next to you, helping you eat up all those cherries, right?"

"Right," David echoes. He puts another cherry in his mouth and closes his eyes.

"Picture the kitchen," Ptonomy says, in a lulling tone. "The flour on the table. The rolling pin, the crust. The color of the mixing bowl. What color was it?"

It was— Blue. The bowl was blue.

"Maybe it's a nice summer day," Ptonomy continues. "Morning or afternoon?"

Morning. Early, the sunlight bright and new. Dad bought the cherries on the way back from his night work at the observatory. He would bring back bags of cherries overflowing with shiny red. David loved them. He can't remember his father's face, but he remembers the bags.

"You know what he looks like now, too," Ptonomy reminds him. "Think about the photos. Remember their faces and put them back."

Put them back. It's not Amy, Amy's beside him on a kitchen stool. Mom is on the other side of the counter, rolling the crust. There's a ticking clock on the wall with a drawing of a sunflower. The windows are open, and there's clean, fresh air coming in, the sound of the breeze ruffling the leaves outside, morning birds calling, twittering and raven-caws.

"Your dad was there, tired from work but he loved you, he wanted to stay up to be with you. He drank coffee, right?"

Coffee. He smells coffee. The cherry is warm in his mouth.

"Remember their faces," Ptonomy says. "Your mom, your dad, smiling at you and Amy. Everyone together. You pick up another cherry to cut open, but it looks so good, you just have to eat it. So you put it in your mouth and bite down. Bite down."

David bites, and the taste of warm cherry juice fills his mouth. He smells coffee. He sees his parents, he sees Amy, he sees—

The memory. It feels so intense, so vivid, so real. Even though it's reconstructed— It's a reconstruction of his truth instead of Farouk's truth.

But it's still not the whole truth. His brothers were there with him. They were— Sharing. They were sharing the cherries together. So he wouldn't have seen them, he would have— Felt them.

But he's not ready to put that feeling into that memory. After what happened with Dvd, that's the last thing he wants.

"You said you didn't hate me," Dvd pouts.

"I don't," David tells him. But the feeling of someone else inside him— It's not a good feeling and he doesn't want it in the memory.

'Fuck the shit beetle,' Dvd thinks, upset. 'Fuck him fuck him fuck him.' He stands up and walks over to an empty booth and sits facing away from them.

"Divad, could you go sit with him?" Ptonomy asks. "No one sits alone."

"I'll try," Divad says. He joins Dvd at the booth. 'Look, I know it's awful—'

'It's the worst,' Dvd thinks, glumly.

'Ptonomy's helping us fix this,' Divad tells him. 'Look, I fucked up with this, too. And David wasn't even in danger. I just wanted to be heard.'

'David wasn't in danger today,' Dvd thinks, sad and stubborn.

'He was all the other times you blew shit up and ran off with our body,' Divad thinks back. 'When all this started, what did Ptonomy say? All we have to do is give David space to heal. It's our job to get ready for when David's ready. Let them get him there.'

'I know,' Dvd sighs. 'I still hate it.'

'I hate it too,' Divad admits. 'But it's working so far. He's coming back to us. We're never giving up on him again, right?'

'You'd better not,' Dvd warns, but then— 'You know he can hear us.'

'Yeah,' Divad sighs. 'Look, no matter how hard we tried— We've let things slip. Ptonomy wouldn't have made us do this if he didn't think David was ready. David's gonna learn everything eventually. At least this way we have damage control.' A pause. 'And it's better than letting the shit beetle tell him.'

'Fuck no, that is not happening,' Dvd thinks, fiercely. 'He's not gonna turn us into one of his truths, I will burn this world down before I let him do that.'

'Didn't we just talk about you blowing shit up?' Divad thinks.

'Yeah, yeah,' Dvd thinks, and David can't see them from this angle, but he knows Dvd just rolled his eyes.

"Boy, this relay thing is a lot easier now that you can hear everything," Kerry tells David. "It was really hard to not tell you their thoughts."

'C'mon, stop sulking so we can keep this thing moving,' Divad says.

'Ugh, fine,' Dvd grumbles, and then they both walk back over. They sit down, glance at David, but say nothing.

Okay, then. David supposes it's only fair. They've certainly tried to give him space to work out his thoughts and feelings even though they heard everything. As long as there's nothing he needs to respond to— He should do the same.

"David," Ptonomy says, drawing his attention. "That memory we just made? It's just as real as any memory."

"I don't understand," David says, frowning. "I mean, some of it was real, but—"

"Oh, I know this one!" Kerry says. "All our long-term memories are stored in fragments. When we remember something, we combine all the fragments we need in our short term memory. So every time we remember something, we make the memory."

David tries to take that in. "But I remember things. I mean, not all of them are real, but—"

"All memories are constructed," Ptonomy says. "Unless you have a mutant power like I used to, each time you remember, that's an act of creation. Farouk destroyed the long-term memory of your parents' faces, so when you put the memory together, you couldn't fill in those blanks. But now you can. By remembering your parents now, using your new memory of the photos, you healed that memory of them. And that means you can heal all the memories you have of them."

David leans back, stunned. "It can't be that easy."

"We just did it," Ptonomy points out. "No white room, no amplification tank. Just a few sensory aids and some help from Amy. She fed me the details you needed because she was there. Your brothers were there, too. Let them help you fill in those blanks and see how far it takes you."

David takes the last cherry from his plate and puts it in his mouth. He remembers the kitchen. He remembers Amy beside him, the blue mixing bowl, Mom making crust, Dad drinking coffee— And he bites down.

He remembers them. He remembers.

Like Oliver's poems. The connections are there. If he uses them— He can make the memories his own again. He can make them real again. He can do that.

"You can have my cherries," Kerry says, pleased. "Can I have your grapes?"

David gives a faint nod.

Chapter 91: Day 11: Let's start with crisis management. (David)

Chapter Text

When they get back to the lab, David goes right to Amy and gives her the hug of her life.

"Thank you," he says, holding her tight, feeling her hold him. He feels— So grateful to be alive, to have her back. Getting her back helped him choose to live, and now having that memory— Healing that memory—

"I love you," Amy says, and it feels simple and true.

David keeps holding her. He still feels so many things when he thinks about Amy. Regret and shame, longing and love, and even some anger. But he feels a kind of peace, too, and that's new and precious to him.

What happened happened. He doesn't want to hold on to that pain, to hurt himself with it, and he doesn't have to. Those raw emotions he felt before— He feels like— Those wounds are finally healing.

His memory, his system, his trauma— They're healing. They're actually—

"I love you," he says back. He loves Amy and Amy loves him. That makes all the rest fade away.

He finally lets her go, and she smiles up at him.

"So, um," David says, self-consciousness returning to him. He glances around the lab and sees Lenny cleaning herself with a lint roller. "What've you guys been doing all morning?"

Lenny stops rolling, then starts again. "Stuff," she says.

"Uh, okay," David says, sensing her reluctance.

"David, it's time for you to step out," Ptonomy says. "It's Divad's turn with your system's body."

"Oh!" David glances at the clock. "Right. Um."

"It's okay," Ptonomy says. "Take a moment. Do a check-in. How are you feeling?"

David focuses on his body. His stomach, his posture, his heart, his breathing. "Good. Calm."

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "Is there anything you want to do before you step out?"

David thinks. He ate, he hugged Kerry and Amy, they even took a stroll around the halls after their snack. With the relay on, he can still talk directly to everyone but Syd. And if it's Divad's turn next, that means he'll have Dvd. He feels bad about what happened in the garden, even though he knows it's not his fault. He doesn't want to make Dvd feel rejected. Maybe they can spend some time together, just the two of them—

"I'm ready," he decides.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Divad, Dvd, let's sit together."

They convene at the sitting area. David and his brothers take the sofa, and Oliver and Ptonomy take a loveseat.

"David, please step out so Divad can step in," Ptonomy instructs.

David lets his body relax against the sofa, and then slips out of it. Once again, there's a moment when all three of them are outside of their body together. David wants to linger in that moment, to not be physically separated from both his brothers. But Divad goes into their body and the moment passes.

It's funny how, when he's outside of it, it's easy to think of his body as theirs. He sits down between his brothers.

'I really hate this crown,' Divad thinks, rubbing at his— Their head.

'Oh, now he hates the crown,' Dvd thinks.

"It's time for the three of you to make your shared foundation," Ptonomy tells them. He gives Divad their system notebook. "David, Dvd, please open your mental notebooks."

"Oh, um." David feels like the student who missed the first day of class.

"Here," Dvd says, handing him a notebook and a pen. "You can use Divad's. Unless you want your own?"

Divad's using his notebook, David can use Divad's. "This is fine," David says, and opens it. He looks at the pages, and Divad's neat handwriting on the list of ideas, the relationship guidance. He wishes he could rip out the page and add it to his collection, but it’s just a mental construct.

"Let's try this again. The three of you are going to talk about all the ideas you shared with each other, and you’re going to use those ideas to make your system’s foundation and any mantras or other tools you feel will help you heal. Is everyone ready for that?"

They all answer yes.

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "Remember, you all have to agree on the ideas you choose, even if you aren’t able to believe them yet. You have to commit to them in your hearts for yourselves and each other. So let's get started. Review the list of ideas."

David looks down at the notebook.

We're all Davids.
We're all people.
We're brothers.
We're all going to get better.
We have to stay alive for each other.
Our mind is our own.
We belong to ourselves.
We've lost things we'll never get back. But we're here and we're not alone.
We share everything.
We have healthy multiplicity.
We forgive each other.
We accept each other.
We make decisions together.
We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do.
We don't stay angry on purpose.
We love each other.

"These are all good ideas," Ptonomy continues. "But there's a lot of meaning behind them, and that meaning is going to be different for each of you. And that's okay, that's normal. What's important is that the ideas you choose have enough common ground, and also that there aren't any major conflicts. Now, there seems to be four types of ideas here. Some are about identity: who you are as individuals and as a system. There's relationship ideas: how the three of you treat each other and work together. There's how you handle conflict or stressful situations. And finally there are ideas about your system recovery, about healing from the trauma you endured. Does all that make sense?"

They all agree.

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "To make things easier, we're going to take each category one by one and discuss the ideas in them. If you want to change the ideas or add to them, just say so. This will be your shared foundation. Be honest with each other and with yourselves."

Ptonomy pauses, letting that sink in.

"Let's start with crisis management," Ptonomy says. "Your system had a crisis earlier this morning. Dvd, please tell me what happened."

Dvd frowns, unhappy, but makes the effort. "I talked to Syd and she pissed me off. I just— Wanted to get away from her, from all of this."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "And how did you handle that?"

"I tried to take David and leave," Dvd mumbles. "I just wanted to keep you safe," he tells David, visibly willing him to understand.

"That's what you've done in the past," Ptonomy says. "When David was in danger, when your system's body was in danger, you did whatever it took to remove him or your body from that danger."

"Yeah," Dvd says, rallying. "That's my job. I keep us safe."

"David, how do you feel about that?" Ptonomy asks. "Do you feel safe?"

David realizes he's wrapped his arms around himself, protective. "Um, no," he admits.

"What?" Dvd says, upset.

"I'm sorry," David tells him. "But being taken over— I know you just want to protect me, but—" From the moment Dvd first told him he does that— It doesn't make David feel safe, it makes him terrified. And that it might happen when he's already in a stressful situation—

"The whole point is to get you out of a stressful situation," Dvd says. "People were hurting you, hurting us, I can't let that happen!"

So that's the choice David has, between being hurt by Dvd or someone else?

Ptonomy holds up a hand. "Okay, that’s enough," he says. "There are three ideas about handling a crisis in this list. 'We have to stay alive for each other', 'we make decisions together', and 'we try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do'. Dvd, what do you think about those ideas?"

"I guess they're okay," Dvd says.

"Just okay?" Ptonomy says. "C'mon, really think about them. David put that first idea in. Is it important to you that David stays alive for you and Divad?"

Dvd and Divad both blanch. They look at each other, then look at David. "Yes," they both say, emphatically.

They didn't think anything. Were they remembering? What were they—

"You hanged us," Divad says, tightly.

He—

Oh god. "I— I didn't know you were there," David says, horrified. Oh god, he hanged them.

'And then he tried to kill us because he knew we were there,' Dvd thinks, deeply upset, and that just makes it even worse.

It was supposed to be suicide, but it was murder. God, he's a monster.

"David," Ptonomy says, firmly. "You're not a monster. You were in incredible pain and you were desperate for a way out. Just like Dvd was in pain and desperate for a way out. And Divad's made the same kind of mistake."

He hanged them. They were inside him and he— God, he hanged their body, their body. How can they even stand him? How can they want to be with him at all? What he did to Syd was bad enough, but what he did to them

"David," Ptonomy says, urgently.

'He's ruining this,' Divad thinks. 'I knew he couldn't—'

And then he— God, he begged Clark to kill him. And they heard everything. They heard every awful thought and they couldn't not hear it, no wonder Dvd was so furious with him, no wonder they— They tried to escape him, he was hurting them so much. God, he must have hurt everyone so much, and Amy, and Syd, and—

'I don't have to hurt him and I never did,' Divad thinks, chanting. 'I don't have to hurt him and I never did.'

"David," Dvd says, grabbing David by the arms and shaking him. "You gotta stop!"

David stares at him, breathing hard.

"You were sick, okay?" Dvd tells him, still holding his arms. "You were really sick. You didn't know about us, and then when you did— You couldn't accept us. And it was awful, okay? It was beyond awful, but can you please not break yourself all over again?"

David looks into Dvd's desperate eyes.

'Please,' Dvd thinks, and it feels like he's thinking it with every fiber of his being.

"Um," David says. "I think, um— I need a break."

"David, good job acknowledging your limits," Ptonomy says. "Divad, Dvd, can you give us a few minutes? I'd like to speak to David alone."

His brothers get up and leave, Dvd with obvious reluctance.

"That was pretty rough," Ptonomy says. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," David admits. He feels so ashamed of— Everything. And the shame makes him want to hurt himself so much, but hurting himself is why he's ashamed, and—

"That's the lesson, remember?" Ptonomy says. "That's the trap Farouk built for you. He wants you to hurt yourself. Don't hurt yourself for him."

How can he do anything else? What he did to them—

"You weren't trying to hurt them," Ptonomy says. "You were trying to make the pain stop. You were in unspeakable pain, David. When you hanged yourself, when you said that to Clark, you were in unspeakable pain. You were suicidal. Even with DID, that isn't murder. You didn't attack Dvd and Divad, you didn't mean to hurt them. You didn't know about them, and then when you did, they weren't real to you. You're upset now because they're real to you now. That's a good thing, just like it's a good thing that you got upset about sharing your body with them."

It's a good thing?

"It is," Ptonomy says. "I know it doesn't feel good, but it's extremely good that you're starting to process these things. It means you're not in denial anymore. You're starting to truly accept that you're part of a system."

Processing. He's processing?

"You're accepting the truth and you're processing what that means," Ptonomy agrees. "You're recognizing that your life has always been shared, and that's a lot to take in. You thought you were alone, but Dvd and Divad were with you every step of the way. That was very hard for them. But they understand. You were forced to forget them. That wasn't your choice and it wasn't your fault. And now that you know, now that you're back together again, you can choose not to hurt your system. You don't want to hurt your system, right?"

"No," David says, mustering his voice again.

"You don't want to hurt your brothers and you don't want to hurt yourself," Ptonomy soothes. "They don't want to hurt your system either. So if you all help each other, if if you all work together, the pain will stop."

The pain will stop. David holds on to that. If they all work together, the pain will stop.

"Maybe— We should add that to the list," David says, strained.

"How about you tell that to your brothers?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods, then remembers that Ptonomy can't see him. "Okay."

Ptonomy waves Divad and Dvd back over. They sit down and look at David.

"Um, sorry about that," David says. He got a little— Unsteady on his feet. Again.

"That was a hell of a wobble," Dvd says, but he's relieved.

'Thank god for Ptonomy,' Divad thinks. 'I almost fucked this up.'

"But you didn't," Ptonomy says. "You had the feeling but you pushed back against it. Good job."

"The feeling?" David asks.

"David, just like you feel the need to hurt yourself when you feel ashamed, Divad feels the need to hurt you," Ptonomy says.

Divad stares at Ptonomy, betrayed. 'How could you just say that?'

"David already knows," Ptonomy says. "Just like he knows that Dvd feels the need to hurt you. All three of you feel the need to punish yourselves or each other or both. But it doesn't matter which of you is the target. It doesn't matter what reasons you have for your anger or your shame. All three of you have been trapped in this cycle of abuse and the only way to break it is to forgive yourselves and each other. You need to accept what's happened, process your feelings, and let go of your pain, just like David did with Amy."

David's startled to suddenly be a good example. But— Ptonomy's right. He and Amy went through all of that, and now— The peace he felt being with her, loving her—

That's what forgiveness feels like. True forgiveness.

"Your whole system can know that feeling," Ptonomy tells them. "If you do the work, all three of you can feel that love for yourselves and each other. Just like all three of you felt love for Kerry and Cary together. Think how powerful that feeling would be."

David and his brothers look at each other. David tries to imagine— The forgiveness he felt for Amy, but felt— Three times over. For himself? For each other.

It's hard to imagine. It's hard to believe he deserves that. But his brothers deserve it. After everything he put them through—

"You deserve it, too," Dvd tells him. "Maybe— I can believe it for you?"

David gives Dvd a grateful look. And David keeps forgetting— He can touch Dvd. He reaches out and Dvd takes his hand. It's a lot easier to be outside his body when he's with Dvd.

'It's high school all over again,' Divad sighs.

'Back off,' Dvd thinks, glaring at Divad.

'High school?' David wonders.

"Let's get back on track," Ptonomy says. "'We have to stay alive for each other', 'we make decisions together', and 'we try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do'. How do the three of you feel about those ideas now?"

David thinks they're definitely very good ideas.

'Yeah, no shit,' Dvd thinks.

'We need them,' Divad thinks.

"And David, you wanted to add one more?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yeah," David says. "If we help each other and work together, the pain will stop."

"Divad, Dvd?" Ptonomy prompts.

"Add it," Divad says. 'We really need that one.'

"Yeah," Dvd agrees.

"OK, go ahead and write those down," Ptonomy tells them. They do. "Now we need to bring those ideas together. When a crisis happens, what do you want to focus on to get through it?"

'Hmm, I guess— Making decisions together is part of working together,' Divad thinks. 'We don't need both.'

"Okay, let's cross that one out," Ptonomy says. "Dvd, David? Any thoughts?"

David knows staying alive is important, but— The shame and despair— Survival doesn't help him escape that. Love does.

"The shit beetle doesn't want our body dead anyway," Dvd says. "He wants to fuck with our heads."

"So we need to stick together," David says. "We need— To remember that we love each other."

"We need to remember not to hurt our system," Divad says. "That's been helping me and we all need it. We don’t have to hurt each other and we never did."

Wasn’t Divad just thinking that? If it helped him— His words feel more powerful than just ‘trying.’

"Maybe we could use that last part," David says. He doesn’t have to hurt himself and he never did— When he’s feeling ashamed, that could help him. "Is that okay?"

‘He wants my advice,’ Divad thinks, and he looks pleased. ‘And it’s healthy advice—‘ "Yes," he says, firmly.

David gives him a quick smile and then turns back to to his notebook. "If we add that and maybe— If we change 'help' to 'love'—" He tries writing it. We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. Hmm. "But that leaves out the apologizing."

"There’s still ‘we forgive each other’" Divad points out. "Which category is that in?" he asks Ptonomy.

"That’s a relationship idea," Ptonomy says. "But there's nothing wrong with using it twice. Do you feel apologizing will help you manage a crisis?"

‘That’s more of an— After the crisis thing,’ David thinks. ‘When things are calmer.’

"Dvd?" Ptonomy prompts. "What do you think?"

"Apologies don’t mean shit," Dvd declares. ‘I don’t care if Divad apologizes, I care if he hurts David again.’

"Apologies are very important," Ptonomy counters. "But you’re right, in a crisis it’s our actions that matter most. If Divad’s words are more effective, your system should use them. So does everyone like what you have now?"

‘We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop.’ "Yeah, that feels right," Divad says.

"I like it," Dvd says.

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "So the next time you get scared, or you feel ashamed or angry? These are the words you need to tell yourselves."

It's more of a mantra than a foundation, David thinks.

"That makes sense," Ptonomy says. "The identity and relationship ideas can go into your foundation. The crisis and recovery ideas can be your mantras. And remember, it's okay to keep changing these as long as all three of you agree on the changes together. How about you all give it a try?"

‘We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did,' David thinks, and hears his brothers thinking with him. 'If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop.'

"Wow," David breathes. That felt a lot more powerful than when he does his mantra alone. His brothers are affected, too.

‘I can’t believe all of that yet,’ Divad thinks. ‘But I want to.’

"That’s all you have to do," Ptonomy tells him. "So now lets think about those crisis moments. Dvd, the next time you feel you have to protect David, what are you going to do?"

Dvd looks at David, uncertain.

"You protected David just now," Ptonomy reminds him. "When he's hurting himself, you can't take him away from himself. So how do you do help him?"

"Uh, I— Talk to him?" Dvd tries. ‘I guess I do protect him that way.’

"You talk to him," Ptonomy agrees. "That’s what you need to do every time your system is in danger. Talk to each other and make a decision together. Let’s walk through what happened this morning again, but with your new mantra. Dvd, you sat down and spoke with Syd. But she said things that upset you. Go back to that moment. What do you do when you’re upset with Syd?"

‘Get the hell out,’ Dvd thinks, then tries again. ‘Work together, we have to work together, so— "I could— Tell David to leave?"

"That’s a good start," Ptonomy says. "You need to say how you feel, but then you need to let David say how he feels. David, how do you feel?"

"I don’t want to leave," David says. ‘And I don’t want to leave Syd. I want us to work things out.’

"She’ll hurt us again," Dvd says, annoyed. "We’re not supposed to hurt our system. Being with Syd will hurt us."

"I love her," David says. "Leaving her will hurt our system, too."

"It’ll hurt a lot less," Dvd insists. "We’re not supposed to love other people, it’s too dangerous."

"Love is dangerous," Ptonomy agrees. "The world is full of danger and risk. But we need the world. We need other people in our lives. David needs love to survive, we all do."

"We should be enough for him," Dvd tells Ptonomy. "He has us back and we should be enough."

They’re not, David thinks, even though he feels terrible for thinking it. "I’m sorry."

Dvd is angry and heartbroken. He lets go of David’s hand and crosses his arms.

"Dvd," David pleads. "What we have— Being a system— This is all really new to me. I want us to be close, but— I can’t give up everyone else for us. I need them, too. You need them, Divad needs them. How would you feel if we had to tell Kerry that we could never see her again?"

‘Kerry,’ Dvd thinks, upset. "Kerry’s different."

"And is Cary different, too?" David asks.

"Cary helped us sleep together," Dvd says. "So yeah, he’s different."

"And Ptonomy?" David asks. "He’s helped all of us so much, we wouldn’t be here without him."

Dvd huffs, annoyed. "Then Ptonomy’s different, too!"

David looks to Ptonomy, exasperated. ‘Help?’

"Dvd, what are we different from?" Ptonomy asks.

"All of them," Dvd says, angrily. "Everyone, they’re all the same. They don’t care about us, they hate us, they’re afraid of what we are."

‘Oh, here we go,’ Divad thinks.

"What about Amy?" Ptonomy asks. "Is Amy different?"

‘We thought she was,’ Dvd thinks. ‘I don’t care if David forgave her, David forgives everyone for everything.’

"Kerry hurt you," Ptonomy points out. "She punched you and kicked you in the shins."

"Well, yeah, but— She was trying to protect David," Dvd says.

"Cary made the crown," Ptonomy says. "He’s the one who realized David needed help. He also helped David accept his DID diagnosis. He and Kerry are helping him accept that he’s part of your system."

"So what?" Dvd says, defensive.

"You’ve hurt David, too. And you’ve helped him. So has Divad. So have Syd and Amy. And so has David."

Now Dvd just looks confused. "No, that's—" He falters.

"The world has hurt you," Ptonomy says. "It's hurt your system, and you want to defend your system against that pain. But isolation isn't the answer. You have always been part of the world and all the good and bad things in it. If you focus only on the bad things, you’re the one hurting your system by keeping it away from the good things."

David recognizes some of that. Ptonomy said it to him when— When he felt like he could never be accepted, never be worth anything to anyone. And that’s— It’s just like how he and Divad both do the same thing from two directions.

Dvd rejects the world and— David feels the world should reject him.

‘The world doesn’t want us,’ Dvd thinks. And it feels the same as what David has thought so many times: the world couldn’t want him.

"We’re the same, too," David tells him. And he realizes: when he pulls away from everyone, when he tells himself that— That he’s shameful, that he’s garbage, that he should be thrown away— Isn’t that the same as Dvd saying that they should throw away the world?

"No, it’s—" Dvd falters. "It’s different, I could never think that about you!"

"But it’s the same," David tells him. "If I hurt myself or Divad hurts me, it’s the same. If I isolate myself out of— Disgust— And you isolate me—"

"It’s the same," Ptonomy agrees. "All of those are reactions to the same feelings of shame you all struggle against. The real threat, the real enemy of your system is the shame you feel. And the only cure for that shame is love. Love for each other and for yourselves. Love for other people and their love for you. It's healthy to recognize when you're in pain, but if you let that pain be your world, then you lose the love that can truly help you heal. That's true for David, and it's true for your whole system."

"But—" Dvd starts. "What are we supposed to do, just let them hurt us?"

"Take a look at your notebooks again," Ptonomy says. "Look at what you each wrote about love, about what to do when you don't feel loved."

They all look. In Divad's neat handwriting, David’s notebook says:

Love means giving each other affection and support, and treating each other with trust, honesty, and respect.

If someone says they love me but I don't feel loved, we should talk out small problems.
If the problems are big, we should get help.
If the other person won't stop hurting me, I should reject them.

"The world is full of all kinds of people," Ptonomy continues. "There are people we can trust to love and protect us. People like Kerry and Cary, like Amy. Sometimes they make mistakes that hurt us, but when they hurt us, they suffer with us. At the other end, there are people who only care about themselves, who take pleasure in our pain. Farouk and Walter are like that. Most people are somewhere in between, and everyone makes mistakes, everyone struggles to make the right choices for themselves and the people they care about."

'David trusts the wrong people,' Divad thinks. 'He trusted Benny and Lenny. He trusted Farouk and he trusted Syd.'

"He did," Ptonomy agrees. "He needs you and Dvd to help him protect your system from the people who won't stop hurting you. But Lenny isn't Benny. Syd isn't Future Syd, and neither of them is Farouk. Lenny and Syd are both getting help, just like your system is. They're trying to get better because they love you and want to be with you without hurting you."

'Lenny's getting help?' David wonders, looking over to where she's sitting with Amy and Kerry. They're sitting at the table, but they're listening to the relay, to what Divad and Ptonomy say aloud.

"For her detachment syndrome," Ptonomy reminds him. "But also for what Farouk did to her."

Lenny looks back at them, then looks away. David wants to go to her, to talk to her and see if he can help her even a fraction of how she's helped him.

"David also trusted the right people," Ptonomy tells Divad. "He trusted us to help him get better, to help his system heal. He trusts you and Dvd because he knows you love him and that love matters more than your mistakes. It's true that trust can be abused, but that doesn't make it wrong to trust. It's a balance, like everything else. We need to defend ourselves against people who hurt us, but stay open enough to give and accept love."

"How are we supposed to know who to trust if we can't read their minds?" Dvd protests.

"It's always a risk," Ptonomy admits. "Whether you can read minds or not. But love is a powerful force. If you let it in, it can help you heal. It can keep you alive and make life worth living. If someone makes you feel loved, if that love feels true, then they're worth the risk and the work. Think about the love your whole system feels for Kerry and Cary. Think about the love you feel for each other, old and new. That love is how you survived everything that happened to you. That love is how you're healing. Don't be afraid of it. Embrace that love and make it better, make it stronger with trust, honesty, and respect, with affection and support."

He pauses so they can take that in.

‘We have to forgive Amy and Syd,’ Divad thinks.

‘I don’t want to,’ Dvd thinks back, stubbornly.

‘We need them,’ Divad thinks. ‘David needs them. And— I need Amy. I miss what we had.’

‘When you were getting as far away from us as you could,’ Dvd grumbles.

‘You and David always had each other,’ Divad protests. ‘I needed someone, too. Amy was there for me, she loved me. I don’t care that she didn’t know who I was.’

"Then you’re ready to talk to Amy?" Ptonomy asks.

"I am," Divad says. 'I really am.'

"I'm very glad to hear that," Ptonomy says. "And Amy is, too. So let's take a break. We still have a lot of work to do to build your foundation, but we've made real progress. I'd like you all to write down your new system mantra again, and think it together. These words are going to be your lifeline. Make them your own."

They each write and think the words. We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop.

The words feel good. David pulls on the strength of them, ready to make it his own.

"Now think about a dangerous situation. Maybe someone is hurting you. Maybe your system is hurting itself. Maybe you're trying to talk to someone and they're upsetting you, or you're upsetting them. What do you do?"

"Love each other and work together," Divad says, firmly.

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "And what's the first step of working together, Dvd?"

"Uh, talking?" Dvd tries.

"Talking," Ptonomy agrees. "If you talk to each other, everyone can say what they need and what they think is the right solution. Then you can agree about what to do."

"That'll take forever," Dvd says, suspicious. "What if our life is in danger?"

"It'll get easier with practice," Ptonomy says. "But let's talk about what to do if you're physically threatened. If whoever is in charge of your system's body is conscious and able to move it, then you should ask them to move it away from the danger."

"What if they can't?" Dvd presses.

"We discussed this, Dvd," Ptonomy says. "Yes, in dire circumstances, it might be necessary for you to take control of your body to protect it. But that's a last resort, not an excuse. Forcing David to share your body hurts him, and I know you don't want to hurt him."

Dvd looks to David, longing and apologetic all at once. Then he turns back to Ptonomy. "I don't want to hurt him," he agrees.

"And if your system is in emotional danger?" Ptonomy asks. "If you're with someone who is saying things that upset you, or you upset them? David?"

"The love advice," David says. "We should follow that."

"And Dvd, what does that mean?" Ptonomy asks.

Dvd looks at David and Ptonomy, uncertain.

"It means we should stay with them and talk to them," David tells Dvd. He had to learn that lesson himself, and he wants to share that with Dvd. He never had to isolate himself out of shame and Dvd doesn't either. "We should try to work things out. And we should get help if the problem is big."

"That's right," Ptonomy agrees. "The love advice applies to the three of you as a system, and also how your system relates to people outside of it. It will also help each of you relate to yourselves. Remember what Syd said to David? Give yourselves affection and support, and treat yourselves with trust, honesty, and respect. When you're unhappy, figure out why and get help if you need it. That's what's healing you. That's what will make you strong."

The same love for all of them. David likes that. Even if it's hard for him to give that love to himself, or for Divad to give that love to their system, or for Dvd to give that love to Syd and Amy— It's all the same.

"It is," Ptonomy agrees. "It isn't always easy to give that love, but it's worth it. And it will be easier if we do it together."

Chapter 92: Day 11: If *he* kills David, it isn't suicide. (Divad)

Chapter Text

"Hey," Amy says, looking at Divad sweet and hopeful, the way she used to when they were younger. He missed that hope after David destroyed it.

On the other side of the table, David flinches, hurt by Divad’s thought.

‘Watch it,’ Dvd thinks, warning. He’s sitting with David and holding his hand, steadying him physically the way Divad is steadying him neurochemically.

‘Sorry,’ Divad thinks back. It wasn’t his choice to have to share his thoughts this way. He’s been trying to keep his thoughts safe for David but it isn’t easy. And now, sitting with Amy—

He doesn’t want to hurt David, but he will. He'll remember things, think things and— Ptonomy better know what he’s doing because Divad doesn’t like this arrangement at all.

But Amy. He needs to focus on Amy.

"It’s okay, Divad," Amy says. "I know this isn't easy for you."

It still startles Divad to hear her call him by his name.

"Well, get used to it, Divad," Amy says, gently teasing. "I want to get to know all my brothers better. I want to talk to Divad and Dvd a lot."

'Liar,' Dvd grumbles.

"Dvd, please," David says, giving Dvd an earnest look. "She's our sister. I love her, we love her. Let Divad talk to her."

"Fine," Dvd sighs. 'For you,' he thinks, giving David a meaningful look back.

Divad does his best to tune them out. Amy knows he isn’t David and she still wants to be with him. He’s known that for days but it’s still hard to accept. He’s spent his whole life being David to her, to everyone outside his system, and now—

"Now you're just you," Amy says. "How does it feel to just be Divad?"

How does he feel? "Nervous?" he admits, even as he struggles to understand why. Their body is stiff with tension. "I mean, I've always been me on the inside." But he was always David on the outside. He answered to David, he wrote David's name—

"It’s a big change, being yourself," Amy says.

"Yeah," Divad says. He wants to be heard, to be seen, to have his existence— Made real and external. To not just be a stress response, but a whole person with his own voice and name. He got close to that in college and then Farouk destroyed that, like he destroys everything.

'Traitor,' Dvd thinks, a muttered thought that Divad ignores.

He can feel their cortisol rising, chemical reactions of fight-or-flight gearing up, but— He can’t use his powers to make his feelings go away. He has to let them happen to him. But he feels so much. Farouk destroys whatever they build. He's going to destroy this, somehow, and that makes Divad so angry. If David had just listenedNo. No, blaming David is what the monster wants him to do. They have to unlearn his lessons to have a chance at making the torture stop.

"We will," Amy says, reassuring him. "We're making this time different, remember?"

Divad wants to believe that. He wants to believe that there's any way out of this. He wants to, but how? Every time they tried to stop the monster, to escape whatever horrors they were experiencing, it only made things worse. David made things worse. If David had just made the right choice even once, if David wasn't so stupid and useless all the time—

"Divad," Amy says, gentle but concerned. "I know you're scared. What you've been through, the fear that it will happen again— Anyone would be terrified. But hurting David won't make the pain stop. Farouk loves David's suffering, he wants it so much. Please don't hurt him for Farouk. We've all made that mistake and it's not the answer."

Divad looks away from her, ashamed. He knows she's right, but— When he tries to accept that—

Then Dvd's right. He is a traitor, a monster. He tortured his system for Farouk. They'll never want him back, how could they? He's the one who ruined everything, who couldn't keep them safe, who—

"Divad," Amy says again, firmer this time. "Hurting yourself won't help either. All this shame— It hurts all of you so much. What happened wasn't your fault. Remember what Ptonomy said? If you love each other and work together, the pain will stop. You need to start trying to believe that."

Divad wants to. He wants to, but— He doesn't know how.

"Then let me help you," Amy says. "I love you, Divad. You're my brother. Remember how when there was a big storm at night, you'd come into my room? The lightning would flash, and then the thunder would be so loud— And you'd hold me so tight."

Divad remembers that. All three of them hated thunder, hated the terrifying noise that shook their bones. But they went to Amy and she held them, she kept them safe. Even though— It was just thunder, her holding them didn't do anything to stop the storm.

"But it made you feel safe," Amy says.

'That was Amy, not Mom?' David wonders. 'I remember being scared of storms and going to her.'

It was Amy, Divad thinks. If David could share their body again, he could use that experience to heal the memory. But David let himself be tricked by the monster and now their system will never heal.

"There are always storms, Divad," Amy says. "But just because we can't stop them— Being together still helps us. Our hugs always made you feel a little better, right?"

It did. It always did, but— The monster tortured them anyway, ripped them apart. And all Divad could do was watch as David ruined everything, as he put their neck into that noose and— Sometimes Divad can still feel the cord strangling them, cutting off their air, making their vision fade out. David forgot them, he couldn't hear them, he didn't know they were there, but— Later, in Clockworks, imprisoned in their body, all Divad could think was that somehow David knew. He knew and he was punishing them, punishing him for—

"I didn't know," David insists, his eyes haunted.

"He didn't know," Dvd says, defensive. 'We're finally getting him back, stop pushing him away!'

Divad isn't trying to hurt David, he doesn't want to, but thinking about what happened— If they don't want David to hear this, then they should let Divad put his mental shield back up, they should let him control his emotions, they should—

"No," David says, despite the tears in his eyes. "I don't care how awful it is. I need to know the truth. We can't fix our system, we can't love each other without being honest."

And if Divad's ‘honesty’ makes David want to kill himself again? That's what it did before.

'You'd love that,' Dvd accuses. 'The shit beetle's gone, you'd shove David back and take over, and he'd let you do it because he thinks he deserves whatever you do to him.'

"That's not what I want," Divad insists. He doesn't want to hurt David, he just— "I want us to get out of this without that monster torturing us again and making us hurt people! I want us to not end the world!" David can't kill himself even though they all know that's the only way this is going to stop, Farouk took that away, too. He takes everything away no matter what they do. He's going to make them hurt everyone, Division 3 arrested them because they're going to destroy everything, because David

David can't kill himself. David's friends won't kill him, they're deluding themselves that there's any other way to make this stop. They don't understand. David will always fuck things up, that's what he does, that's what he is, and Divad is the one who has to stop him from fucking things up but no one listens

He has to do this himself. He has to find a solution. And if David is the problem— If David can't kill himself—

And it comes to him, the solution. Because he's not David, he's Divad. He's his own person, he's— If he kills David, it isn't suicide.

'What,' David thinks, eyes wide.

"Over our dead body," Dvd growls, standing up.

"Listen," Divad says, because they have to listen. If Dvd just agrees to it— "It makes sense. What happened in college— I just didn't go far enough. David, I know you want this, we just needed a way to pull it off."

"Absolutely not," Dvd says, teeth bared. "It won't even work! Believe me, if any of us could kill each other, I would’ve killed you years ago, you absolute shit beetle."

"I'm not like that monster!" Divad says back, furious. "I'm trying to save everyone, to save whatever's left of us! David can't be saved, we know that, David knows that, that's why he gave up his shielding for us, that's why we exist!" That's what they've always done wrong. That's why nothing ever worked. They shouldn't be trying to save David, he isn't the real David, he's just an identity like them. And if he's just an identity— He's not real, he doesn't matter. He knows that, they all know it. So to get rid of Farouk, to make all of this torture stop, all they have to do is— Erase him. Erase his memories, wipe him out so there's nothing left of David Haller at all. And then Farouk—

David stands up and takes two steps back. 'This can't be happening. Oh god, the crown won't stop him.'

"I‘ll stop him," Dvd promises, and glares at Divad. "Yeah, I made a mistake years ago, I went along with your little plan. I had to because David was hurting himself, he was hurting all of us. But now you're the one hurting us! You wanna be a separate person so bad? You know what Ptonomy said about people who won't stop hurting us." He raises his hands menacingly. "I'm going to shove you so far back in our body—"

"Dvd, wait!" David says, getting between them by standing in the table. "Divad, it won't work, your plan won't work because— Because Farouk doesn't think you're a separate person, right? So you killing me would still be suicide, and then— You and Dvd and— And Kerry and Amy and Cary— They'd all be tortured and you don't want that, right? You don't want them to suffer the way we have."

Divad hesitates, but then— "No, the monster only cares about you. We're not real. So if there's no David— He'll leave us alone. Our body will still be alive, right? It won't even hurt, I'll just—"

"Hey!" Lenny says, storming up to Divad. "Farouk doesn't care about David, asshole! He only cares about himself! He only went into David because he wanted revenge on his real dad. You think Farouk gives a shit what you think? You think 'real' matters to him? If you erase David, that's still suicide."

It's still—

Shit. Shit, he almost— If he'd—

"Oh, now he's sorry," Dvd sneers. "David, get out of the way."

"No," David says, raising his hands in pleading defense.

"He tried to erase you!" Dvd says, outraged. "He crossed the line— Again!"

"I know," David says. "And I know it feels really different, but— Divad's doing the same thing I do. I try to kill myself, I've tried so hard—" His face creases with grief. "But Lenny's right, if he erases me, if I erase myself— It's the same. Farouk won't care what you are, if you're a stress response or a person— As long as you're part of me and you can suffer— That's real enough for him. It always was. He tortured all of us, he just— Tortured us differently."

"You don't remember," Divad says.

"I don't," David agrees. "And that makes me feel like I've already been erased, like there's nothing left of me but him. But I don't want to be him anymore and I don't think you do either."

"He'll never leave us alone," Divad says, and that absolutely terrifies him.

"That's why we have to stop him," David says, stepping closer. "We have to help each other so we can be strong enough to stop him. Please, Divad. We both have to stop hurting me for him."

Divad meets David's eyes, and he knows David is right. They are the same, dark mirrors of each other, victims of the same agonizing lessons. Divad doesn't feel like those lessons will ever end.

"That's how I feel," David admits. "And I know you know that because you've heard everything I've ever thought." 'I don't want us to fight and punish each other. We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop.'

Divad doesn't understand how David can have compassion for him after he just tried to kill him.

"You didn't stop loving me after all the times I tried to kill us," David says. "You suppressed your fear and anger so you could help me heal. I know exactly what it feels like to think killing me is the only way to make the pain stop. I felt it today, I've felt it— Every single day for so long, I can't even remember when it started. But that's what he did to us. That's the shame delusion, the parasite he left inside us that's been eating us alive."

It's still as vivid an image as it was when Divad first heard it.

"The only thing that fights our shame is love," David says. "That's what helps me. If you let us love you, it will help you. I want us to love each other, I want— Even if there's pain coming from outside our system, I want our system to feel safe the way Amy feels safe. I know everything has been unbearably awful for all our lives, but this is our chance to actually make it stop and not just— Give in the way we always have."

'I sure didn't,' Dvd mutters.

"You didn't give up on me, but you gave up on Divad," David says. "If you can love me even though I've hurt myself over and over—"

"It's not the same," Dvd says, firmly.

"None of us can leave," David says back. "We're not separate people, we're a system. We're all Davids. You hurting Divad and him hurting me and me hurting myself are all the same. We share everything, we have to share— Forgiveness and love."

Divad stares, honestly astonished. The David they knew was never capable of anything like this. He wanted to help, to protect them, to love them, of course he did. But he never— Every time he tried, things always went wrong.

"There was a monster in our head," Dvd says, tersely. "I told you but you never listened, you were as bad as everyone else. David couldn't do anything right because the shit beetle never let him. David only fucked everything up because he was being fucked! When Cary got that halo on him, what's the first thing he did? He stopped a war. So if he can do that, maybe he can actually stop this one."

'I can't believe I just said that,' Dvd thinks, but keeps the same stubborn look on his face.

'That's right, I did stop a war,' David thinks.

He did. It all happened so fast, and then they were taken, but— As soon as David actually had a chance to be in control of their body and their powers, once he actually understood at least a fraction of what was happening— He stopped decades of bloody war. He made peace between Division 3 and mutantkind. A delicate, new peace, one that has a long way to go, but the killing stopped.

David did that, their David. Divad was just as bad as David in not recognizing how huge that was, how important. For a few precious days, David could think clearly and the monster couldn't hurt him or sabotage him, and— That changed everything.

If David could stop the war against mutantkind— David might actually be able to stop Farouk.

Divad looks at David, really looks at him, and realizes— This isn't the David they lost. He is, but— He isn't. He's changed, he's grown. David can’t see how far he's come, and it’s hard for Divad, too. The shame blinds both of them so much.

But Dvd sees it. Syd saw it, looking at David's notebook. Ptonomy must have seen it to make them share like this. And because Divad couldn't— He nearly destroyed everything they've been building.

He almost did Farouk's job for him. Again.

He sits back down, horror coming over him. Dvd's right, he's always been right. Divad is a shit beetle. David isn't Farouk's son. Divad is.

"You're not a monster," David says. He walks out of the table and sits in the chair next to Divad. "You're a David, and— Davids make mistakes when we're afraid. Mostly we hurt our system because we don't want to hurt anyone else. But we don't have to hurt our system, we never did. We just have to love each other and work together."

"I'm supposed to be the one who gives you advice," Divad says, softly.

"We don’t work that way anymore," David says. "I don’t think we ever did."

Maybe they didn’t. Divad did a terrible job protecting David’s mind, so bad that Dvd had to take over. And Dvd was supposed to protect their body, but he couldn’t stop the monster or the medication. And David— David was supposed to be the victim, the sacrifice to keep the rest of them safe. But that failed, too.

"Our old system was a disaster," David says, with a sad smile. "That’s why we need a new one."

It’s hard to look at David and not see everything that happened, everything they were together, everything that went wrong. They lost David and what kept them going was the hope that one day they would get him back and finally find a way to keep him safe. But the David they found— He doesn’t need that. He needs them to help him be strong. Maybe he always did.

If they’d only realized that, only worked the right way from the beginning—

"What happened happened," David tells him. "I know there’s so much I can’t remember, but I don’t want that pain to stop us from healing."

Divad recognizes what David is doing. "You can’t forgive me when you barely know what I did to you," he insists.

"Would you have done it if you had the choice?" David asks. "If you don't want it, if it's not your choice, it's not who you are."

"It’s all I am," Divad counters. Earlier David thought there was nothing left of him but the torture. But that’s true of Divad, not him.

"No," David insists. "If there was nothing left— If you were a monster, you would've just— Erased me and taken over as soon as Farouk was out of us. You have so much power over our body, but you're using it to help us heal. You don't want to hurt me. You're just scared and ashamed and— That means we're the same."

"I wanted to erase you," Divad admits, because David has to know, he needs the full truth so he can stop trying to forgive him. "When I stopped suppressing myself, all I wanted to do was get you out of the way so I could fix things myself. And that's nothing. In college— You were getting better and I didn't want that, so I tortured you, I broke you."

That makes David sit back. "Was that— What Dvd was talking about?" He glances at Dvd.

"Yeah," Divad admits.

"Okay, that's— That's really bad," David admits.

"Yeah, no shit," Dvd says. "That's why we have to lock him away. Look what just happened! He'll keep hurting us until we stop him!"

"No, that's—" David starts, struggling. "I've tortured us, too. Dvd, you told me to kill myself because I was torturing both of you with my thoughts!"

"That's different," Dvd insists.

"I hanged us," David tells him. "I tried to kill us over and over!"

"You were sick," Dvd says.

"Divad's sick," David returns. "We're all sick, that's why we're here, that's— That's the whole point! We were tortured for decades by a monster, of course we're sick, how could we not be sick? Torturing me wasn't Divad's fault any more than— Than it was—" He trails off. 'My fault? No that's— That can't be right—'

"It's not right because it is his fault," Dvd says, pointing at Divad.

"No," David says. "It's not right because— It's mine."

"How can him torturing you be your fault?" Dvd asks, baffled.

"I don't know," David admits. "It just is."

"No, David," Divad says, frustrated. "It's my fault, if I'd just—"

"Oh my god," Lenny groans. "Listen, Larry, Curly, and Moe, it's the fucking monster's fault!"

They all stare at her.

"Don't give me that dumb look," Lenny tells Divad. "I've had to listen to the three of you poking your system in the eye for days and I am done. None of you did anything to deserve being bodysnatched as a baby and tortured for decades. Yeah, you're all fucked up from that, but it's not, like, retroactive. Him fucking you up didn't magically make you deserve to be tortured. He's an asshole, he tortured you for revenge against someone else. You beating up your system is just giving him what he wants. You don't want to be his puppets, so stop letting him yank you around!"

'But—' they all think.

"No 'buts,'" Lenny tells them. "Listen, I sure as hell didn't do anything to deserve the bullshit I went through. But it happened and now I gotta deal with it. You three gotta deal with it too." Then she softens, looking at Divad. "Look, I get it. He made all of you hurt your system and it sucks. But guess what? Blaming any part of your system hurts your system! It's the hair of the dog, man. Maybe it feels good, but it's not gonna get you clean."

"What, are we addicted to punishment?" Dvd asks, skeptically.

Lenny thinks about it. "Yeah, I guess you are. You want it so bad you'll hurt yourselves to get it."

Not again. "Will you stop calling me a junkie?" Divad pleads.

"I will if you stop acting like one," Lenny says back. "The shit beetle made all of you just as obsessed with pain as he is. If you don't want to be him, stop acting like him. Whatever he'd do, just do the opposite. He's a petty, sadistic asshole who only cares about revenge, so— Be the opposite."

Divad looks at his brothers. They look back at him and each other.

"Dammit," Dvd mutters. He rounds on Divad. "If I agree to this and you hurt David again—"

"You'll end me?" Divad asks, archly. "I could erase David and you could lock me away. But none of those things will save us and— David doesn't want that." He doesn't want them tearing their system apart, blaming and hurting each other for all the things that went wrong. He doesn't want to be sheltered. He wants the truth even if it hurts him. He wants— Healthy multiplicity.

'Yes.' David smiles, relieved. It's a hell of a lot better than seeing him afraid, suffering, in pain—

The monster taught them they had to hurt their system, but that's his truth, not theirs. They don't have to hurt their system and they never did. If they love each other and work together, the pain will stop. It's hard for them to believe those things, but they have to try.

Divad doesn't want to be like Farouk. He doesn't want to hurt David for him. So he has to be— The opposite. Forgiving, compassionate, helpful, actually loving and not whatever twisted love that monster thinks he wants. They all have to be that for their whole system, for each other and themselves.

"That sounds like it should be in our foundation," David says, and gives Divad and Dvd a hopeful look.

Divad looks at Amy. "We're supposed to talk so I can forgive you."

"We'll talk later," Amy says. "You’re my brothers, I’ll love you whether you forgive me or not. Hearing you helping each other— That’s what makes me happy, Divad."

Seeing Amy smile at him feels good, too. Divad's been so obsessed with finding the right solution, with being the one in control so he could fix things, but that made everything worse.

"You're not doing this alone," David says. "I've been telling myself that and— You need to tell yourself that, too. I think you need all the things I've been telling myself. Maybe— You can share my notebook with me, the way I shared yours?"

"That was for our system," Divad points out.

"What's the difference?" David asks. "You can have your own if it helps you, but— We're not separate people, we're a system. If you killing me is suicide, then you writing in my notebook— Is just us writing in our notebook. Right?" He looks to Divad, to Dvd.

'I don't want to forgive him,' Dvd grumbles. 'I don't want to accept him back.'

"I do," David tells him. "And if one of us does something, we all do it, right?"

'How is this happening?' Dvd moans. 'I should never have told him how we worked.'

'Now who's the one pushing David away?' Divad thinks at Dvd.

"Fine," Dvd says, while sounding incredibly aggravated about it. 'But I'm doing this for David.'

Of course he is. But Dvd can't have David all to himself anymore. They already have to share David with the world, and now— Dvd has to share David with Divad.

'I guess Dvd was always really protective,' David thinks.

More like jealous, if you ask Divad.

"Hey, nobody asked you," Dvd says. 'You're the jealous one.'

They were supposed to share everything.

'Hey, you made your choice, I made mine,' Dvd thinks back.

'It's probably just my imagination,' David thinks, 'But it really sounds like— No, that's ridiculous, we're brothers.'

"We are not brothers," Dvd tells him. "We're a system. The brother thing is just— To make it easier for you to accept us."

"I guess we are sort of brothers," Divad admits. "But, uh—" He really doesn't want to be the one to tell David this.

"Tell me what?" David asks, looking at them. "What, did Dvd torture me, too?"

"Absolutely not!" Dvd declares, offended. "The opposite." He ducks his head, suddenly shy. The only thing that could ever make Dvd shy was David.

'The opposite of torture?' David wonders. 'Healing? I thought Divad was the one who healed me.'

Lenny covers her face with her hand. "This is just painful."

"Could someone please just tell me what happened?" David asks, looking around at all of them.

"Um, David," Amy starts.

"Oh no, she is not telling you," Dvd says, intervening. He comes up to David. "I wanted you to remember on your own. But that asshole took everything, of course he did, he's even more jealous than Divad and I hate him so much."

"Just spit it out already," Divad mutters.

"All right, all right," Dvd sighs. "Look, we shared everything, right? We were always together, your body is our body. And, uh, puberty happened. For us. Together."

'I'm still trying not to think about that,' David thinks.

"Well you're gonna have to," Dvd admits. "It didn't start out as anything— We were just— It was one of the few things we had to help us feel better when everything else was awful. But we got older and— We were lonely and— We loved each other, we accepted each other when no one else did, not even Divad."

David stares at Dvd. "Are you saying—"

"We weren't, like, boyfriends," Dvd protests. "We were being tortured by a monster, we were just trying to survive— It wasn't like you and Syd with all the rainbows and fairy tales. But we— You needed me so much and I—" He looks at David meaningfully. "I loved you, David. I still do and— I miss you so much." 'Please don't hate me.'

David just stares at him, not even thinking. He looks at Divad. He looks at Syd. He looks at Dvd again.

"But I'm not gay," David says.

"Does it count as gay if it's yourself?" Divad asks. "But uh, we are, uh, not straight? Half the reason you trusted Benny was because—" Shit. He did not mean to let that slip.

"I was in love with Benny?!" David cries, astonished.

"Hey, I don’t remember doing anything like that with David," Lenny protests. "I do not swing that way."

"Lenny doesn't," Divad says. "But the real Benny did."

David looks to Amy. "Did you know about this?"

"I didn't," Amy admits. She's as surprised as David. At least they managed to not let the mainframe learn all of this first. "Philly and I didn't like you being with Benny, but that was because of the drugs. You two must have kept it a secret."

'I have to talk to Benny,' David thinks. 'The real Benny. I have to know the truth. Maybe Division 3 can find him.'

"Uh, slight problem," Lenny says, grimacing. "The real Benny's dead."

"Good," Dvd says, darkly pleased. "I hope he died alone and miserable."

"That's not nice," David says. "I loved him. Apparently."

"You were out of our head on drugs and in the middle of a self-destructive spiral," Divad points out. "We were just out of college. Benny was way older than us and he was our dealer. He used you and you didn't care as long as he made you feel good."

"This is a lot to take in," David says, struggling. 'All I remember is Lenny. Lenny's my age, not— What did Benny even look like?'

"There's a picture in the mainframe," Lenny says. "I can put it on a monitor, hold on."

She looks at one of Cary's monitors, and then— There's Benny. It's a mugshot, probably from when he was arrested for drugs or stealing. He looks rough, which makes him look older, but he must have been in his late thirties there. They were twenty four when Amy took them to Clockworks.

"That's Benny?!" David cries, astonished. 'I don't remember him at all. Oh my god. I've been with men, I've been with— Myself?' And then he turns and looks at Syd.

Syd looks— Outwardly calm. But Divad knows that doesn't mean anything. She's staring at the screen. When she realizes Divad is looking at her, she turns and stares at him.

"Divad," Syd says, calmly. "Is David okay?"

"He's, uh, in shock," Divad admits. There was never going to be an easy way to tell David any of this. If he could just remember on his own— But the memories are gone, Divad knows that better than anyone. Whatever scraps are left in David's traumatic amnesia— That wouldn't be enough.

Syd nods. "He was with Benny— While he was with Philly? And before he forgot you— He was with Dvd?"

"Yeah," Divad admits. And Divad could have shared with them, if he hadn’t—

"Okay, um," Syd starts. She stands up. "I need to, um."

"Syd," Amy says, reaching for her. "You shouldn’t be alone."

Syd looks like she needs to be alone. She looks like she’ll claw her way out of the lab if they try to make her stay. "I’ll find Ptonomy," she says, compromising. "So much for his break."

David snaps out of his shock and reaches for Syd. "Syd, I didn't know."

But she can't hear him. And before Divad can relay for David, Syd is gone.

Chapter 93: Day 11: Maybe Dvd's love is cherries after all. (David)

Chapter Text

No one sits alone. That's the rule. But David absolutely can't deal with staying with Amy or Lenny or Divad or Dvd right now, he just can't. So he goes up to the loft to stay with Kerry and Oliver.

"Don't mind me," he tells them, not wanting to interrupt Oliver's physical therapy more than he already has. He sits down in a corner and rests his head on his knees, feeling utterly overwhelmed. Kerry and Oliver all heard everything, too. Everyone heard everything. Everyone except Syd, but she heard enough. They're all hearing him freaking out right now and there's nothing he can do about it.

And he can't not hear Dvd and Divad. He can't not hear how upset Dvd is, how heartbroken he is. But that makes him feel worse, because he's hurting Dvd, hurting his system, which is hurting himself? But he doesn't remember anything about Dvd or Benny or— He knew he didn't know who he was but he does not know who he is and apparently Farouk made him straight and David doesn't even know where to begin to process that revelation.

He can't get over seeing Benny. He's been trying to remember Benny for weeks and got absolutely nowhere. He just thought— He thought Benny was Lenny, just— Male. A male Lenny. But Benny was not a male Lenny. Benny was a whole entire other person who apparently David had some kind of secretly sexual relationship with for possibly years. Like the secretly sexual relationship he had for years with himself.

How did they even— If they shared all the time, how did they even—

Is that why Dvd was so upset about not sharing? What happened last night? Is sharing— sexual?

'For god's sake— No, sharing is not sexual,' Divad thinks at him, pushing past David's frantic thoughts. 'It's just being together. Dvd wouldn't do anything to hurt you, don't even think he would, he's upset enough already.'

Well, David is upset, too! He's extremely upset!

'Yeah, we get that,' Divad thinks, dryly. 'Just take it down a notch.'

Sorry, David thinks. He should probably avoid any spiralling. Spirals are not good for him. He should talk to someone, he knows that, but— He's had a lot of shocks since this started but this was a hell of a shock. Not the kind where he’s so terrified he goes away, not the kind that makes him feel like he has to hurt himself. He’s just— Upset and confused and— Angry. He’s angry that once again, people lied to him about himself, about who and what he is. He’s angry that they needed to lie to him. He’s angry that he didn’t know any of this in the first place, that all of this was stolen from him and now it’s just more empty space that nothing will ever fill.

Amy knew about Dvd. Ptonomy and Lenny must have known, too, they must have overheard something Dvd or Divad thought. They all knew but they didn't tell him, they didn't— And that means Oliver knew, it means the entire world knew before he did.

"I didn't know," Kerry says. David looks up to see her addressing a spot a few feet away, where she last heard him speak.

"I'm over here," David tells her.

"Oh, sorry," Kerry says, and comes over. "I didn't know. They didn't tell me about Dvd either, or Benny, but nobody tells me anything. I guess they were waiting until you were ready."

David doesn't feel ready now. Every time he starts to get a handle on who he is, the rug gets pulled out from under him again. It’s exhausting and humiliating and—

Kerry sits down on the floor with him. "But you're still you, right?" she asks. "I mean, Oliver forgot everything too but he's still Oliver. That's what Cary says, anyway."

Cary. "Um, how's he doing?" David asks.

Kerry puts her hand over her belly. "Still asleep. We were apart for so long, I guess— We need to be together for a while so we can heal."

"Does it hurt, being apart?" David asks.

"Not at first," Kerry says. "But after a while— It starts to ache? In here." She puts her hand over her chest. "We don't know why. We never really talked about it. We don't actually know— What we are."

"Aren't you two a system?" David asks.

"I guess?" Kerry tries. "But we have two bodies and two minds, so— We're not really sure how we work? Cary and I talked about it a little. If we are a system, like you and Divad and Dvd— Then we have to have one soul."

"So— It's your soul that hurts?" David asks, curious.

Kerry shrugs. "Maybe? We thought we'd ask Syd for help figuring it out, but— The ache went away once Cary went back inside, I don't think we should do anything until Cary can come out again."

Seeing Kerry struggling makes David feel a little better about his own confusion. "So if you're not a system, what are you?"

"Well, we're definitely mutants," Kerry says, with relieved confidence. "That part's easy. You're definitely a mutant, too."

"That's true," David agrees. At least that's one thing that hasn't changed in the past couple of weeks. Though honestly he's still adjusting to learning that after being brought to Summerland. Which was, what, six weeks ago for him? Everything's happened so fast. "And I'm a man, you're a woman. That's easy."

Kerry frowns.

"Is it— Not easy?" David asks, concerned.

"I dunno," Kerry says. "I mean— Before we changed, I wasn't really me, not like I am now. I was Cary. His body was my body."

"Oh," David says, surprised. "So— You felt like him? A man?"

"I didn't like to think about body stuff," Kerry says. "Any body stuff. It didn't feel right."

David blinks at her. "Does it— How does it feel now?"

Kerry concentrates. "Different. Weird. But maybe— Less weird? I dunno, it's all pretty new."

David considers this. Is there anything he’s experienced that’s similar? And to his surprise, there absolutely is. "After I swapped with Syd, in Clockworks— I was only her for a couple hours, but after that— My body felt wrong for weeks. Like— Being in her shape— Made something in me her shape."

Kerry considers that. "If me and Cary swap with Syd, will that make us feel like her?"

"I don’t know," David admits. "We never tried it again. And I don’t know if it was me or—"

Kerry gets a wary look.

"You don’t have to swap with her if you don’t want to," David offers.

"But if we don’t, then how are we gonna figure out what we are?" Kerry asks. She gives a frustrated huff. "Understanding myself is a lot harder than I thought it’d be."

David smiles at that. "It really is."

"I don’t wanna be the wrong shape," Kerry says. "But I don’t even know if this is the right shape. I was him, but not— All of him. And now I’m all of me, but that’s weird, too."

"Maybe you just need time?" David offers. "I don’t feel like I need to be Syd’s shape anymore. Though, um— To tell you the truth— I kind of miss it? It felt—" How did it feel? He’s not sure he can put it into words. He’s not even sure if what he misses is being her shape or— The feeling that she’s with him, around him, close to him in a way they’ve never physically been.

"Huh," Kerry says. "So maybe— It’s not that I’m supposed to be Cary. It’s that I miss being inside him?"

"Maybe?" David shrugs. "You were Cary for a long time. Maybe it’s both things, but— Tangled up."

"So I have to untangle, like you do," Kerry says, and is pleased about it.

"So let’s keep untangling," David says, buoyed by their progress. "How about— Attraction? Do you feel attraction to anyone?"

Kerry shrugs. "How would I know?"

"Well," David says, because that is a good question, one he should probably be asking himself. "Um, the magazines we looked at. When you looked at the photos, did you— Feel anything about the people in them?"

Kerry thinks. "I was more interested in the food. What about you?"

What about him?

He can't trust his memory. Farouk could have made him remember anything, even after he rewrote him in college. He rewrote Benny and Lenny right to the very end. David knows Philly was real, but he can't trust his memory of their relationship. Who knows what the real truth was? Amy didn't know the truth about his relationship with Benny. He remembers loving Philly, he remembers desiring her, having sex with her. He can only hope all of that was real. He doesn't know if anything he remembers is real. So that leaves— The past month of his life to judge his sexuality by.

Syd. He knows he loves Syd. Even though he feels a lot of things, a lot of not great things— He wants to be with her, he wants to kiss her, and—

He blushes. He probably shouldn't think too much about that when everyone is listening.

"Is that how you know?" Kerry asks. "Kissing?"

"It's more of a feeling," David tries, not at all sure that he's the right person to explain this to Kerry. But here they are. "Like— How you have a favorite food. It feels good to think about, uh, cream soda, right?"

Kerry nods.

"So it's kinda like that," David continues. "Except it's a person and, uh— You don't want to eat them." Well, not literally. "You want to be— Intimate with them. Physically, emotionally— But it doesn't have to be sexual, I was with Syd for a year and— We couldn't even touch, but— Just being close to her— Sharing my life with her made me happy."

It did. He misses how she made him happy, how simple it felt to love her and be loved by her. But that simplicity was an illusion. They were— Loving past each other, never understanding each other, because of Farouk, because of their own fears and traumas.

"Am I supposed to want to be with Cary?" Kerry asks.

"No," David says, and then hesitates. "Probably not. Honestly, it's— I have no idea if identities normally— Fall in love." That's not the kind of thing he read about in Syd's book. "But there's usually a difference between— Romantic love and— The way you feel about your family and friends." And yourself. Because identities aren't separate people, they're a system of people that are all one person.

"I don't know if I'm a system," Kerry protests. "What if me and Cary are mutant twins? Maybe we're two separate people who got stuck together. Maybe we're something new, something only mutants have and no one understands, like— Like detachment syndrome."

"Okay," David says. "How do you feel about Cary?"

"I dunno, he's Cary," Kerry says. "I didn't have to think about him, he just was. And now it's complicated."

"But you love him, right?" David tries. "You feel safe with him, you trust him, it makes you— Happy to be with him, especially after you've been apart."

Kerry nods.

"But you don't want— More than that," David asks. "You don't want to be— Well, you do want to be physically together, but— uh—" How is this happening to him? How is he giving Kerry the sex talk? When two people love each other very much— No, no, that's—

"I don't want sex stuff," Kerry says, firmly. "It's gross and weird. Body stuff is bad enough. Cary doesn't want sex stuff either."

"He doesn't?" David asks, surprised.

"No, of course not," Kerry says, like it's obvious. "I don't know why anyone does. I don't know why you do. You're already confused all the time, it's just making you even more confused."

David can hardly argue with that. "Desire isn't logical," he argues anyway. "You just— Fall in love with someone and then— That's it." That's how it was for him with Syd. He thinks that's how it was with Philly, even though— He remembers spending more time fighting with her than anything else. They weren’t even together for a full year but they broke up and got back together so many times—

He likes women. He is definitely attracted to women. But men?

A month isn't much to go by, much less a month spent in constant, intense emotional distress and confusion. Thinking of men sexually certainly doesn't turn him off, it just never occurred to him, not since they got Farouk out, not with everything going on. And why would he want anyone else when he had Syd? But it's not like being with Philly or Syd made him unable to perceive other attractive women.

He thinks about the magazines. There were plenty of attractive people in them, men and women, and he— Appreciated them aesthetically. But he didn't know them, they were just pictures, not people he could have an emotional attachment to.

He refuses to even consider the shit beetle. So who does that leave? Ptonomy? Clark? Cary and Oliver? And— Divad and Dvd.

Ptonomy and Clark— Again, David isn't blind. They're attractive men. But all he got from them was how much they despised and distrusted him. He can't think of anything less enticing than that. Kerry's right, David never got much of a sexual vibe from Cary. Oliver's attractive and he does feel sexually— Something, but he's swiss cheese. And Divad— David honestly has no idea how he feels about Divad at this point, it's just really complicated and he's trying to focus on helping them both heal.

Which leaves Dvd.

And there he has to pause. Because— In the garden, when he thought about Dvd's love for him, how it was— The lightbulb in his lamp— And how Dvd kept making him think of Syd, and Syd kept making him think of Dvd—

"Oh my god," he sighs, and covers his face. He does have feelings for Dvd. How did that even happen?

"Maybe it's a memory thing?" Kerry offers. "Maybe it's like the cherries. Even though you forgot, some part of you still remembers how much you loved your mom. Maybe even though Farouk made you forget Dvd, he couldn't take everything away."

"Maybe?" David tries. "But I remembered something about the cherries. I can't remember Dvd at all." Or Benny.

"Maybe it's like an experiment," Kerry says. "If you run the same experiment twice, you should get the same results."

"This is pretty different from before," David counters.

"You're still the same people, though," Kerry says. "Maybe this is just, like, part of how you work. Y'know, as a system."

"Being in love with another part of myself is how I work?" David asks, skeptical.

"I dunno, it's your system," Kerry says. "But you guys went through some really awful stuff. And love is, like, super important to you. You need it a lot. But you were afraid to love anyone else, right? So— You tried to give yourself what you needed."

That— Actually makes sense. But where does that leave him? Is his relationship with Dvd healthy or unhealthy? It might be a new relationship for him, but it's definitely not new for Dvd. He— Never stopped loving David. Not after David tried to kill them. Not after ten years of separation, ten years of watching David love other people. That's—

That's more than just love. That's devotion, that's— That's probably what kept David alive through some of the worst parts of his life. When he'd lost everything, even himself, he still had Dvd. But it took so much love to survive. David lost the world to Divad, so Dvd— Became his world.

He can't remember feeling however he must have felt with Dvd. Maybe there's some remnant of that love inside him, like the cherries, like Oliver's poems. But this time is different. He does have the world, he has friends, he has— He hopes he can be with Syd again. But he ended up with feelings for Dvd anyway. Because he's a man? Because they're a system? Because of Dvd's devotion?

"That's a lot of questions," Kerry says.

"It is," David agrees. And he has no idea how to answer them. But maybe— If Dvd feels like Syd— Maybe he can do the same thing with Dvd that he did with Syd. Accept the feelings exist, acknowledge them, but— Acknowledging them doesn't mean they have to act on those feelings. He still doesn't know if being with Syd is right for him. He doesn't want them to hurt each other again, but they miss each other and they're both trying to get better. Maybe that's the same, too.

"Yes," comes a triumphant whisper.

David turns and sees Dvd's head just peeking up from the stairs. As soon as their eyes meet, Dvd ducks back down.

‘Shit,’ Dvd thinks, quietly.

David narrows his eyes. No wonder Dvd got so quiet. He was spying.

"What do you need to spy on me for?" David asks him. "You can hear everything anyway."

'You were too far away,' Dvd thinks. 'I don't like it when I can't see you.' He raises his head again and gives David a hopeful look. God, he's like a lovesick puppy.

David wonders if that's what he looks like when he looks at Syd. It probably is. Or it used to be.

"Just come here already," David tells him.

Dvd smiles and clambers up the last steps. He trots over and sits himself down next to David, and is extremely happy about it. He gives David an expectant look.

"Um," David says. Dvd already heard everything. What should he say?

"I waited ten years to get you back," Dvd points out, sobering. "I deserve at least the same thing Syd got, at least."

Okay, that's fair. "Dvd," David starts, still feeling very strange and surreal about all of this. "I have feelings for you, too, but I'm not ready to be with you in— That way. And maybe I will, but for now, can we just—"

"Yes, absolutely," Dvd promises. "I mean, we still have a lot of work to do for our system, for your memories— But David, I love you so much and you matter to me more than anything and—" He starts to tear up. "I'm just, um— I'm just really—" 'He really loves me again? I thought— I was so afraid we'd never— I can't believe this is happening.' He wipes at his eyes. 'I'm not even in our body and I'm crying.'

David can't help it. He can't see Dvd crying and not offer a hug. So he opens his arms and Dvd falls into them and—

They hold each other, Dvd clinging to him and— David feels some tightness in his heart ease. Accepting Dvd's love, returning it in the small way he's able to— It does make him feel better. It feels like— Something that was missing, that was taken away from him— And they’re taking it back.

Maybe Dvd's love is cherries after all.

Chapter 94: Day 11: Arguing about definitions at this point is counterproductive. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd's out of the lab before she realizes she has no idea where Ptonomy is taking his break. She could turn around and go back, ask Amy or Lenny and find out exactly where he is. But she doesn't. She goes to the elevator and takes it to the top.

Ptonomy's not in the garden, and all that is is a relief. She doesn't want to talk to anyone, she doesn't want to be with anyone, she just-—

She wants to do what she's always done. She wants to hide and be alone and drink until her feelings stop. But if she does that—

She goes back down the stairs, back to the elevator. She walks the halls, forcing herself forward step after step, until she hears Ptonomy's voice. She walks towards it, towards a conference room. The door is open, and she stands back and looks inside.

Ptonomy's with several people, an older man and two women about Ptonomy's age. Ptonomy walks up to the man and the man gives him a rough, strong hug.

A touch to her shoulder makes her jump. She whirls around to find Clark standing with a finger over his lips. He steps away and gestures for her to follow him.

"What's going on?" Syd asks, when they're a safe distance away.

"Ptonomy's getting his treatment," Clark says. He looks reluctant to explain, but then he does anyway. "He's in a tough spot. Being everyone's therapist means he can't get all the warm snuggles everyone else gets. So we brought in his family."

Ptonomy has family? Syd doesn't know why that surprises her so much. She knew about his mom dying, she knew his dad was in the army when he was a kid, but beyond that— "He never talked about them."

"They're estranged," Clark says. "Or they were. Him dying and coming back to life changed their minds. We didn't want to bring them into this, but—" He shrugs. "That's his dad, his sister, and an ex-girlfriend. We think that should be enough."

Another ex? Syd can't seem to get away from them. At least they haven't dragged in Philly. Yet. "Why the ex?" she asks. Surely family should be enough, if all Ptonomy needs is some hugs.

"The split was amicable," Clark says. "They still love each other, but he didn't want to put her life in danger. Now the whole world's in danger."

It is. No matter how intimate David's therapy feels, no matter how sensitive the topic, Syd knows there's good reason why the surveillance cameras were never turned off. Thanks to Farouk and David's powers, David's business is everyone's business. And with Ptonomy in charge of David's therapy—

"Why not get Ptonomy a living body?" Syd asks. Surely Division 3, with all its resources and technology, has figured out how to solve that problem.

"The moment Ptonomy leaves the mainframe, so do his secrets," Clark reminds her. "So his treatment gets priority. You've got two options. You can go back to the lab and talk, or you can talk to me. Honestly I'd prefer the first, but I can understand why it would be hard for you to talk about your jealousy in front of David's sister and two of his exes."

"Lenny's not an ex," Syd says.

"David had sexual relationships with one of his identities and also his currently-lesbian best friend when she was a man," Clark says. "Arguing about definitions at this point is counterproductive."

Syd crosses her arms, annoyed not so much at Clark as at how complicated her life has become. Things were so much simpler in Clockworks. But of course, now she knows that wasn't true at all, not for reds like David and Lenny.

"Clockworks," she says. "Division 3 needs to shut it down."

"It's being handled," Clark says. "If we close it, a lot of those patients will end up somewhere just as bad or on the street. Oversight's a better option, but we're an international military organization, that's not in our remit. So we made some calls. There'll be an investigation, we'll keep an eye on that."

"Oh," Syd says, surprised. She forgets how much compassion Clark can have when he's dealing with humans and not mutants. She wonders if they'll ever stop being the enemy to him. "Thank you."

Clark nods, but gives her a look that says he's not interested in her stalling tactics.

"Fine, I'm jealous," she admits. She was jealous of Philly last year, she's always been jealous of Lenny just for being David's best friend, and now apparently she's jealous of David for loving himself.

"Good, we can skip the denial," Clark says, dryly. "That's always tedious."

Syd gives him a look for that. It has exactly the same effect as telling off Matilda for clawing up the furniture, which means it has absolutely no effect.

"Look," Syd says, attempting to muster some kind of defense. "I'm not angry at him."

"But you are angry," Clark says.

"Yeah," Syd admits. "I am." He lied to her, she wants to say, even though she knows he didn't lie to her. He found all this out at the same time she did. He's probably even more angry about it than she is. He's the one who had his memories changed, his entire sexuality changed.

If it wasn't for Philly—

"Do you think, if Farouk hadn’t—" she starts, then stops. Farouk was in control of David his whole life, who know what he would have been without him? Farouk could change memories, but could he change that? Could he—

"I think if Farouk could stop David from loving anyone other than him, he would," Clark says, certain. "I don't think he cares what gender of person David loves. He's just as jealous of you as he is of Dvd, apparently."

"I hate that you know that," Syd admits.

"I hate it, too," Clark says.

She tried to tell herself she didn't want the relay, that she didn't need it, but she needs the relay so badly. It's killing her that everyone else can hear everything in David's head and she can't. Dvd and David could be getting back together right now and she wouldn't know, she couldn’t see it or hear it but it'd still be happening. David could cheat on her right under her nose and she'd never know, just like Philly didn't know about Benny.

Not that she and David are back together. They're not back together. All they did was— Acknowledge their feelings for each other. That's it. They don't have a relationship, they're just— Therapy buddies, and barely even that. She could have stayed and helped David deal with all of this but instead she ran away. She's just as bad as Dvd. If she could grab David and take him away from this place, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

God, David really does have a type, doesn't he? But she'd rather be a re-enactment of David's identity ex-boyfriend than Farouk.

"So is this it?" Clark asks. "Your dealbreaker?"

"I didn't say that," Syd says.

Clark gives her a look. Syd wishes she could ignore it.

"He cheated on Philly," Syd says. "Just like he cheated on me. That's a pattern."

"You do know I watch your sessions, right?" Clark says. "I can pull up the video if you want. It's in your file."

Syd glares at him. God, she hates this place. "Fine. Future Syd is me. David slept with her because I told him to. But Philly didn't tell him to sleep with Benny."

"We don't know what happened," Clark says. "But he was with Benny first. If he did cheat on anyone, he cheated on Benny with Philly."

"That doesn't make any sense," Syd says. She saw David's memories of Philly and Lenny, or at least bits of them. She talked to Philly herself, and Ptonomy looked into Philly's memories. Benny had to know David was with Philly.

Clark's right, they have no idea what really happened between David and Benny. Or at least David and Lenny don't know. Even Philly doesn't know. But Divad and Dvd know.

And that brings her right back to Dvd. Who is part of David. So is it cheating if David has sex with himself? Is that even sex?

"I can't deal with this," Syd mutters, and rubs her head.

"Look, you want David all to yourself," Clark says, unmoved. "I get it. I'm a one-man kinda guy and so’s my husband. But you're right, there is a pattern. I don't think it's about betrayal. I just think— David needs more love than one person can give him without things getting— Toxic."

"So, what, he needs polyamory to be stable?" Syd asks, disbelieving.

"He's three people," Clark says. "You said it yourself, the way they work, any relationship with David means having relationships with Dvd and Divad. So that's already polyamory. You were fine with it before. Why's it a problem now?"

He's right. Why is it different now?

"I want— All of David to love me," Syd admits. "I don't care how many different parts of him there are as long as they all love me."

"And Dvd loving David doesn't fit into that," Clark says. "Except David needs to love himself. That's what all this is about. Unless you want David to love you more than he loves himself?"

She does. She absolutely does, but that's exactly the kind of thing that made their relationship toxic. And she saw that it was toxic, she tried to make him less dependent on her. But she did that by telling him to love them both less, to love himself the way she loves herself, which is— She barely loves herself at all.

It's like— A twisted kind of compassion therapy. She wants David to love her so much she doesn't have to love herself. And Dvd threatens that. Lenny and Philly both threaten that. Even her own future self threatened that. If David loves them, what's left for her?

It's a terrible thing to think, she knows that. Just like it was terrible to shame David for leaving her even though she knew he was taken.

"Are you going to answer that or do I need to talk to Oliver?" Clark asks.

"Why does everyone keep threatening me with Oliver?" Syd grumbles.

"Do you think David would be where he is now without the relay?" Clark asks. "You take one step forward and then you run the other way until you hit a wall. And honestly, we don't have time for that. Let us help you."

"It's 'us' now?" Syd asks, archly.

Clark looks to the heavens. He sighs and looks her in the eye. "Yes. It's us. That doesn't make me your friend and it sure as hell doesn't make me David's friend. But we're in this boat together. I want you to stop drilling holes."

"And the relay will help me do that?" Syd asks, half in challenge, half in hope.

"It's the best shot we have," Clark admits. "If you need motivation, think how much it will mean to David. You open up to him, maybe he'll open up to you. Right?"

"You want me to share my thoughts with him, too?" Syd asks, eyebrows raised.

"That's nothing new," Clark points out. "He'll hear everything again once the crown's off. With this you'll have to talk to each other about what he's hearing. You want his thoughts? Earn them."

Syd considers all that. Clark's right, of course. David only got this far because he's had a lot of help. He didn't have a choice about that help but it was what he needed. She helped force him into therapy in the first place. By refusing to accept the relay herself— What message is she sending David? They're all supposed to be modelling healthy behavior for him, she knows that, even though she's been so busy having her private pity party that she didn't step up to do her part.

She hates that Lenny's right about her. Again. She has been acting like she's too good for all of this, like she's just a visitor, just like she did in Clockworks.

Divad and Dvd didn't have a choice about the relay any more than David did, but they did choose to let David hear their thoughts, to make their relationship with him an equal one. That meant a lot to David, she saw that. It's already brought secrets out into the open and they’ve been a lot to deal with. But if David can handle Divad and Dvd's thoughts—

"Can I ask how David is?" she asks, hating how vulnerable she sounds.

Clark pauses. "Actually, he's doing fine. Had a chat with Kerry about their identity crises. He gave Dvd the same speech he gave you. You know, let's acknowledge our feelings, blah blah blah. They just hugged, it was cute."

Syd takes that in. "Should you have told me all that?"

"These aren’t secrets," Clark says. "If you want to know what you're missing, all you have to do is ask. We're teaching David consent so he doesn't rape everyone's minds once he gets his powers back. Consent's been a problem for both of you, maybe you should model it for him."

It's been a while since Syd got an emotional gut punch. That one hurt.

"Hey, what was it Lenny said?" Clark asks himself. "If you don't want to be like Farouk, stop acting like him. That's some solid advice from a dead junkie."

Syd glares at him. "You do realize that if I do this, you're going to hear all my thoughts, too?"

"And I'm truly thrilled," Clark drawls. "I'm sure they'll be as endlessly delightful as the Davids' thoughts. Just as a heads up, are there any major physical or psychological traumas we should know about? Because most of the world’s civilian and military leaders have been lightly scarred from listening to all this and they'd appreciate the warning. Who knew so many of the people in charge had abusive childhoods? Really makes you think."

"I'm sure everything's already in my file," Syd says, and suppresses a shudder.

§

When Syd gets back to the lab, everything's calm. David— No, still Divad. Divad is sitting with Amy and Lenny on the sofa. Divad is holding Amy's hand and talking to her while — to Syd's surprise — Lenny holds Amy from behind. And up in the loft, Kerry is laughing at something. Clark said David and Dvd were with her, so one of them must have said something funny. Oliver's up in the loft, too, doing his physical therapy.

Every time she leaves, she misses something. How much is she missing by not having the relay? It must be so much, and she stupidly turned down David’s offer in the garden. But he wasn’t ready, they both knew it, and if she hadn’t refused him, Divad and Dvd would have intervened. All the Davids need to agree to share with her. And that means Clark is right: the fastest way to earn their trust is by sharing her thoughts with them again.

They already heard her thoughts. They know what she’s capable of, they know how cruel her thoughts can be. That’s part of why they don’t trust her now, but if she can make her thoughts healthier, if the relay can help make that happen—

She needed motivation. Now she has it, and a clear goal and a path to reach it. She just has to take the first step.

She walks to the sitting area and takes the loveseat closest to Divad. His expression had been open with Amy, sad and vulnerable but hopeful, too, and now it closes off.

"Back already?" Divad asks, coldly. It stings, but Syd took off yesterday and didn’t come back for hours. She earned this.

"I shouldn’t have left like that," Syd admits. "I’m sorry, it was— Thoughtless."

"You’re lucky David had a lot on his mind," Divad says. "He was too busy being upset about everything else to be upset about you."

That cuts right to Syd’s core. Divad managed to make her feel so unimportant, with so little effort. David would never say anything like that to her. And she thinks she can get this part of David to love her? To even tolerate her?

It’s probably impossible, but she still has to try.

"I was thinking about what you and Dvd did today, choosing to share your thoughts with David," she starts. "It was very hard for you, but you did it because— Even though it’s scary, your relationship with David matters more to you than your shame."

Divad stares at her, taken aback. "Uh, yeah," he says. "I mean, it wasn’t really my choice, but—"

"It was," Syd insists. "You knew David deserved your respect. I want to give your system the same respect. So I've decided to allow Oliver to relay my thoughts to the mainframe."

Amy and Lenny feign surprise, but Syd knows they were keeping an eye on her when she left the lab. Divad looks past her to the stairs, and then Amy and Lenny look, too. David and Dvd must be coming over.

"I know my thoughts have been hurtful to you," Syd continues. "But I want that to change. If I can be helped the way your system has been— Maybe the three of you will allow me to share my thoughts with you."

Divad is not impressed. "You expect that to make us trust you?"

"I don't expect anything," Syd says, and it's not entirely a lie.

There’s a pause as everyone listens to something she can’t hear.

Divad turns back to Syd. "David says—" He pauses again. "David wants to know if you’re sure."

David’s worried for her? That gives her the strength to keep going. "My thoughts are dangerous," she admits. "Just like yours. I don’t want you to get the crown off and then— For my thoughts to put that stability in danger."

"David says you never even wanted to talk about your thoughts before," Divad relays.

"And that was wrong of me," Syd admits. "You heard everything I thought and ignoring that— All that did was hurt us. I pushed you away, I ignored my own problems, it was— It was abusive to both of us."

There's another long pause, and from the way everyone looks back and forth, Dvd and Divad are both talking.

"Dvd wants to know why you left," Divad relays. "He wants to know what you were thinking when you found out about him and David and Benny. And, uh, David wants to know, too. And frankly so do I." He gives her a challenging look.

Syd reminds herself that David needs to be able to stand up to her, to have his own personal boundaries. And they can't just let things lie anymore. Letting things lie almost destroyed them without Farouk doing anything but— Sitting back and watching the fireworks. "I was jealous," she admits. "I am jealous of Dvd, of Lenny, of—" She forces herself on. "Of everyone David loves who isn't me."

Syd glances around at everyone. Amy and Lenny already heard most of that, but Divad isn't surprised at all. Clark wasn't surprised either. Is she that obvious? She really was in denial, ignoring her own feelings while subjecting David to them.

Jesus, that's messed up. How did she not see it? She can't even remember all the things she thought. They were just thoughts, they didn't mean anything, they didn't matter. All that mattered were her actions, her words. She could control those.

But to a telepath, there is no difference between thoughts and words. David pretended there was for her sake, but that was just an illusion. If she's going to be with David, she really does have to change her thoughts.

"Dvd wants me to let you know that he's not going anywhere," Divad relays. "And— If you try to get between him and David—" He pauses again. "David says right now he's not with anyone. He has a lot to figure out about himself and he doesn't know what's right for him. But he's very sure that you two arguing over him is going to make him not want to be with either of you." He pauses. "Dvd's saying he's sorry." He turns away from Syd. "Yes, I know that was for David, but Syd should hear it, too. We're not sharing the relay, that doesn't mean we shouldn't share what we're saying. When I'm not in our body I want her to hear me."

"David, I'm sorry, too," Syd says. "You asked us to acknowledge our feelings and not do anything more than that. You need to be able to choose what you want for yourself."

"Dvd agrees," Divad relays, then listens. "David says thank you. And he says— He's glad you're letting Oliver help you. Oliver's helped him a lot and— If this is what he used to do, it's amazing and— David hopes someday he can help people the way Oliver has."

'That's very kind, thank you,' Oliver thinks, and everyone hears him. 'Syd, shall we begin?'

"Should we wait for Ptonomy?" Syd asks. She knows this is the right decision, but—

"Nah," Lenny says, her chin resting on Amy's shoulder. "Let him have his downtime, we got this."

"Behave," Amy warns Lenny. "This is a big step for Syd." She turns back to Syd. "Don't worry. We've all had lots of practice handling the Davids' thoughts. Whatever comes up, we'll talk about it and it'll be okay."

Syd thinks it's easy for Amy to say that when she's got Lenny snuggling her and Divad holding her hand. Syd feels so jealous of her for having that, and she feels jealous of Divad and Lenny for having Amy when Amy's Syd's friend now.

God, she's doing the same thing to Amy that she does to David. What's wrong with her?

"Okay, Oliver," Syd says, before she can run the other way until she hits another wall. "You can start now."

Chapter 95: Day 11: Sometimes we learn the wrong things. (Syd)

Chapter Text

It doesn't feel any different, having her thoughts relayed. Syd knows it's happening but she can't see it or feel it, and even though Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy can all hear what she's thinking right now, Amy and Lenny aren't reacting and Ptonomy isn't in the room.

Out of sight, out of mind. It'd be so easy to forget what's happening if she lets herself, the same way way she let herself forget that Oliver and Farouk can hear her thoughts, that they've been hearing her thoughts all this time. The same way she ignored the fact that David could hear her thoughts and they were hurting him.

No, them. The Davids. Divad and Dvd might not be able to hear the thoughts of others the way David can, but they can hear David's thoughts. And David must have told them everything, the disembodied voices that sounded so much like his own and wanted to help him. God, that morning when they found out about the alters, that David still wasn't alone in his head, that he was still being controlled by other minds—

But Divad and Dvd aren't Farouk. David's working hard to accept them, to accept himself as part of their shared system, and Syd needs to accept them, too. She needs to connect with them, she needs—

She needs them to love her. She needs all the Davids to love her the way David loves her, because love makes her strong. Because she can't survive alone. Because if Divad and Dvd don't love her, either they'll take David away from her or David's love for her will pull his system apart, and then what? It would be so easy for Farouk to set her and the Davids against each other again, to manipulate them into another terrible mistake. David's sheer vulnerability might be part of why she fell in love with him, but if his love is what makes her strong—

She's watching him now, David. But David's not in his body, he's back up in the loft with Dvd and Kerry and Oliver. He could have stayed with her but he chose Dvd over her and that's— It's really hard for her to not be angry about that, even though David said he isn't with anyone right now no matter what feelings he has. Even though he desperately needs to heal his system and obviously that takes priority over healing his relationship with her. Even though they spent the morning coaxing David into accepting how much he does still feel for her.

It's Divad sitting on the sofa with Amy, struggling to open back up again after Syd interrupted them. Lenny's still snuggled up against Amy's back, arms around her waist, and— God, Syd wants that, she wants it so much. To hold someone like that— She's never held anyone like that, not with her own, actual body. What would it feel like? How would it compare to holding hands, to a hug, to a caress? Would it feel like holding David in the white room? He was always the big spoon when they curled up in bed together to sleep, but sometimes she just held him. Would it be different to hold Amy? Would it feel more intimate? Less? Would it upset her the way Amy's caress did this morning?

She doesn't know. But now that she can finally get what she needs, it hurts to not have it. It hurts to be so close to David and know he loves her but still be denied everything he used to give her. It hurts to sit here and watch Lenny and Divad both touching Amy and be denied that, too. It was always so much easier to ignore how much she wanted, to strangle her heart with pain until it was numb, like a sleeping limb. It was easier to pretend her heart wasn't even hers, that she could kill it completely and be free of it. That's the only thing she wanted to do until she met David, until his love woke her up.

But it's her heart, beating and alive at the center of her. She can't afford to ignore it anymore. The situation is too dangerous and everything is at risk. She needs to let herself feel what's in her heart and in her body, and trust that it won't destroy her and David and everyone else along with them.

The thought alone is terrifying, but at least she's not the only one dealing with it. If David can do it, if he can face his past and his trauma and the parts of himself that were cut off from his awareness, so can she. They can do it together. Ptonomy keeps saying it will be easier if they do it together. She's the one who's been holding herself back from that. She has to push herself forward.

She can do this. She can accept help. She can give and receive love. She needs to trust her friends, not her enemies. She needs to be open and vulnerable. That's the only thing that's going to save her.

§

Opening up and being vulnerable is going to ruin everything.

No matter how much everyone assures Divad that it's safe for him to let down his guard, that he needs to be honest with them and with David for their system to heal and be healthy— The safest thing has always been for their system to keep everything inside, for him to keep everything even deeper inside. The truth was only ever used against them to make their lives even more of a misery. Secrecy was the only way they could protect what little they had.

And now, as part of their therapy, Divad has to sit with someone and he has to talk to them — and not about science, but about himself, his feelings, his thoughts. So he's sitting with Amy and talking to her, or trying to. And now Syd is sitting with them, silently watching them while her private thoughts are exposed to the world, just like their system's has been. But it's not the mainframe or the world that Divad's worried about, not directly anyway.

David can hear everything Divad thinks and it's piped right into his head where he can't ignore it. All of Divad's terrible, monstrous thoughts, thoughts he's never been able to stop without turning himself off—

It's like the relay is a truth drug, forcing him to say things out loud so David only has to hear him from the outside and not the inside. And with David up in the loft, unable to see Divad, distracted by Kerry and Dvd and Oliver—

If he has to tell his secrets to someone, he wants it to be Amy.

"I know it's—" Divad says, struggling as he forces himself to speak before he can think. "What he did to us, to me— It wasn't David's fault, it wasn't—"

"It wasn't your fault either," Amy soothes.

It helps to hold Amy's hand. Even with Lenny snuggled up against Amy's back, watching them as silently as Syd, the touch of Amy's hand gives Divad something that makes the words come out easier. "I'm sorry about— You probably—"

"I don't hate you," Amy says, stroking the back of their hand. "You're my brother, Divad. You always have been. David's right, what you've done to him, what he's done to himself— It's the same."

"It doesn't feel the same," Divad admits. "All those years I was trapped— I was so angry at David, I was— Even though I couldn't do anything— What if he still heard me? There was so much noise in our head, but— I'm the reason David hung us."

"David hurt your system because he was afraid and in pain," Amy soothes. "It's the same reason why you've hurt David. Neither of you wants to hurt your system and you don't have to."

Divad takes a shaky breath and wipes at their eyes with their free hand. "It's worse, not being— Just a part of him. A stress response. Being me. I wanted to be me so much, but—" He wipes at his eyes again. "If I'm me— I just wanted him to stop screwing everything up. We're so powerful, it would have been so easy for us to hurt someone."

"But you didn't," Amy says. "And not because Farouk held you back. Because you care too much about other people to want them to suffer. That's how David feels."

"It's how he feels now," Divad says, unhappily. He glances up at the loft, then lowers his voice. "Farouk took that from me and— And put it into him."

"David didn't care about anyone else before college?" Amy asks, skeptical.

"Of course he did, but— People scared him," Divad says. "That's why he needed us to share with him all the time, to feel safe. Not just from the monster, but— Everyone else."

"David was a very sensitive baby," Amy recalls. "He was able to hear our thoughts and— Those must have been very confusing and upsetting for him. Maybe the reason he would only calm with me was because— When I was with him I didn't think about anything else but how much I loved him."

"I don't remember, but— Yeah," Divad says, his tension easing. "That's— Always how you made us feel, when we were little." He squeezes her hand, but look down, avoiding her eyes. "Safe. Loved."

"I'm sorry that changed for us. I never wanted you to feel like— You were unwanted."

"I know," Divad says, softly. "But David got the worst of it. He always got the worst of everything. I think— Keeping all the outside telepathy for himself— That was the same as giving us all his shielding."

"Telepathy hurt your system?" Amy asks.

"It hurt us a lot," Divad admits. "People lied to us all the time and we always knew. Eventually we realized that a lot of the time they were lying to themselves, but— It felt the same." He glances at Syd, then looks back at Amy. "And the schizophrenia diagnosis made everything so much worse. The more crazy you thought we were— The worse it was for David. The things he heard—"

"Did he tell you about them?" Amy asks.

"Sometimes," Divad says. "He didn't like talking about it. He tried not to even think about it, but— The worst things— Haunted him and— Dvd always said— It didn't matter what everyone else thought. David had us and he didn't need anyone else, all those people who hurt us, who—" He pauses again, struggling. "If we get the crown off—"

"You don't want David to be hurt that way again," Amy guesses.

"Hearing everyone's thoughts— All that did was hurt him," Divad insists. Even if David has changed, even if he's stronger now— "Maybe he can handle us, but— He can't handle hearing the whole world. When Farouk remade him, he knew, he made David doubt everything so he wouldn't go crazy again."

"I don't think that's true," Amy says. "Farouk didn't want to protect David. He sabotaged him, did terrible things to him all the time."

"I was the only thing keeping David in line and the monster took me away from him," Divad insists, tightly. "I stopped David from— I saved him from himself, I did what was best for the world."

Syd gives a small, sharp gasp. But when everyone looks at her, she says nothing. Maybe Amy and Lenny hear something, but they don't tell Divad what it is.

"I think," Amy says to Divad, carefully, "Your system has never wanted to hurt anyone, even itself, even when parts of it were very scared and angry. Dvd has some of the same powers as David, but he's only ever used them to protect your system, to keep it safe. Do you think Dvd has too much power?"

"Dvd's not David."

"But he is," Amy reminds him. "And so are you. The little baby I held in my arms, he's all three of you now. You should help David manage his powers, but— Not because he needs to be saved from himself. Because with your help, he can save others. He can help make the world a better place. Don't you want that?"

"I mean— Yeah," Divad says, uncertain.

"When you made the plan with David to leave here," Amy says, "David wanted to go somewhere quiet and green. Is that what you wanted?"

"No, but—" Divad gives a frustrated huff. "I wanted a lot of things, and that got me—" He falters but keeps going. "Punished."

"You were made a prisoner in your system's body for ten years," Amy says, stroking their hand again. "It must be hard to want anything after that."

Divad gives a tight nod. "We just— Needed to get away from— All of this. David needed to get away. It was David's life, not ours, not mine, I—"

"It was never just David's life," Amy says. "But I think— It's like David's shielding and his telepathy. It had to be David's life because— It's been a terrible thing to be David. How old were you when you found out about DID?"

Divad startles at the question. "Um— Pretty young. We— David realized there was something different about us, that— Other people were alone in their heads. We thought maybe it was because we're mutants, but— The book didn't say anything so— We tried the library."

"And you found a psychology book?" Amy asks.

"We read a bunch of things," Divad says. "We didn't know what we were looking for, but— The idea of— Multiple minds in one body— It was multiple personality disorder then, MPD, and— None of the books agreed about what we were. Some said we were just something David made up for attention. Obviously that was wrong, but— Most of them talked about trauma, and we had a monster in our head, so—" He shrugs. "That made the most sense."

"But the books back then," Amy says. "Especially the ones in a small town library— They didn’t recognize you as individuals."

"No," Divad agrees. "We were just— Stress responses. Not real."

"You were always real," Amy says. "Those books were wrong."

"We didn't want to be real," Divad admits, tersely, letting his thoughts appear on their tongue. "We thought— Not being real kept us safe. If we were— If we were nothing, the monster would leave us alone." He gives a bitter laugh. "And it did, sometimes. But that was a trick, he tricked us into torturing ourselves. He must have loved that so much."

"I'm sure he did," Amy says, soberly. "It's so important that your system stops torturing itself, Divad. That you love each other and yourselves instead of— Denying your right to exist. You exist, Divad. Just like David and Dvd exist. You're all full people who deserve to be alive and loved and safe. Even when you're afraid, hurting your system is never the answer."

Divad doesn't respond, but he holds Amy's hand with both of theirs, like it's a lifeline.

"Can I hug you?" Amy asks, hopeful.

Divad looks at her, uncertain. He looks past Amy's shoulder. "Lenny's pretty firmly attached."

"She has to share," Amy says, amused. She pries Lenny's arms from around her middle, and predictably Lenny grumbles but she sits back. Amy opens her arms, and Divad haltingly moves towards her. She closes the last distance and pulls him close, and he's stiff in her arms. But she keeps holding him and he eases, holds her back, gives a shaky breath.

Amy rubs Divad's back, soothing him. "When's the last time we hugged?" she asks.

"College," Divad says, because of course it was. Everything good ended there. "You visited us a month before— You hugged us goodbye."

"I remember," Amy says, softly. "I remember all the years we had together, Divad. I love you, Divad, I always have. I've always loved every part of my baby brother."

Divad makes a choked sound and buries their face against her hair. Amy.

"I miss you," Divad admits. "I've been so alone—"

"I missed you, too," Amy says. "But we're together again. We're both here. We'll get through this together and help each other and— We'll be the family we always should have been, all four of us."

"But the things I've done," Divad protests. "If you love David— How can you forgive me?"

"Because I love you, too," Amy says. "All I want is for my brothers to be happy and healthy. I forgive you, Divad, because you're my brother and you've suffered so much, and— Because I failed you. You were only put into that terrible situation at all because me and Mom and Dad didn't keep you safe. If Mom and Dad were here— If they'd had the chance to know you the way I do, they would love you the way I do."

"No," Divad protests, but weakly.

"They would," Amy insists. "They always loved all of David. Especially Mom. She loved all of you so much."

"I miss her," Divad sniffs, crying harder now. "David forgot her, it hurts so much—"

"It does," Amy says. "But we remember her. We love her, we love Dad— Even though they're gone, we love them."

Divad closes their eyes tight and their face is wet with tears. "They wouldn't let us go to the funeral."

"I know. That was my fault, Divad, I'm so sorry. I left you in that place and I'm so, so sorry."

"You had to," Divad insists, through their tears. "I couldn't stop David anymore, you had to— We had to lock him away."

Amy pulls back from the hug to look at him. "Locking him away didn't help him, Divad. Clockworks was a terrible place, and— I know you'd never want David to be a prisoner in your system's body again."

Divad look away from her, ashamed. "No."

"The right kind of help is what your system's getting now," Amy continues. "We're helping your system heal so you can be stable." She touches his cheek, strokes it. "Don't you want that?"

"Don't take the crown off," Divad begs, quietly. "Please."

"Because of David?" Amy asks, concerned.

"Because of me," Divad admits. "I can't— If we lose the relay— I need someone to hear my thoughts or I won't— I'll ruin everything."

Amy gives him a sad smile. "Did you ruin everything before? Think about what Lenny said."

"She said to blame the monster, not our system," Divad says, trying not to be skeptical. He knows she's right, but—

"Of course you made mistakes," Amy soothes. "We all make mistakes. But nothing's ruined. What was it you said before? About apologies?"

"We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do," Divad recites.

"That's right," Amy says, and it reminds Divad of when they were small. He remembers Amy sitting with them, teaching them, smiling and giving them a hug when they did things right. She always made everything feel okay, if only for a while. "That's a healthy idea for your system. And that's in your mantra. Tell me what that is again?"

Divad feels like a child again, being guided to the answer. "We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop."

Amy gives him an approving smile. "Even when the crown and the relay are gone, all three of you will have those words. You'll have your foundation, too, when you've made it together. You'll all be working together, helping each other, so none of you has to be afraid. Just like you did for David, but for your whole system. Because you're all Davids. You're all my Davey, my baby brother."

She pulls him into another hug, and this time it's easier for Divad to accept it. It feels like their whole body needs her to hold it. Divad was trapped for years, but even David— They couldn't reach past the barrier in the visitor's area so Amy could hold them like they needed her to. Clockworks treated them like prisoners, not patients, not people who needed care and support. They were just bodies to be subdued, beaten down, used—

"I hated that place," Divad admits, so he doesn't keep thinking about it. "I hated what they did to to David, to us— I hated knowing the monster wanted us there and there was nothing we could do to stop him. I hated feeling like we deserved to be there, we had to be there because— If we weren't there, David would have—" It's hard to speak, their throat is so tight. "He'd have killed us, and he wouldn't even—" Tears pour down their cheeks again. "He wouldn't even know. He couldn't hear us. He couldn't hear us."

Amy hushes him, soothes him. "You're never going to be forgotten again, Divad," she promises. "The whole world knows you're here. No matter what happens, someone will always know you're here."

Divad sobs. He clings to Amy, wishing she hadn't lost her body, wishing so many awful things had never happened. But the awful things weren't David's fault, they were the monster's. The monster did them. They weren't David's fault, they weren't Divad's fault— But that only makes Divad feel terrifyingly helpless. For ten years, he couldn't do anything but watch, and before that—

"I don't want to be a David," he whispers. He wants to be a stress response again, to not be real at all, to be nothing more than a way for David to keep himself safe. He tried so hard to be a person in college and it destroyed them. He shouldn't ever be a person.

"You are a person, Divad," Amy insists. "You always were. And what happened in college wasn't your fault. Nothing you did made Farouk hurt your system, nothing. He made the choice to hurt you. It's okay to be angry with him. It's safe to let that out."

Divad shakes their head. "It's never safe," he says, because he can't dare to think that, to put that thought in David's head. "Whatever we build, he destroys."

"We won't let him destroy what we're building now," Amy says, certain. "Your mantra, your foundation? There's nothing he can do to take those away from you. If you make them yours, if your whole system makes it yours, they'll always be yours. Always, Divad. And you'll always have each other. David and Dvd want to love you, Divad. They want to be with you the way we're together now. You just have to let them."

"I want to," Divad admits. But it's hard, it's so hard. He's so afraid— And Dvd hates him and— David— "I tortured him, I—"

"I know," Amy soothes.

"I'm a monster," Divad whispers. He's Farouk's son, that's all he is.

"It wasn't your choice," Amy says, firmer now. "It wasn't your choice, Divad. He invaded your system's body, he tortured it. He chose to do that and nothing your system did caused it. What matters is what you do now, what you choose now that you're finally free. Don't love your mistakes more than your system, Divad. Don't let them eat you alive."

"The parasites," Divad says, remembering. The image of infestation still makes him shudder. And David thinking there was nothing left of them, that they'd already been eaten alive. Divad can't help but feel the same way.

"You survived," Amy insists. "Your whole system survived. You were apart for a long time, but now you're together again. Just like we're together. You were apart and now you can be together."

Divad wants that. He's been apart from his system for so long, even longer than he was apart from Amy. How can they ever fit together again? They're all too broken to fit.

"You're making a new system, remember?" Amy reminds him. "One for the way you are now. Have you thought about that? What you want your system to be?"

"I don't—" Divad starts. He hasn't. "I'm afraid to."

Amy pulls back again, strokes their arm. "Every time we make a healthy choice for ourselves and the people we love, that makes all of us a little safer. What would be healthy for you? What would make you feel better?"

"I don't know," Divad admits. "I've always— I didn't matter. Only David mattered, but David—" He swallows. "I don't know how to stop feeling angry or guilty or— Both, all the time. And I hate feeling so— Out of control. Like David. He was always so out of control, I just wanted—"

"You feel helpless," Amy says.

"I hate it," Divad says. "I hate it so much." He looks at her, pleading for her to understand.

"You've always tried to be the one who held everything together," Amy says. "You tried so hard to find a way to save your system from the monster, and when that failed— I know it's not the same, but I went through something so much like what you went through. I tried to save David the only way I knew how, and then— I was imprisoned in my own body. I had to watch as— As someone else lived in it, abused it with drugs—"

Lenny stiffens and frowns, and Amy pauses. They must be talking privately over the mainframe. Then Lenny slumps again.

"Losing control like that, losing my ability to— Be in the world—" Amy continues. "And losing Ben—" Her face creases with grief, but she breathes through it. "Having my husband ripped away like that, so suddenly— It's like the way you lost David. So I understand, Divad, I truly understand. And the fact that you survived all of that, that you endured it— You're so brave, you have— So much courage." She puts her hand over their heart. "You have so much love and hope, to go through all of that and come back and be there for David when he didn't even know who you were."

"I had to," Divad tells her. "That's what I'm for."

"You chose to," Amy insists. "You've never been helpless. You always made the choice to be there for your system however you could. You made the choice to love your system and hope for it and learn how to protect it with everything you have. And because of that love, your system is healing. You just have to let yourself heal with it."

Divad puts their hand over Amy's, holds on to it.

"Sometimes we learn the wrong things," Amy continues. "Learning that you were only a stress response— I think you needed to believe that very much, to survive. But pulling away from what you were experiencing, denying that it was your life, too, dissociating so much— That's what made you feel truly helpless. And it wasn't fair to make David carry all of that. It wasn't fair for any of you."

Divad never— He never thought about it that way. Being a stress response became part of who he was such a long time ago. He can't really remember how he felt about himself before that.

"I think you felt like David," Amy says. "Afraid of the monster, confused and scared by the world. You wanted to feel safe, so you made a choice. And now you have the chance to make a different choice, a healthy one, so your system can be truly safe."

"But what should I do?" Divad asks, genuinely wanting to know. He tried taking charge of their life, but the monster—

"You failed because you tried to save them alone," Amy says. "You need to let David and Dvd in. You need to let them help you. You all need to be in charge together and decide things together. You need to stop dissociating from each other."

"I've been— Dissociating from my system," Divad realizes. "And myself?"

"Just like David," Amy says. "Dissociation is very powerful. It's how all three of you survived. But you need to come back together, like we're together now. You need to open up your heart the way you've opened your thoughts. There's no relay for our hearts, Divad. We have to open them ourselves."

Divad feels the press of Amy's hand over their heart. He tries to imagine— David's hand over their heart, David holding him— And it feels strange and wrong, he's always been the one who helped David, who took care of David—

But the way David is now, this David who— Who's different than he used to be— There's parts of Divad in David now, his memories, his desire to protect and help, maybe even— his bravery? David was always so afraid. But it was easy for Divad to be brave when he let all the bad things happen only to David and not to him, whether he was a stress response or a separate person. It made it easy for Divad to blame David for everything they were suffering, because none of it was happening to him, even though it was.

He doesn't know how he's supposed to feel about all of that. He just feels— Scared and confused and— He feels alone and— He doesn't want to be alone anymore.

"You've never been alone," Amy promises. "Me and David and Dvd have always been with you, no matter how far apart we were. All you have to do is stay with us. Let us be with you and help you. We love you, Divad. We love you so much."

Divad takes a shaky breath. Amy loves him? Amy loves him. She knows him, she understands him, and— She loves him.

Divad reaches out and pulls Amy into another hug, holding her so tightly. Then he loosens his grip, but— He holds her. He lets her hold him, and— Some small part of the awful tension in his chest loosens, lightens.

He's not a stress response. He's not a separate person. He's a David— And maybe that's okay.

"That's a wonderful thought," Amy praises, warmly. "I'm so proud of you, Divad."

Divad smiles against Amy's hair. He feels— Happy? He felt good helping Cary and Oliver, he felt proud and satisfied to use his knowledge to help, but— To have Amy praise him for having healthy thoughts—

That's what he wants. He wants it so much, to have someone— Protect him and love him and— Help him have healthy thoughts—

"Maybe you can ask David and Dvd to help with that," Amy says.

Divad sobers, pulls away from Amy's embrace. "They don't need me. They have each other." He can hear it, how happy they make each other. It makes him feel so alone.

"I think David has enough love for both of you," Amy says. "He wants to help you, Divad. He wants to be with you. He keeps reaching out for you. You just have to take his hand."

"We can't touch when we're separated," Divad says.

"It'll be Dvd's turn to have your system's body soon," Amy reminds him. "David will need you to stay with him. He wants you to, we've both heard it. Maybe— If you open up to David, he'll be able to give you what you need."

"Maybe," Divad says, doubtful, but— The idea lingers in him anyway. The image of David's hand over their heart—

No. It feels ridiculous to ask David to love him when he's the one who's hurt David so much. He tortured David, he tortured him, not just in college but for years, with cruel words and judgement. He doesn’t see how they could be anything but over. They’re never going to be a system again. Divad ruined all of that. It’s done, it’s over, no hope of return.

But David forgot. He knows what happened but he can't actually remember it. It feels wrong to be glad that David forgot when that hurts him so much, but— If David remembered, he'd never—

Maybe this is a second chance for them. Maybe leaving all that behind— Maybe they really can just start over. Make the system they want to have, be the people they want to be—

And in that small space in his heart, the lightness there, Divad feels a spark of hope.

Chapter 96: Day 11: Are you prepared to be reborn? (Lenny)

Chapter Text

Syd's jealous. Syd's unbelievably jealous of Lenny, privately dying inside of jealousy of Lenny for being snuggled up with Amy, and Lenny just basks in every relayed thought. Everyone should be jealous of Lenny right now, she's got the best seat in this place and she knows that for a fact. Even Divad's jealous, mixed-up kid that he is, and he's been holding Amy's hand and haltingly talking to her for a while now, despite Syd's dramatic interruption.

They'll all have to wait their turns. Lenny's not giving up the one thing that's helping her feel like herself again, whoever herself even is anymore.

Maybe Amy was right to give her the foundation speech. The inside of her head is starting to sound a lot like the inside of David's. It's just— She thought she had a handle on things. And maybe if she hadn't lost her body again she would have been just fine, but—

Going back to her old life, blowing off some steam, yeah, it felt good. That party felt real good, and driving New Janine out of her tiny brain felt even better. But when it was over, she could think was: what the hell was she doing there? Yeah, Amy annoyed her into getting off her ass, but finding that car, going off to save the world? Fuck yeah that felt good. Like it felt good to help Ptonomy claw David back from the shit beetle. Like it felt good to be David's hero all day yesterday.

But being a patient isn't entirely awful if it gets her this. Kerry felt good, yeah, for a brief, glorious moment. But clinging to Amy like a baby monkey makes her feel more than good. It's like some lizard part of her brain is getting its chin scratched. She's never been much of a cuddler, she was too jumpy to just lie in some chick's arms without doing something about it. But this? She could do this all day.

She sighs and nuzzles against Amy's shoulder. She shifts her grip around Amy's waist, tempted again to explore, but she doesn't want to end up having to cuddle with, like, Ptonomy or Cary or Oliver. They’re great and all, helping the Davids, but that's a hard no. If she has to cuddle someone else, she supposes she could handle baby-monkeying a David. Kerry's out, the only reason she hasn't already kicked Lenny's ass is because Amy talked her out of it. And Syd? The two of them can barely hold a civil conversation, forget snuggles.

It's a shame they gotta keep this whole situation so tight. Yeah, there's the night crew helping out with the science stuff and Ptonomy's getting some private time with his family. But this is a psychic battlefield, and the game pieces are relationships, emotions, ideas. The Admiral's already busy running simulations, running the odds with the pieces they have.

They could bring in New Janine. She's a known factor, no ties, and it's not like it would be hard for D3 to find her and drag her in. But as cute as she is, Lenny'd feel shitty putting her at risk of being tortured forever. Besides, Lenny's banged plenty of chicks like her, and they're fun for a night or three, but then—

Lenny's not sure what. She has two sets of memories, and the one she remembers better isn't the one that's real. It was one thing when she thought Benny was alive somewhere, living it up as an asshole junkie. Being trapped for so long, barely knowing where and who she was? It was soothing to think of Benny that way, free and wild. It made her feel less dead. But surprise, Benny's the dead one, he wasn't even alive when Farouk killed her. Which means the Benny parts of her aren't even Benny at all. They're just— Some bullshit Farouk dreamed up after years sitting around David's head while David sat around a mental hospital. They're David's memories of Benny and whatever Farouk got from all his spying, which must’ve been a lot, but— It wasn't the real Benny copied into her. It was Farouk's Benny.

That's what she is. A Farouk-Benny cocktail, sweetened with Lenny syrup to make it go down easy for David.

The knowledge makes her feel sick. It makes her want to run to the sink and throw up like David did, like Syd did, but this body's got no stomach to empty. There’s no bile or spit, there's no physical release for what she's carrying inside her. All she can do is hold on to Amy and breathe, because at least these bodies do a good simulation of breathing. Aesthetically accurate.

Fuck. She doesn't think she'll ever be able to let Amy go.

Lenny searches around for a distraction, and she doesn't have to go far. David and Dvd are back up in the loft with Oliver and Kerry, and David and Dvd are, ah— Thinking about each other. It's almost as halting as Divad's attempts to open up to Amy, to share his pain and guilt and anger. Dvd and David are all mixed-up too, but in a sweet kinda way. Dvd doesn't want to hurt David by wanting him too much even though he wants him a lot, and David isn't sure what he wants but keeps feeling things for Dvd anyway. He doesn't even know if his feelings are old or new or some combination of both, but there's something about loving Dvd that feels familiar and after the cherry memory David is jonesing hard for familiar. She wants to tell them to just kiss and get over themselves already, but Ptonomy made it extremely clear to everyone that they have to give David space to work as much of this out for himself as he can. He needs a kick once in a while to help him get past his massive denial skills, he needs loads of guidance, but— The kid's gotta do this himself or it won't be his.

Lenny relates to that way too much right now. She doesn't know what's hers anymore. Fuck, did she even call David 'kid' in her real memories? Benny was a lot older than both of them, maybe that’s where it came from. Her body's memories are frustratingly hazy. This must be how Oliver feels, straining for something he can pull out of the fog that isn't snatches of poetry. It's the fucking worst, she doesn't know how he's so calm about it. It creeps her out, thinking she might get so detached again she won't even care.

She didn't care about being detached when Farouk had her. If anything, she was grateful that nothing felt real. She felt that way about Clockworks, the way they had her drugged up all the time. Floating through life is how she's survived in all her memories. And now, if she doesn't get anchored fast, she might lose herself for good.

But Lenny's always been a survivor. She'll give that to Syd, survival's everything to her, too. The difference between them is she never wanted to survive alone.

David was her drug buddy, before Clockworks and in it. She knows how much he loves her, how much he wants to get closer to her the way he has with everyone else. She knows he wants to help her the way she's helped him. But she was the shit beetle's mask. She was the body he wore to hurt David, to torture him, to rape him. She doesn't want to admit to David that part of the monster is still inside her. She just got him back, he's all she has. If she loses him now, what's left to stop her from floating away again?

Amy’s got the same problem. Hell, so do Syd and Dvd. The four of them have each had a turn being all that David had, and he got them all hooked one way or another. Lenny doesn’t feel like she has to own David like Syd and Dvd do, she needs to live her own life. But she can’t lose him either, she just can’t.

She wonders if that's how Farouk feels. She knows how jealous he is, how possessive, how much he wants to own David, body, mind, and soul. Except even if he somehow made himself all David had, even if that got him hooked, he's the reason David needs so badly in the first place. How fucked up is that? Maybe she should be glad there's some Benny in her cocktail. Whatever he was actually like, at least he wasn’t Farouk.

Or Divad. It's incredibly fucked up that David needs to hurt himself so bad it takes two of himself to fit it all in.

"He can't handle hearing the whole world," Divad is saying, still going on about David. For the alter that supposedly wants to be his own person, he's as obsessed with controlling David as Farouk is. "When Farouk remade him, he knew, he made David doubt everything so he wouldn't go crazy again."

"I don't think that's true," Amy says. "Farouk didn't want to protect David. He sabotaged him, did terrible things to him all the time."

"I was the only thing keeping David in line and the monster took me away from him," Divad insists, tightly. "I stopped David from— I saved him from himself, I did what was best for the world."

Syd gives a small, sharp gasp. 'Just like Farouk,' she thinks, horrified.

Amy sends a question into the mainframe, then sends the surveillance clip she gets to Lenny: Syd and Farouk palling it up in the cafeteria right after David got knocked out and dragged down to the cells. Lenny was pissed off the first time she saw that footage. What the fuck was wrong with Syd, sitting down for drinks with the shit beetle?

"Shut up," Syd says, in the surveillance footage. "I know what you're doing and it's not going to work."

"Then you still love him?" Farouk asks, being a piece of slimy shit as usual. "Your David? You will let him back into your head, your heart, your body, after he has violated them?"

"He needs help," Syd says, defiant.

"Perhaps," Farouk says. "Perhaps it is my help that he needs. I have guarded him all his life, saved him from himself. A little boy with too much power. Can you imagine the devastation? One tantrum and he wishes away his mother, his father, his country. I have always done what is best for the world."

Saved him from himself. Did what was best for the world. Lenny flags the words and sends the clip to Ptonomy to chew on when he's done with his break. They might not be able to pick through Farouk's head directly, but with the Davids reenacting their trauma all the time, they don't really have to.

"I think," Amy says to Divad, carefully, "Your system has never wanted to hurt anyone, even itself, even when parts of it were very scared and angry. Dvd has some of the same powers as David, but he's only ever used them to protect your system, to keep it safe. Do you think Dvd has too much power?"

"Dvd's not David," Divad protests.

So only David has too much power. Lenny slaps another flag on the clip. Farouk used that idea to convince Syd to take David down in the desert. If it's in Divad's head, too, then he used it on David. Except power is the only thing Farouk cares about, she knows that for a fact. The only reason he'd say someone shouldn't have power is because he wants it for himself.

While Amy keeps working on Divad, Lenny skims through the surveillance feeds to soothe herself. It's weirdly relaxing to watch everyone like this, invisible and all-seeing. She could easily travel beyond D3, take a swim in the data feeds like Ptonomy used to. There's so much in the mainframe, it would be easy to lose herself there— But that's how Oliver lost himself on the astral plane. The thought pulls her back to the body she's in, to the body she's holding. If she's gonna stay herself, she needs to stay present, grounded. She needs to stay in the physical world, not the vast computer that's serving as her mind. She needs to be Lenny, not Benny, and absolutely not the shit beetle.

She's gotta take her own advice, she knows that. But knowing doesn't make it any easier.

§

Lenny has to share Amy for a while so Divad can get a few hugs in, but then she gets right back to her baby-monkeying. And then Ptonomy comes back and breaks up the fun. It's okay, if she starts to drift she can get another fix. And right now she feels like her lizard brain has been given its fill of chin-scratching.

Ptonomy calls everyone over and they gather at the table. Time for another snack, apparently. But he brought too many servings. Cary's still out so they should only need four, but there's— Seven?

"Before he had to go into Kerry, Cary and I discussed ideas for how to help Oliver reconnect with his memories," Ptonomy explains. "So for some of our meals, we're going to eat foods that have personal meaning to Oliver. Oliver, you traveled a lot. You like a lot of different foods. With each of these meals, I'm going to show you photographs from the times you were in the places where you might have eaten these foods. Our goal is to see if anything clicks, and if it does, to use these triggers to strengthen those connections. If David and Dvd are okay with it, I’d like you to stop relaying so you can focus on your memories."

He looks to the pair of empty chairs where David and Dvd are sitting. She caught David thinking about taking Dvd’s hand when they sat down, so he and Dvd must be holding hands again, as snuggled up as David is ready for them to be. Lenny's never gonna get over invisible David, no matter how many times he steps out of his body.

"We’re okay," David says. ‘I have Dvd.’

Lenny can’t see Dvd’s reaction to that, but she’s pretty sure it’s a happy one.

"Relay going off," Oliver announces.

"So what’s with the extra bowls?" Divad asks, probably to distract himself from whatever hearts are flying around David and Dvd’s heads.

"The extra bowls are actually for me, Amy, and Lenny," Ptonomy says, and starts distributing them.

"Uh, say that again?" Lenny asks. "We can't eat."

"We can't," Ptonomy agrees. "But we need these bodies to feel as real as possible, so we're going to try something new." He turns back to Oliver. "After David's comfort food was such a success, I thought we'd start with one of Oliver's. And since we're having success with China— This is congee, or Chinese rice porridge. It's a staple of Chinese cuisine. This is chicken congee, seasoned with green onions, ginger, and soy sauce. It's generally served for breakfast with yóutiáo, a Chinese pastry." He distributes long strips of fried dough, each wrapped in a napkin. He also gives Oliver a stack of photos.

Kerry gives her bowl a wary sniff. "Smells okay," she says, but she doesn't look certain.

"The congee is soft," Ptonomy says. "So it should be easy for you to eat. You might have more trouble with the yóutiáo, but you're supposed to dip it in the congee before you eat it. That'll soften it." He turns to Divad. "Divad, this is a chance for you to try something new and experience it with your system's body. I know your system never got the chance to travel, so think of this as the first step on your own personal world tour."

Divad smiles at that. "Thanks, Ptonomy."

"And Syd, I'm not sure if you've ever had this, but if not, it's something new for you, too. But what's more important is that we're sharing it together, as friends and family."

Syd gives a quiet smile, and looks at Divad and Amy, hopeful.

"What do we do?" Amy asks.

"Start with sensory therapy, like we've already been doing," Ptonomy says. "Smell the food, feel the yóutiáo, stir the congee. Stimulate your senses as much as possible."

Lenny's used to that by now. She picks up the bowl, feels the warm ceramic against her hands. She breathes in the steam from the congee. It smells savory, chickeny, the ginger and soy reminding her of all the cheap Chinese takeout places she used to eat at. With her mess of a brain, food as memory therapy isn't a terrible idea for her either.

She picks up the yóutiáo. It's like an unglazed doughnut, or a churro without the cinnamon-sugar. Seems kinda boring, but she feels the crusty texture, smells the oily dough. She wouldn't mind eating it, if only she actually could.

When the three of them finish, Ptonomy continues. "Okay. So the problem we have is that we can experience food through smell and touch, but we can't complete the sensations of eating. But being part of the mainframe does give us a real body: the Admiral's. So we're going to try something. He's got his own serving of the same food. And he's going to eat for us, and the mainframe will route his sensations to us."

"Uh, I thought if we felt his body, it would overwrite us," Lenny says, concerned. "The mainframe's supposed to protect us."

"That's true," Ptonomy agrees. "But these short bursts shouldn't be a problem. It might feel a little weird, but if we mimic the actions we're experiencing, using the same foods, it'll give us the illusion of eating with our android bodies."

"This is absolutely weird," Lenny says, despite her entire life being a mountain of fucking weird. "Okay, whatever, let's do it."

"I'm ready," Amy says, hopeful.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "We'll start with just the congee. Whatever we experience, just try to follow it. Just don't actually eat anything."

The three of them have been sharing experiences back and forth over the mainframe, but those experiences are from the past, like extremely vivid memories. This comes to her live. She's already holding the spoon, but she feels herself take the spoon. She feels herself lift the spoon and follows the sensation. She brings it into her mouth and— She tastes the congee, the rice, the ginger, the chicken. She feels herself chewing the soft grains, the small chicken pieces, the little circles of green onion. She feels herself swallow, feels the food in her throat and then a warm weight in her stomach.

Lenny has never been so aware of every single step of eating in her entire life.

"Weird," Divad says, watching their synchronized not-eating.

"Super weird," Kerry agrees, fascinated.

The sensations fade. She looks at Ptonomy and Amy.

"It'll take some getting used to," Amy admits. "But it felt real. It felt like eating."

Lenny's had too many times in her life where she barely had enough money to feed herself. And when she did get fed regularly, like at Clockworks, the food was crap. She just wanted to shove it into her stomach as fast as possible so she didn't have to taste it. Eating so slowly and deliberately is massively fucking weird. No wonder eating freaks Kerry out so much. "I've always been a fast eater. Is the Admiral gonna savor every bite?"

"These meals are therapeutic," Ptonomy reminds her. "Feeling the entire process will help our minds stay coherent. And if he eats too fast, we won't be able to move our bodies to match him. That will break the illusion. Let's try the yóutiáo."

It's easier now that Lenny knows what to expect. She mimics biting down on the pastry, chews and feel the resistance of the soft, crunchy dough, tastes the oil and the salt and a hint of sweetness. She likes it a lot better than the congee. She's never really been big on porridge.

Fuck, she's eating. She's not, but like— It really feels like she's eating.

"Okay," she says, as it sinks in. "Can I like, make requests?" She could have Twizzlers again, she could have chocolate, she could have an actual drink.

"Absolutely," Ptonomy says, pleased. "But remember that the Admiral has to actually eat for us to experience it. We can't abuse this. So we're not getting him drunk."

"Dammit," Lenny sighs. Ptonomy knows her too well. She didn't even get to ask.

"And for the sake of everyone's therapy," Ptonomy continues, "we'll still share the same foods as much as possible."

"Shit, this is wild," Lenny says, grinning. "Okay, from now on, I'm in charge of desserts."

"David wants to know if we can all ask for things," Divad relays.

"Everyone can contribute their requests," Ptonomy says. "Some things are fixed, like Oliver's memory foods, but the rest is flexible. Think about what you want and let me or Lenny or Amy know, and we'll work it in."

"Um, how about pizza?" Syd asks.

"I'm sure we can manage that," Ptonomy says.

"Dvd wants Hawaiian," Divad relays.

"Really?" Syd asks, disbelieving.

"David also wants Hawaiian," Divad relays. "I’m good with that."

Lenny thinks the Davids only like that because it has fruit on it. The Davids don’t have a single sweet tooth so much as an entire set.

Syd gives the empty chairs a tolerant look. "I’ll have green peppers and mushrooms."

"Boring," Lenny says. "I want a meat supreme." Yeah, just piles of pepperoni and sausage and bacon all slathered in cheese. Her mouth isn't watering because it can't, but it totally would if it could.

"We'll work something out," Ptonomy says, amused.

"Is pizza hard?" Kerry asks. She pokes at the yóutiáo. "I really don't like hard things."

"The top is soft," Ptonomy says. "But it has a chewy crust. You should rip up a few pieces of that and put it in the congee for a while," he says, pointing at her yóutiáo.

Kerry starts pulling tiny pieces off the pastry and drowning them in the congee.

"Divad, how do you like yours?" Syd asks.

"It's nice," Divad says. "It's like chicken soup with rice, but, um, more rice than soup."

"It is," Syd says, with a small smile. "Um, my mom used to make a lot of soup. For the salons. Everything was always— A presentation, fancy recipes. Sometimes she'd make the same dish over and over for days until she got it just right." She makes a face. "I'd get really sick of it, so I'd, uh, sneak out for pizza instead."

"So pizza's your comfort food?" Divad asks.

"Yeah, I guess it is," Syd says, looking between Divad and the empty chairs beside him. "It's not that far from cheese on toast."

"Yeah," Divad says, quietly. His eyes flick to where David is sitting, but he doesn’t relay anything. Whatever’s happening must be thoughts, expressions. Based on Divad's vague air of annoyance, Lenny’s sure if they could see David's face, he’d be looking at Syd all sappy. She knows David’s sappy face extremely well. There’s a part of her that’s annoyed at Syd for that, but she doesn’t know if it’s Lenny or Benny or—

She doesn’t know. There’s a lot she doesn’t know, and she’s starting to realize that’s not the kind of problem they can afford to ignore.

‘Hey, Ptonomy,’ Lenny says over the mainframe. ‘Think we can fit in that Benny session today?’

‘I think so,’ Ptonomy sends back. ‘You’re having trouble?’

‘Is it that obvious?’ Lenny asks.

‘We’re all keeping a close eye on each other,’ Ptonomy says. ‘We have to.’

‘Yeah,’ Lenny sighs. ‘I’m not drifting, I’m just— A cocktail. A shit cocktail.’

‘Don’t think of yourself that way,’ Amy says. ‘It’s not good for David, it’s not good for you.’

‘David's cocktail isn't full of Farouk,’ Lenny grumbles.

‘I know you feel defined by Farouk’ Ptonomy says, patiently. 'But so does David. If you can see the good in him, you can see it in yourself.’

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Lenny moans, but it’s hard to argue with that. She and David really do have way too much in common. Cocktail minds, messed-up memories, and hell, turns out he’s not even straight. She really should have figured that out ages ago, even before she was mixed with Benny. Hell, maybe she knew but Farouk made her forget.

Fuck, that’s creepy. It makes her feel like there’s no solid ground under her feet, just like David and his quicksand. She needs to know who Benny really was so she can figure out what parts of her are him and what’s Farouk and what’s left that could actually be the real her, if there’s anything at all. And the best people to help with that are Divad, Dvd, and Syd.

Syd knew the real Lenny for a year. Sure, they weren’t best buds or anything, but they were together pretty much all the time, a little mutual protection squad. And Farouk might have dipped into Syd’s head and nosed around, but every time he tried to do more than that, his changes never stuck. Syd’s powers might be a pain, but they’re a mental parasite’s worst nightmare. She just has too much coherence for him to do any real damage. He's still found plenty of ways to fuck with her, but he can’t make her lose who she is. If Lenny’s truly jealous of anything, it’s that.

"Oliver, does the food remind you of anything?" Ptonomy prompts. He reaches over and spreads out the photos so Oliver can look at them as he eats.

Oliver dips his yóutiáo and takes a bite, savoring it. He looks at the photos again, closes his eyes in thought. "Ordering peas in the French restaurant," he recites, "Whole garlic bread, cheese, and coffee hot. Pink ponk of the rain on the roof tin below my shuttered window."

"Okay, there's something there," Ptonomy says. "Keep tasting the food. Think about the feeling the poem gives you. Try to see yourself in the poem, eating the food."

They all watch Oliver eat, curious to see if this will work.

"It rained when you were in China," Ptonomy reminds him. "Listen to the sound of rain against the roof. Were you in the shelter? Somewhere else?" He nudges the photo of Melanie in a Chinese dress. "Maybe you were with Melanie."

"Melanie," Oliver murmurs. "There was a lamp."

"What kind?" Ptonomy prompts. "Electric? Candle?"

"Oil," Oliver says. "Conspirators at cafe tables discussing mystic jails."

"You were talking to someone," Ptonomy suggests. "Were you talking to Melanie? Can you see her with the lamp?"

Oliver's brow furrows. "Chinese coffee in small glasses."

"You were drinking something together," Ptonomy says. "Was it coffee?"

"Coffee," Oliver says, and opens his eyes in surprise. "I remember."

"Tell us," Ptonomy says, excited.

"I remember— Melanie," Oliver says, eyes distant as he looks at the photograph. "She was wearing this. It was late, we were tired, but— We didn't want to go to sleep."

"So you drank coffee?" Ptonomy asks.

Oliver nods. "I think— We were out somewhere. And then we came back."

"Stay with the memory," Ptonomy urges. "Try to remember the taste and smell of the coffee. Follow the feelings, let them lead you."

Oliver closes his eyes again, concentrates. "The skin trembles in happiness. The soul comes joyful to the eye." The words should be happy, but he doesn't sound happy. He shakes his head, disturbed.

"This is a powerful memory, Oliver," Ptonomy says. "Even in the ice cube, some part of this memory stayed with you. It's coming back to you now, don't fight it."

Lenny spent a lot of time with Oliver over the past year. They were both lost to themselves, barely anything but dolls for Farouk to pose and play with. But at least when they were together, they weren't alone. They were— Detachment buddies, floating through an ocean of horrors so they didn't drown.

She never saw him cry. Nothing's been real to him for decades, why would he cry? And now tears leak from his eyes.

"Oh," Oliver says, noticing them. He wipes them away and more fall in their place. "I think— I feel quite sad about something."

"About Melanie?"

Oliver looks confused. "I don't— I'm not sure."

'I wish Cary was awake for this,' Ptonomy mutters over the mainframe, and then aloud: "Take your time. Amy, could you get Oliver a coffee?"

"Of course," Amy says, getting up.

"Stay with the feeling," Ptonomy tells Oliver. "Don't let that sadness get away. I know it hurts, but there's so much connected to that pain. There's love so powerful it held on when everything else was gone. There's a whole life waiting for you to remember it. Just keep holding on to it."

"The churning of the ocean," Oliver recites, distressed. "I'm afraid where I am. No rest, no dreams— Who weeps for this pain?"

"Hey, it's okay," Lenny says, intervening. She pushes away the photos, the food.

"Lenny—" Ptonomy says, annoyed.

"Stop pushing him," Lenny tells Ptonomy, annoyed back. It's David all over again. "And forget the coffee. Forget all of this."

"He needs to remember," Ptonomy urges.

"And what's he gonna remember, huh?" Lenny asks. "What's that gonna do to him?"

"He needs the truth as much as we all do," Ptonomy says, certain.

"He's better off as a happy zombie," Lenny insists.

Ptonomy gives her a knowing look. "This isn't about Oliver."

"Fuck you," Lenny snarls. "You don't know."

"We know," Ptonomy says, firmly. "We know what he did to you, Lenny, and to Oliver. Just like we know what he did to the Davids. It's okay to be scared, but we have to keep going."

Lenny absolutely doesn't want to keep going, that's the last thing she wants. But before she can snarl that out, Oliver's hand touches her arm, and she startles.

"Back off," she spits, teeth bared.

"I appreciate your concern," Oliver tells her, calm again despite his reddened eyes. "But I want to remember."

Lenny stares at him. How is he so calm? No matter what happened to them, he was always so calm, and she thought— She just figured he was too far gone to care, but—

The kettle whistles, and Amy goes to make the coffee. She brings it over and gives it to Oliver, who stirs it before raising it to his mouth and breathing in deeply.

"The skin trembles in happiness. The soul comes joyful to the eye." Oliver cries as he recites the lines again, but— He's okay.

Lenny realizes she's been waiting for him to fall apart, to let out his emotions in some kind of uncontrollable explosion. But that's David's thing, not Oliver's. She never knew Oliver before the ice cube, but Cary remembers. From what he said, Oliver never floated through life. He used to feel plenty and he handled everyone else’s shit on top of his own. Maybe that was too much for him in the end, but Oliver was probably the least fucked-up person on Earth until the detachment syndrome got him and Farouk nearly finished the job.

She's the one who’s always been fucked-up and doesn't want to remember. She barely even wants to remember being Lenny. The only good thing in any of her memories is David, and what does that say about her? What's left of her for anyone to save? She’s not even real. Maybe she never was.

"Reality is a question of realizing how real the world is already," Oliver tells her, and it feels more like actual advice than some random quotation. "My fingertips touching reality's face, my own face streaked with tears in the mirror of some window at dusk. Gods dance on their own bodies, new flowers open, forgetting death. Are you prepared to be reborn?"

Lenny just stares at him.

Oliver takes a sip of the coffee and smiles.

Chapter 97: Day 11: You're both more than stress responses. (David)

Chapter Text

"'We're all Davids'," Ptonomy reads. "'We're all people. We're brothers.' These three ideas were suggested for your shared foundation. How do you all feel about them now?"

"Ah, I guess— I'm not sure about 'brothers' anymore," David admits. Or maybe brothers is what they were supposed to be and— Things went wrong? Maybe they shouldn't love each other that way?

'Oh no,' Dvd thinks, upset.

"That's a valid concern," Ptonomy tells them. "David, earlier you wanted to know if it was okay for identities to fall in love. Every system is different, but it's actually quite common."

"It is?" David asks, surprised.

"Identities don't really adhere to traditional ideas of social structure," Ptonomy explains. "An identity is not a separate person with their own physical existence. Members of a single system can vary drastically in age, gender, personality, memory, race, or even be constructed around fictional characters or animals. Their relationships can be just as varied."

"Animals?" The first thing David thinks of is when he found Syd on the roof, and she was playing with a dead pigeon. "Like when Matilda's mind is in Syd?"

"Yes, very much like that," Ptonomy agrees. "In fact, a common problem for identities is something called dysphoria." He looks over to Kerry, who's watching their session from one of the beanbag chairs. "Dysphoria is the feeling you get when your body doesn't match what your mind says it should be. It's what you felt when you were inside Cary, and it's what David felt after he swapped with Syd."

"Dysphoria," Kerry echoes, thoughtful.

"A lot of people struggle with dysphoria, with or without DID," Ptonomy continues. "It can be very uncomfortable and distressing. When Cary wakes up, that's something we're going to need to help him with." He turns back to the three of them on the sofa. "Fortunately, that's one of the few things your system doesn't have to deal with," he says, with gentle humor. "But to get back to your point: brothers may not be the best term to use, given your past relationship and the feelings you have now."

"But Amy's still our sister," Divad insists, tensing. 'I just got her back, I don't want to lose her.'

"She's still your sister, and you're all still her brothers," Ptonomy agrees. "No matter what terms you use, nothing will change the fact that you love each other."

Divad relaxes again. 'She loves me. Me.' He marvels at the idea.

David thinks it must have been awful for Divad and Dvd, always having to pretend to be him. He doesn't know if it was his idea or not, he can't remember, but— It wasn't right. It wasn't fair. It was— It was like when he tried to put his lamp back together with packing tape. Anyone could do a better job than an escaped mental patient weaning himself off an insane amount of Haldol. And anyone could build a better system than three traumatized children who were being tortured by a monster.

Divad turns and stares at him. 'I should have thought of that,' he thinks. 'Why didn't I think of that?' He looks away, back to Ptonomy. 'Because I was just a stress response?’

"You were never just a stress response," Ptonomy soothes. "David's coming to your system with a fresh perspective. That's helping you decide what's healthy for you now. That’s why I think it would be very helpful to read about the experiences of other systems. I've picked out a few autobiographies to get you started. I'd like all four of you to read them, talk about them. Cary too, once he's awake."

"But we might not even be a system," Kerry protests.

"That's true," Ptonomy admits. "But even if you're not, you two have a lot in common with systems like David. It will be very nutritious for you. Autobiographies are— They're a lot like having someone's relay. You get to hear their thoughts, see the world through their eyes. That can help you understand the world and yourself better." He softens. "I know this has all been a lot for you. But don't you still want to understand yourself?"

"Of course I do," Kerry insists. "I just—" She puts her hand over her belly. "I didn't think it'd be so—" She frowns. "I thought Cary being inside me would make everything okay."

"But it hasn't?" Ptonomy prompts.

Kerry shakes her head.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, and considers the four of them. "You know, sometimes when problems are overwhelming, we feel desperate for a solution. We tell ourselves: If I do one thing, everything will be okay. But that one thing doesn't fix all our problems. It can't. A lot of the time, it only ends up making our problems worse, and then we feel even more helpless and guilty, even more desperate for a way out. And we don't know what else to do, so we try that one thing again. That loop traps us and it's really hard to break it on our own."

"So how do we break the loop?" Kerry asks.

"We ask someone to help us," Ptonomy says. "Someone else can see what we can't. They have a different perspective, different knowledge and abilities. That's why it's so important to share our lives with people who care about us, and to not be afraid to ask for help when we're hurt or scared."

He looks to Divad, David, Dvd. He can't see two of them, but he looks because— They're people and they deserve to be treated like people. David couldn't accept that back when all this started, he didn't understand the point of leaving empty seats for his hallucinations. But Divad and Dvd were never hallucinations.

Dvd gives David's hand a squeeze, pleased by his thought. 'We've always been here,' he thinks to David. 'We never left you, not for a minute.'

'You didn't,' David thinks, and— It's getting easier to accept that, for that to feel like a good thing. Dvd's always been there, devoted to him unconditionally. No matter what happened, Dvd never stopped loving him. David's always had his lamp, he's always had Amy, and he's always had Dvd.

And Divad. He's always had Divad, too.

"You don't have to force yourself to love me," Divad says, unhappily. 'The first time was bad enough.'

'Coward,' Dvd thinks, mocking.

"It's easy for you," Divad says, angrily. "Why don't you talk to Syd again? Then we'll see who's a coward."

"Hey, you haven't talked to Syd either," Dvd returns.

"I did," Divad defends. "We talked over lunch."

"What, about pizza?" Dvd rolls his eyes. "Yeah, real deep."

"At least I didn't blow up because I was scared," Divad says. 'Scared because David loves Syd more than you.'

Dvd glares at him, looking mutinous.

David rubs his face, unable to even know where to start. "Divad, I don't know if we're brothers or something else, but whatever we are, we have to live together for the rest of our lives— Our life. I heard what you said to Amy. I know you feel— I know what happened between us was— Not great, but—"

"Not great?" Dvd says, disbelieving. 'He just tried to erase you like five minutes ago.'

"He's sick," David defends. "We're all sick and we're getting help so we can stop being sick. So we can stop hurting our system. Love is what our system needs to heal. I know you want that, I've heard you wanting it, so can we just—"

'I can't forgive myself,' Divad thinks, ashamed. 'You shouldn't forgive me either.'

"You won't even try?" David asks.

"You should understand," Divad says, annoyed. "You of all people— How long did it take you to forgive yourself for what we did to Syd? And that was nothing, it was a fucking mercy, wiping away a few measly hours where she was brainwashed and forced to hurt you." 'God, I wish I could forget everything I did to you.'

'I'm sure not gonna forget,' Dvd mutters.

"You're right," Ptonomy says to Divad. "Forgiveness is difficult and it takes time. Sometimes the hardest thing is forgiving ourselves. But David has made progress in forgiving himself for hurting Syd. Tell me how he did that."

Divad gives David an uncertain glance, then looks back to Ptonomy. "Um. He, uh, accepted what happened. He learned from it, worked through his feelings—" 'What was the last part?'

"He gave himself permission to heal," Ptonomy says. "David, do you think you could have admitted your feelings to Syd if you were still refusing to let yourself heal?"

"Uh, no," David agrees. He still has a ways to go, but— He wants to heal. He wants loving Syd to feel like loving Amy feels. He wants to share the peace of true forgiveness with her, and he wants it with Divad, too.

It still hurts, when he thinks of all the things that went wrong with Syd. He still feels guilty and confused and hurt, but— He loves her and she loves him. What they had, what they could still have together— It's worth the work. It's worth the risk. And Divad is worth the risk, too.

‘No, I'm not,’ Divad thinks, tightly.

"What's the alternative?" David asks him. "For you to hide in a white room for the rest of our life? I don't want that and neither do you. Whatever you did before— What matters to me is what you're doing now. You're healing our body and keeping me stable so I can heal my mind. You've been helping me sleep and protecting me from nightmares, nightmares Farouk has tortured me with my whole life, and you think I don't have any reason to be grateful to you? To want to get to know you and love you as— As a part of our system, as a part of myself that Farouk took away from me? Farouk took so much from me, he took everything, why would I not want to claw back every scrap I can?"

"So I'm a scrap?" Divad asks, self-effacingly.

"We're all scraps," David admits. "But they're our scraps. Whatever's left of us, it's ours, not his. Fuck the shit beetle, Divad. I know he's going to hurt us again, but you know what? Let him try." His stomach flips with fear at the challenge, but he keeps going. "We're stronger than him and we always have been." That's what Lenny said. "We don't belong to him, we never did. All we needed was the right help, and that's what we're getting now."

'I want to believe that,' Divad thinks, looking at David with pained, reluctant hope.

"I know it's hard," David says, gentler. "I know how— Impossible it can feel to hope for ourselves. But I've been letting everyone believe for me and— Now I think— You need to let me believe for you."

Divad looks torn, like he wants to accept David's hope but doesn't feel he should.

"We're all Davids, right?" David asks him. "And Davids are love. Even if you haven't been able to love me the way Dvd does— Even if you hurt me when you're scared— Every act of healing and protection you've given me has been done with love."

"It's just what I'm for," Divad protests. Healing and protecting David is what he was made for. He exists to keep David safe, just like Dvd.

"You're both more than stress responses," David insists. "Davids aren't stress responses, we're people. We're all full, whole people. If you believe that about me, you both have to believe it about yourselves."

Dvd and Divad both look skeptical. But they've believed they were stress responses for their whole lives. It's probably as hard for them to accept themselves as people as it's been for David to accept he's part of a system.

"I think this is a perfect moment to get back to your foundation," Ptonomy says. "You're all Davids. You're all people. How do the three of you feel about those ideas?"

"It's weird to not be a stress response," Dvd admits. "If anyone should be used to being a person, it's Divad. All this— Being projected and talking to other people— We used to share with David to help him, and we covered for him when he went away, but— I don't know about this whole— 'Living my own life' thing. We're a system, we don't have separate lives. We do everything together."

'Not everything,' Divad thinks, quietly.

"Oh, you wanna lay that down?" Dvd challenges. "You're as jealous of me as the shit beetle but when David tries to love you, you run away and hide. Coward."

"What, all of a sudden you want to share?" Divad challenges back.

"We've always shared," Dvd declares. "Sharing's our thing. You're the one who got selfish."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, intervening. "That brings us to the other half of your foundational ideas. This list is a bit longer. 'We share everything. We have healthy multiplicity. We don't stay angry on purpose. We forgive each other. We love each other. We accept each other.' How do you feel about these ideas? Let's start with 'We share everything.'"

"Of course we do," Dvd says. "When David's past all this possession trauma, everything will go back to how it was."

Divad makes a reluctant face, and so does David.

"Oh, come on!" Dvd says. "You don't seriously want to stay projected all the time?"

"I can't even share our body without being unconscious," David protests. "Even if we can eventually share when I'm awake— I can't see myself being able to tolerate sharing all the time or even wanting to."

"I'm the one who has to do all the work when we're sharing," Divad says. "I like being able to just be me. I want to just be me."

"But sharing's how we work," Dvd says, frustrated.

"You hate me, why would you even want to share with me?" Divad challenges. "Or is it just because you're afraid, coward. Chicken."

"Let's avoid any name-calling," Ptonomy says. "And let's discuss what sharing means as a concept. Is it just sharing your body simultaneously?"

"It's everything," Dvd insists. "It's sharing everything."

"But until today, you refused to share your thoughts with David," Ptonomy points out. "So there have always been limits to 'everything.'"

Dvd huffs. "I guess, but— That was to keep David safe. The only thing that mattered was keeping David safe."

"Because you were just a stress response," Ptonomy says. "I'm going to ask you something, Dvd, and I want you to be honest with yourself about your answer. Is a sexual relationship with David right for you? Is that what you want and need?"

'What.' "What kind of stupid question is that?" Dvd protests.

"I'm serious," Ptonomy says. "When you formed that relationship with David, it was under tremendous strain. Your system was isolated and lonely. David's well-being was your only priority, so you gave him what you believed he needed. Was it a mutual relationship for both of you?"

Dvd stammers. "I mean— It was— Of course it was mutual."

"Are you sure?" Ptonomy presses. "Because yesterday, you thought how it was a new experience for you to have David want you. To have him choose you and worry over you."

"Of course David didn't worry over me before," Dvd says. "I was just a stress response."

"But David did worry over you," Ptonomy counters. "He tried to protect you and Divad from the monster. He sacrificed his own well-being to keep the two of you safe from the trauma he endured. I think David always considered both of you to be more than just stress responses. That belief was one that you two took on to protect yourselves."

"I guess," Dvd admits. "But so what?"

"You were only twelve when your mother died," Ptonomy continues. "That was a deeply traumatic event for your whole system, but it sent David into what was likely his first truly self-destructive spiral. Based on the family photos and what Amy has told me, it was also around that time when puberty 'happened' to your system. Your system underwent all of this with Farouk as a constant presence, doing what he's always done, manipulating and torturing your system. And when David got out of control, the two of you imprisoned him in your system's body."

'This is not good,' Divad thinks.

'Shut up,' Dvd thinks back.

"What are you saying?" David asks, concerned.

"I want to make it clear that this is not about judgement," Ptonomy says. "And I'm not saying that you can't have a healthy sexual and romantic relationship with David now, if that's what's right for both of you. But for that to happen, David needs to know the truth."

"What's the truth?" David asks, looking to Dvd expectantly.

Dvd looks uncomfortable, guilty. David suddenly feels a lot less reassured by Dvd's presence.

"What did you two do to me?" David asks, pulling his hand away from Dvd's.

"You were out of control," Divad tells him. "You were going to get us all killed if we didn't do something. So yeah, we imprisoned you."

"It was just until you calmed down," Dvd defends. "We just had to calm you down."

"And what, sex was how you calmed me down?" David asks, upset.

Dvd looks away, ashamed. 'Please don't hate me.'

"Oh for—" David huffs. "Will you stop doing that?"

"To be fair, it's not like you two stopped after you were back in charge again," Divad says.

"But that didn't last long," Ptonomy points out. "By the time your system was preparing for college, David was a permanent prisoner. Divad, you've thought many times how Dvd and David's physical relationship made it easier to manage David, to keep him happy while you were in charge full-time. So Dvd, I'm asking you again: was your relationship with David mutual?"

"I've always loved David," Dvd insists, loudly. "And David's always loved me, even if—" He falters. "Look, I gave him what he needed. We couldn't love anyone else, it was too dangerous."

"Was it what he needed?" Ptonomy asks. "Was it what he wanted? What you wanted? You say Farouk is jealous of you. Was he involved?"

David's starting to feel queasy.

"The monster was always there," Dvd admits. "Of course he was involved, but— It had nothing to do with him."

"Ptonomy," David says, feeling more than a little ill now.

'I knew this was a bad idea,' Divad thinks.

"David, do you need to go back in your system's body?" Ptonomy asks, concerned.

"Um, probably a good idea," David admits. He feels faint, which is not a good sign.

"Divad," Ptonomy says. "I'm sorry for cutting your time short, but could you please switch with David?"

"Got it," Divad says. He leans back, then steps out of their body. He takes David's arm and helps him in.

David leans over his knees, taking slow breaths. Kerry gets up and sits on the table and takes his hand. "You're okay," she reassures him. "Just stay with us."

David holds her hand tightly. He feels stupidly grateful to have Kerry. God, at least one person in his life has never—

"I think I need to—" David says, and stumbles up. He makes it to the sink in time, at least. He pants over the mess and turns on the tap, washing down the remains of the congee and yóutiáo. He wanted to taste it before when he watched Divad eating, but not like this. He sticks his mouth under the tap and rinses out, spits.

"David," Dvd pleads, and David turns to see him standing a few feet away, looking heartbroken.

"No," David says, firmly. He is absolutely not ready to be with Dvd right now. He'd thought— He thought he felt—

He doesn't know what he felt. He doesn't know what he feels. His stomach threatens to rebel again just thinking about—

"Please," David begs, turning away from him.

'David,' Dvd thinks, mournfully. And then angrily: 'Fuck the shit beetle. Fuck him fuck him fuck him.'

"Let's take a break," Ptonomy says. "Divad, Dvd, I'd like you both to put your mental shields back up temporarily."

'Fine by me,' Divad thinks.

"David?" Amy comes over and touches him lightly on the arm.

Two people, David thinks. There's two people who haven't—

He pulls Amy into his arms and holds on to her.

Chapter 98: Day 11: Simple action and reaction producing madness on demand. (David)

Chapter Text

He is David. He survived. He didn't deserve what happened to him. He belongs to himself. He belongs to himself. Himself.

This, all of this— This is why David didn't want to do anything more than acknowledge his feelings. Why even acknowledging his feelings—

He wants nothing more than to just— Forgive everyone for everything and move on and just— Be happy. But he can't. He wants to forget and for the things he forgot to not matter, but they absolutely matter. He wants so much to just make all of this horror go away but it's part of him, it's inside him, it's almost all he is after decades of torture and mind games and—

NO, he writes, underneath his foundation and his mantra and the love advice and his wish list and his therapy list. I didn't want what happened to me, I didn't ask for it, I didn't deserve it, NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

When he reaches the end of the page, he stops, breathing hard. He feels like there's an endless litany of NOs inside him, like he did when he filled up a whole notebook with NOs, and it would be so easy for him to just keep going and going until he fills this one up, too.

He doesn't want to remember. He doesn't want to think about—

There's so much he doesn't want to think about. He just wants to make a new foundation for his new system and live and be happy and never remember anything ever again. All remembering ever does is hurt him. Maybe Divad had the right idea. Maybe if he just lost everything, if he was completely erased—

He'd be like Oliver in his ice cube, unable to remember anything but his own name and some poetry and his jazz records. And sometimes that complete disconnection terrifies David, but sometimes— Sometimes he thinks Oliver had the right idea. If he could just detach from everything, float away and never go back—

But he doesn't want to lose the good things. Oliver forgot his family, he forgot Melanie, he forgot all the amazing things he did with his life. There's not much in David's life worth remembering. He was tortured for thirty years, how could there ever be anything in his life worth remembering?

But if he forgot Amy— If he lost her like he lost their parents, if— If he had to piece back together a memory of her from scraps and photos and other people's words—

Losing Amy devastated him. Losing his memories of her—

Except he did. He lost twenty years of real memories of his life with her and Divad and Dvd and Mom and Dad. He lost twenty years of himself and thought a few scraps were enough to live on. That's what Farouk chose for him so that's what David got.

David wants it back. He wants back everything that was taken from him. He wants to remember so much it physically hurts him. But all his memories are is pain. He doesn't know what to do with that, he doesn't—

He wipes at his eyes and turns the page, starts again. I am David. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. David is love.

That last part never gets any easier to write. It still feels like a lie, a delusion, a cruel joke. David is an amnesiac torture victim whose brain is so fucked that the mental parasite living in his head had to intervene to save him from himself. But the mental parasite only did that so it could do the torturing itself. Because the parasite was jealous that its victim— Because Farouk was jealous. Of Dvd, of Divad? Both?

Both. He can't remember but he knows anyway. Farouk would be just as jealous of someone for hurting David as he is for them loving David. There's no difference between those two things for him.

God, that makes it all worse. Torture as— Not punishment but some kind of twisted, obsessive love? Or maybe love is just a kind of torture for him. Farouk told him that love was just— A chemical. Electrons in the brain sending signals. Love was a fungus infecting an ant so it could send its spores all over the jungle so it could infect more ants.

He tries not to think about Lenny when he remembers that. He tries to imagine Farouk in the opposite chair, sunglasses and all. But then he remembers not the words but the actions, and it's Farouk grabbing him, hurting him, sitting on his lap and pawing all over him while David sat confused and paralyzed and helpless—

He can't. As bad as it was to have Lenny doing that to him, hurting him and menacing him, as much as it makes it hard for him to look at Lenny and just see her because it wasn't her and it's not fair to her— The truth is worse, it's so much worse. It makes his stomach turn again, but there's already nothing left in him but bile and a few careful sips of water.

He writes out his mantras. I have the right to say no, he writes strongly, but that doesn't feel true either. If he had the right to say no, he would say no to all of this, to everything, to remembering and forgetting, to being broken and healing. He would say no to his entire existence if he could. It's no wonder he gave up when he was a teenager. He must have felt just like he did when he gave up and walked into Clockworks. Inside was where he belonged, and whatever happened to him— It didn't matter, because they were keeping him alive.

Everyone cares so much about keeping him alive.

But he doesn't want to just be alive. What's the point of that? Divad might as well wipe his memory completely if being alive is the only thing that matters. Farouk wants him alive, too, they could just hand David over and be done with all of this if alive is the only thing that matters. They could weld the crown to his head and stuff him full of drugs again and leave him to drool in a corner for the rest of his life.

He doesn't care if he's alive, if he exists. It's the last thing he wants if that's all he can have. He wants to not be sick. He wants to be happy and feel love without— Shame and guilt and confusion. He wants to be whole.

He writes out the love advice, then starts on the wish list, the one Lenny helped him make. It's hard to allow himself to want things, he couldn't have made the list without her helping him. Some of it is just— Frivolous. A chocolate bar, new clothes, a tropical vacation. He wants them, but— The other things—

Stay with his friends. Give back to the world. Be happy. Have good memories.

'Be whole,' he adds, even though he still doesn't know what that truly means or if it's even possible. He'll never be whole in the sense of— Undamaged. He's two trays full of broken ceramic pieces, no amount of glue and paint will undo the fact that he smashed his lamp against the wall. No amount of therapy will undo what happened to him. He has to accept what he is, he has to accept what's happening to him now.

But he wants wholeness anyway. He needs it even more than he needs to remember and forget.

'Remember,' he adds to the list. He doesn't specify what. Remembering only hurts him, but he still wants to remember. Not knowing his own past, barely knowing his own family, barely knowing himself— Remembering is torture, but not knowing is worse. If he could just remember, even if nothing he remembers is good, at least it would be real. It would be his.

Maybe he should put these into his therapy list. He hasn't written that one many times, he only got it from Syd this morning. But it’s more about— Practical steps. There's nothing practical about a wish list. Wish lists are for dreams. It's been a lot of work to even allow himself to dream, and it's still—

Frivolous. Unrealistic. It's stupid, wanting things, he's stupid for wanting things, he's so stupid, thinking his life will ever be anything other than what it's always been. What's the point of all of this, it's just rearranging deck chairs, it's just something to pass the time like a crossword puzzle in the back of a magazine, it's—

A shame attack. He's having a shame attack. He rubs his face, takes a sip of his water, breathes. When he has a shame attack he's supposed to love himself, but—

He's sick. Sickening, that's what that really means. He makes other people sick, he makes himself sick, the things that happened to him were all his fault, he deserved all of it. He's wasting everyone's time, he's ruining their lives, if they didn't have to save him they would be happy—

No. No. He's helped people, he stopped the war, he saved people's lives. He's helping Kerry, she keeps telling him he's helping her. He never deserved what happened to him, he was just a baby, it wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault.

He puts his hand over his heart. Maybe he still can't love himself, but Kerry loves him. Amy loves him. Syd loves him. There has to be— Something in him worth loving, for them to love him after— After everything. After the things he did, after all his failures, after—

He has to save David. If he wants to be a hero he has to save David. He has to love David. Somehow. Even though there's barely anything left of David to save and nothing worth loving.

Dvd's probably mad at him for thinking that. Everyone's probably mad at him for thinking that. If he was doing anything other than his foundation work, he'd already have an earful. But foundation work is the only time he's allowed now to just be alone with his thoughts. Even though everyone's still listening, they have to let him sit and think and process how he feels.

He feels ashamed. He always feels ashamed, he's the shame onion. He doesn't know why anyone has ever loved him. Maybe he used to know. Farouk took away so much, or— Stunted it. Poisoned the soil, the air. Instead of bright cherry tomatoes, it's a garden full of— Shrivelled plants, barely alive and choked with weeds.

He wishes he could remember Mom. Really remember her, not just— A glued-together memory. It felt real but it still wasn't real. Even if Ptonomy's right and all memories are creations, constructions— She must have mattered so much to him. If her death broke him, he must have loved her so much.

Like Amy's death. It must have felt like losing Amy, it must have gutted him and spilled him open. Farouk made a cocktail out of Mom and Amy, he was there when Mom died, so he knew exactly what Amy's death would do to David. Losing Mom broke him and sent him into a spiral, so of course losing Amy did the same thing. Inevitable, like gravity. Simple action and reaction producing madness on demand. Farouk knows every single one of his buttons and what pushing them will do.

Farouk was there for everything. And everything is so much.

Nausea distracts him from his shame. He takes another sip of water, breathes slowly. He looks at his notebook, finds where he left off.

He can't add anything else to his wish list, not when he can't even imagine deserving a chocolate bar. So he writes out the therapy list. Accept help from the people who love him. He's doing that. Stop punishing himself? Ridiculous, that's never going to happen. Learn to recognize what he's feeling and to manage his reactions. He's doing better with the first part, at least.

Believe he's worth saving. He's an absolute failure at that one, which is fitting. The entire idea of him being a hero is just— Delusional.

Build his new self? Out of what? He can't even build a new system. There's three of him and they're all too broken to fit together. It's just another hobby, like trying to get better. Like writing his name, like writing NO over and over, like writing his foundation work and adding to his wish list, all of it is just— Pointless.

He wonders if Farouk still wants to use him to end the world. Does Farouk really hate the world that much? Why? What's the point? What's the point in anything, in getting up every day and doing all this work? How could his life possibly be worth anything to anyone?

Accept his wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them. Learn acceptance and compassion for himself and others. Learn to trust his own mind. Be more than his shame.

Those shouldn't be on his therapy list, they should be on his wish list. All of this should be there, it's all just— Dreams. Wanting things— It's just showing Farouk exactly what buttons to press, exactly where to put the knife before he jabs it in and twists and guts David all over again.

Farouk was there for everything. Every single moment of David's life, waking or sleeping. Every thought, every feeling— And he didn't just watch, he used that knowledge, he spent decades finding new ways to make David suffer, trying every variation, every combination. And then he made David forget all of it so Farouk could play his favorites all over again. Simple action and reaction, horrific suffering with barely any effort at all, because he always knows exactly what he'll get.

NO, he writes again, now that he's gone through everything else. I didn't want what happened to me, I didn't ask for it, I didn't deserve it, NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. He fills the page and then he keeps going. It feels good to write it, it feels really good.

Maybe there's something under all the layers of shame. Maybe it's just NO. Maybe at the heart of him is just NO, carved in stone. Maybe NO is his foundation. Maybe it should be, because he doesn't want whatever's coming for him, he doesn't want it and it's not his and no matter how much Farouk fucks him up, he doesn't deserve any of it. He doesn't.

Fuck the shit beetle. Fuck everything Farouk has ever done to him and his system. God, he's just— He's just so angry. Is this what Dvd feels like all the time? It feels really good. Maybe he doesn't care if he has the right to say no or not, maybe he can just say it and it doesn't matter what anyone thinks because it's his.

He takes a deep breath, lets it out. He's okay. He should write pages full of NO more often. He should make that part of his foundation work. He will.

He looks up, finally. Everyone's studiously ignoring him, trying to give him space even though it's just the illusion of space. Except Syd. Syd can't hear anything he's thinking. Weirdly, that makes him feel like— He wants to tell her. Like— How Kerry not knowing made it easier to talk to her about— Dvd and Benny and— Suddenly not being straight.

He needs to talk to Syd about that, too, obviously they should talk about that even though they're not together. It was nice, sharing therapy with Syd all morning, and then he got another shock and that knocked them away from each other. But Syd came back, she's been here, working on her own foundation, her own therapy, waiting for David to be ready to— Reach out to her again.

Syd has her notebook out, too. She's writing in it— No, drawing. He stretches to see what it is, and Syd looks up.

"Hey," she says, with small smile. "Done with your foundation work?"

"I think so," David says. He rubs at his face, feeling a little dazed. He looks around again, notices that Kerry is reading one of the autobiographies Ptonomy gave them, that Oliver and Ptonomy are sitting quietly with Divad and Dvd, like they're— Oh, they're having a private session together. That must be why Ptonomy told them to stop sharing their thoughts with him. And probably because David needed some time to himself, god he needed it. And Amy and Lenny are sitting together in the other loveseat, Lenny snuggled up with Amy again for their touch therapy.

So it's just him and Syd together at the table. He doesn't know if that was intentional or not. Everyone else seems to know what he needs before he does, so it probably is. Everything is part of his therapy, not just sessions but meals and sleep and everything in between.

He's getting distracted again. He needs to pick what he wants to focus on and focus on it, and right now he wants to focus on Syd.

"What are you drawing?" he asks, still curious.

"Ah, you again, sort of," Syd admits. She slides over her notebook. "It's Divad."

David takes the notebook, looks at the drawing. He looks at Divad, sitting quietly on the sofa as he has a telepathic session. It's strange, having this— Evidence of his existence, that he's a solid, real person to someone other than David. Even though Syd can't see Divad right now, when he's projected from their body. The body David’s in. "It's a good likeness."

"I've got a lot of practice drawing your system," Syd says, fondly. "But I wanted to— Capture the differences. You're very different."

"Are we?" David asks. He's been focused on their similarities, the ways they connect. The parts that match. He looks at the drawing again. Syd's sketches of him are always— Alive, somehow. Like she's trying to draw not just what he looks like, but who he is.

Syd came back and sat with Divad and Amy while David was up in the loft. And then she was with him for their meal and then she watched the session, until— So she had a lot of time to watch him, study him. And she had yesterday, too, until David had another shock and— No, focus.

"What do you, um, think of him?" David asks.

"Well," Syd starts, then thinks. "He's very— Most of the time he's very calm. In control. From what I've seen, control is very important to him. And he's watchful. Cautious. Distant."

David looks at Divad's posture, his expression, looks at him in the drawing. He sees what Syd said, the way Divad holds himself, the way his brow is slightly furrowed, the set of his jaw. But his eyes—

"And vulnerable?" he asks.

"He doesn't want to show it, but it's there," Syd says. "It's funny, but— I think I see a lot of myself in him."

"Really?" David asks, surprised. It was Dvd who reminded him of Syd, but—

Syd nods. "I've always— Held myself apart. Because I had to, physically. And to protect myself." She pauses. "I used to draw the people who came to my Mom's salons. It let me get close enough to— Study them. Understand them, without— Letting them too close. It made things easier. They loved it, they were all so vain. No one tries to— Touch you when you're drawing, or talk to you. They give you space to work."

David remembers teenaged Syd screaming when someone touched her shoulder. The commotion, the attention— She must have hated those parties, all those people close together, every casual brush of someone's arm putting needles under her skin.

"It was how you survived," David realizes.

"It helped in Clockworks, too," Syd says. "When people know you're drawing them, they slow down. They pose. It's like— Taking a very slow photograph. No one wants to look bad."

A thought occurs to David. "Is that why you drew me? To, um, slow me down?" He never tried to touch Syd after that first accidental bump, he always did his best to respect the space she needed. He never wanted to hurt her or upset her.

"Maybe at first," Syd admits. "But mostly— It was to understand you. You weren't like anyone I'd ever met."

"You didn't know the half of it," David jokes.

"We really didn't," Syd agrees, earnestly. "But, um. Even just— No powers, no system. Just as a person— I drew you to understand— Why I fell in love with you."

David stares at her. He thinks about his foundation work and how impossible it feels for him to love himself. How he's thought that— If he didn't have any powers, he wouldn't be worth anything to anyone. If he didn't have any powers—

"Did you figure it out?" he asks, feeling— Suspended.

Syd holds him with her eyes. "I think so. I saw that you were— Fragile. I saw your pain. But you didn't let it eat you whole. It wasn't sensible, all that love and hope— But I liked it. I needed it."

David pulls in on himself, feeling— A tumult of things. "That wasn't me, it was just— What he made."

"No," Syd says, like she knows. "Farouk wouldn't know real love if it clubbed him across the face. Whatever he did to you, he didn't put those things in you. They're what he couldn't take away."

David stares at her again. "You can't know that."

Syd shrugs. "Why is anyone the way they are? I've been so many people. And even if my powers protected me— I know we're more than our bodies. That love and hope I've always seen in you, that comes from your soul. That's why I fell in love with you, and— That's why you're you. Why you've always been you and you always will be."

"You can't just say that," David insists.

"I just did," Syd says, amused.

David leans back, at a loss. "I hurt you," he says, desperate to refute her.

"You did," Syd says, sobering. "Even love and hope can make us do— Terrible things. I know you haven't had a chance yet to work through what I did to you, but— I hope that— When you're ready—" She looks painfully vulnerable, more than David's ever seen her. "Maybe you'll be able to see— What's in my soul."

She looks away, overcome. It must have taken so much for her to say all that.

"Syd," David starts, overcome himself. What should he say? He doesn't know what to say. But she looks like she wants to run off again and he doesn't want her to leave. He looks down at her notebook. The sketch. "Um, when you're done drawing Divad— Could I have it?"

Syd eases, quietly pleased. "Of course. I was thinking— I'd draw one of Dvd too, when it's his turn?"

Even though it hurts to think of Dvd now, David wants that. He wants to see Dvd through her eyes. "I'd like that," he says, giving her a smile. "And maybe— You could do one of me. Awake this time." He'd forgot about the sketch she did of him sleeping. Thinking back, that helped him accept that Divad and Dvd are parts of him, that they're a system. As difficult as things are, he's grateful to her for that. He's grateful to her for a lot of things.

"I'm not, um, much of an artist," David says. Farouk made him think he was in the fake Clockworks, made him a painter as well as manic depressive. But none of those things were real. "And I'm not exactly great at— Understanding anything, but— Everything about you— Has always been, um— Beautiful. To me."

He's the one who looks away then, overcome again. When he glances back, Syd has tears in her eyes. She wipes them away, but they were there. Nothing can undo the fact that— He made her feel so loved it brought tears to her eyes.

He puts his hand over his heart and wonders.

Chapter 99: Day 11: I am Dvd. I survived. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

The only thing worse than hearing David think awful things about himself is hearing him think awful things about Dvd. It's David thinking that Dvd would— That he'd ever do anything to hurt David. Dvd would never do anything to hurt David, ever.

It looks bad. Dvd knows it looks bad, of course it does. The shit beetle is an expert at making everything look bad, twisting everything out of shape, ruining everything. Dvd just did what he had to do so they could survive, so David could survive and recover and make it through another long day. Maybe Dvd should go over and tell David that, he needs David to understand that it wasn't—

He was just a stress response. He existed to protect David, that was all. He wasn't a person, he wasn't his brother, he wasn't— He isn't some monster invading their body, abusing it, he's not the shit beetle, he's Dvd. They're a system, there's no— There's no boundaries in their system so it's impossible to break them. It's just impossible.

David's the one who's confused, who's got it all wrong. The shit beetle tricked him into thinking he's a separate person and now he's full of all these separate people ideas. He forgot how they work and if he could just remember, everything would be fine, there wouldn't be all this confusion and David wouldn't think—

Dvd rubs at his eyes, angry at everything and everyone but especially at the shit beetle, he's furious, if it wasn't for that stupid crown he'd teleport them right to that asshole and turn him into a pile of dust like they should have the second they got to that club. They shouldn't have hung back for weeks, letting David be in charge. Dvd was the one who insisted they let David stay in charge but they should have known David was too full of delusions to handle anything.

Dvd glances at Divad, glad he has his mental shield back up so Divad can't hear his thoughts either. Divad would be so fucking smug if he'd heard that thought. He'd rub Dvd's nose in it forever.

But shit, his shield can't block the relay. Fuck the crown, fuck it.

"Dvd, please sit back down," Ptonomy says, gesturing to the sofa.

"Fine," Dvd mutters. He sits back down with a huff and crosses his arms. Stupid therapy, all it's doing is making David worse, making him upset and angry and—

"David will be fine," Ptonomy says, calmly. "But he needs time to process his feelings. We need to give him that. So we're going to continue, but we're going to do it through the relay." 'Okay?'

'Fine by me,' Divad thinks again. 'We should have all our sessions through the relay.'

'That wouldn't be fair to David,' Ptonomy says. 'Or to Dvd. Your system needs honesty to heal.'

Ptonomy calls this healing? Dvd glares at him. Maybe Ptonomy's just like everyone else after all.

'I know you're upset, Dvd,' Ptonomy says. 'I know this is painful for you. But David needs the truth, all of it, before your relationship goes any further.'

Their relationship isn't going anywhere, Dvd thinks, not anymore. David will never love him now. It hurts so much, even though Dvd's trying to be too angry to hurt. David is the only thing that's ever mattered, this is a disaster.

'It would have been a much worse disaster if David had found out about this later,' Ptonomy tells him. 'Or if Farouk had been the one to tell him.'

Dvd freezes, the thought like ice in his veins. Maybe Ptonomy has a point. Fuck the shit beetle, that would have been— Bad. Worse than bad.

'That's why we're doing this now,' Ptonomy tells him. 'Your system needs to work through what's happened to it so Farouk can't use it against you. All three of you have our support so none of you are dealing with this alone. So let's pick up where we left off. Dvd, let's go back. What happened first? Your mom's death or puberty?'

Way to ask the small questions, Dvd thinks. This is system stuff, as private as private can get.

'Except it was never private,' Ptonomy points out. 'Farouk invaded your system's body when you were a baby, and David was aware of the monster's presence even before he became a system. Your system has never been alone. That must have had a tremendous effect on you.'

Of course it did, Dvd thinks, dismissive. So what?

'We all adapt in response to our environment,' Ptonomy says. 'That's true of every living thing. We adapt in order to survive, but what helps us survive can also be harmful to us. Your system was never alone. Your body was constantly being violated and terrorized, your fears and hopes used against you. And even though you two were able to shield your thoughts, David couldn't, which meant you had no choice but to hear his thoughts. Without the context of external telepathy, his thoughts must have felt like your own.'

Dvd looks at Divad.

'They do,' Divad admits. 'But we knew they were his thoughts.'

'If you came into existence in an environment where you always heard someone else's thoughts as your own, it would be natural to see yourself as part of them,' Ptonomy tells them. 'Both of you always had David's thoughts as part of you. That reinforced your understanding of yourselves.'

But they are parts of David, Dvd thinks, insistent. They're a system, they're Davids, of course they're parts of David.

'He's right,' Divad thinks.

'Up to a point,' Ptonomy says. 'One of the reasons I want you to read about other systems is so you can see how unique your system is. In most systems, each member sees themself as an individual. They often aren't even aware of other members of their system. It's still common for there to be a main member, someone who does most of the work of fronting or being in charge, but the other members don't usually see themselves as a mere extension of the main member.'

So what, Dvd asks. They're freaks among the freaks? They're used to that.

'This isn't about judgement,' Ptonomy reminds them. 'My point is that this behavior is part of a larger pattern. It's vital that we understand that pattern and all the ways it affects your system. We need to understand what Farouk already knows. We're playing catch-up. We can't afford denial, no matter how uncomfortable it is to discuss these things.'

He pauses to let that sink in.

'I understand,' Divad thinks. 'Puberty happened first, but— Mom was always sick. The last few years— She, um—' He takes a shaky breath. 'She died very slowly.'

'I'm sorry,' Ptonomy says, gently. 'I know you loved her very much.'

Divad nods and wipes at his eyes.

'So your mom's death was more like the presence of the monster,' Ptonomy says. 'Something you were unable to escape, something that was part of you as long as you could remember.'

Divad nods again. 'Mom loved us so much,' he thinks, grieving. 'Like she wanted to fill us up with so much love— We would never lose it. Even—' He stops again, wipes at his eyes.

'That's a pattern, too,' Ptonomy point out, still gentle. 'Intense love in the face of trauma. That's how your whole family loves each other, and how David loves other people. It's how you love David, Dvd.'

Dvd looks at Ptonomy, surprised. He thought— He thought Ptonomy—

'You thought I was trying to take David away from you?' Ptonomy asks. 'Nothing will ever take David away from your system again. But your relationship needs to be healthy for both of you. So let's continue. Your system grew up with no sense of privacy. That, along with always hearing David's thoughts, meant your system never developed a true sense of individuality or boundaries. As you said, puberty happened to you as a system.'

It did. They weren't separate people, and they shared all the time, so— They experienced everything together.

'Sharing all the time helped David feel safe,' Ptonomy says. 'It also made you feel even more like you were parts of David, since your system prioritized David's choices and needs. The outside world was a source of trauma, just like David's telepathy. So that's why even when the two of you were in charge, you insisted you were only covering for David. That allowed you to dissociate from what was happening to you.'

'I guess we do that a lot,' Divad admits.

'Dissociation is your system's primary survival mechanism,' Ptonomy replies. 'Both in the fundamental structure of your system and in how you individually cope. But I think all that sharing had an effect on you, Divad. If I understand correctly, you would receive David and Dvd's neural signals and unify them with your own. That means that even though the three of you gave preference to David's neural signals, Divad was actually the one who was in charge of your body most of the time. But Divad, you were in charge without autonomy, without control.'

'Yeah,' Divad says. 'It was David's life, but— He lived it through me.'

'And that was okay if you were just a stress response,' Ptonomy offers. 'But you were never just a stress response. And being forced to sacrifice your sense of self to that degree must have been very hard for you. Is that what made you angry at David?'

'I don't know,' Divad admits. 'Maybe, I— I never thought about— It was just how we worked.'

'Farouk would put David into a position where he had to make a choice, and his choice was always going to be wrong,' Ptonomy says. 'But even if David made the decision, you were the one who had to actually carry it out. Even if you were dissociating from how you felt, I think on some level you were angry at David for making you share the burden of his torture. Not being David was supposed to protect you from the monster, but sharing destroyed that protection. Yet you still felt you had no right to abandon David or make decisions on your own behalf. It's very understandable that you would resent David for all of that, and that your attempts to help him would become abusive.'

Dvd stares at Divad. Was all that true?

Divad wipes at his eyes again. 'It's true,' he thinks, shocked. 'God, it's— It was such a relief when we stopped sharing. I just thought— It was because David wouldn't be able to ruin things anymore, but— Being in charge, just me being in charge— I told myself I was still just covering for David but— I wasn't. And it felt so good.'

'You were reclaiming your sense of yourself as an individual person,' Ptonomy tells Divad. 'Making choices for yourself and carrying them out on your own. That must have felt incredibly freeing.'

'It did,' Divad admits. 'And the monster left us alone— And I had Amy and classes and— I had a life. It was mine.'

One Divad stole, Dvd grumbles.

'David stole mine first,' Divad shoots back.

'David didn't steal your life,' Ptonomy corrects. 'Farouk did. He made the choice to invade David and torture him until he became the three of you, and continued to assault your system so that you needed such desperate measures. Remember, all of this happened when you were children. You did the best you could to survive a terrible situation, but David's right. The choices you made were the choices of traumatized children, traumatized teenagers who were being continually manipulated and tortured. It's important to recognize that healthy decisions were practically impossible for any of you in that situation. It wasn't your fault, but if you want things to be better, you have to change.'

Maybe Divad and David have to change, but Dvd doesn't.

Divad snorts. 'You are completely delusional.'

Dvd is the only one who held himself together when everyone else was falling apart. When David was a broken wreck and Divad was being selfish, Dvd held everything together. He's the only one who never forgot how they worked.

'Ptonomy just told us the way we worked was stupid,' Divad thinks, smugly. 'That means you're the stupid one for holding on to it.'

'Divad,' Ptonomy warns. 'That is not what I said. And you and Dvd have just as much work to do with each other as you do with David. If you can't make peace with each other, your system will never heal. Every time you fight, you know what that does to David.'

It makes David upset. It makes him despair.

'It made him so upset he destroyed our bedroom,' Divad adds, unhappily.

'I know you've both suffered greatly,' Ptonomy says. 'But a divided system is what Farouk wants. I'm sure he's done many things to set you against each other. But that's what Farouk does to people who threaten him. If you heal your relationship, Farouk can't get between you anymore. Isn't that worth the work?'

It is, but— Dvd can't trust Divad. All of this is proof that Divad can't be trusted because he'll always choose himself over their system.

'It's not selfish to have boundaries,' Ptonomy tells him. 'Your system needs healthy multiplicity, it needs to be respectful of the needs of all its members. That includes you, Dvd. You're just as much an individual as Divad and David. You're more than just a stress response, more than just what David needs.'

No, Dvd thinks, firmly. All this separateness, that's the delusion. David thinking he's a separate person is what's ruining everything.

Ptonomy pauses, considering. 'Then you think David was happy with the way things were before?'

Dvd hesitates. It's not like any of them were ever happy. But— They had each other, they loved each other and protected each other and did everything together. And if David had bad thoughts, Dvd helped them go away. He wasn't like Divad, always criticizing and making David upset. Dvd made David better and he didn't need any stupid healing powers to do it.

'Tell me about that,' Ptonomy says. 'How did you make David's 'bad thoughts' go away? What kind of bad thoughts did he have?'

The kind David always has, Dvd thinks, unhappily. David was already broken when he made them, when— When the three of them were made from him, whatever. David was already—

'He already hated himself,' Ptonomy says, gently. 'He was already ashamed. Was he already suicidal?'

Dvd looks over at David, sitting at the table with his notebook. He's upset, and when he's upset— It's Dvd's job to help him feel better. But Dvd can't comfort him now, not when he's the reason David's upset. Everything's so wrong.

'It's a very painful thing, to think about a child so young already wanting to die,' Ptonomy says. 'But it happens. David was very lucky to have you to help him fight those feelings. But that was a terrible burden for another child to have to bear. You, Dvd, didn't want to die. But you had David's thoughts in your head. The only way to make the thoughts stop was to make David feel better. It was to keep him away from all the things that made those thoughts happen. So inside your body, you protected him from the monster and from Divad as best you could.'

Dvd did, of course he did. He would have done even more if he could, but he couldn't make Divad stop, he couldn't get rid of the monster. He wasn't strong enough.

'But the inside of your body wasn't the only source of trauma,' Ptonomy continues. 'We already know David's telepathy was traumatic for your system. But so was the physical world. Your misdiagnosis, your mom's illness— David being in the world made him worse. So consciously or not, you did whatever it took to keep David away from the world. You encouraged David to isolate your system, to stay away from other people. But to keep that isolation from making him worse, you had to be everything he needed. And when puberty happened, when David's sexual needs became a reality, I think you did what you always have.'

All Dvd ever did was make David feel better. That was all! And he always knew exactly what made David feel better because he could hear it.

'I'm sure you could,' Ptonomy agrees. 'But nowhere in that do I see you asking David what he wanted. Nowhere in that do I see you asking yourself what you wanted. You did what you felt was necessary. How did David feel about all of this?'

Dvd refuses to answer that. It's a stupid question, it doesn't deserve an answer.

'He accepted it,' Divad admits. 'He accepted everything we did to him, because— He knew our situation was his fault, he was so ashamed, and— We knew what was best for him.'

'That was your workaround,' Ptonomy says. 'It had to be David's life so all the bad things would only happen to him. But it was your life, too, both of you. And the only way to regain control over your life was to control David, to make him give you what you needed. And the end result of that was sexual and emotional abuse and imprisonment.'

Fuck you, Dvd thinks, furious. They're not the shit beetle!

'But he taught us,' Divad thinks, miserably. 'He tortured us until we were like him. He used our love for David against us, he made us do things—'

'That's what he does,' Ptonomy agrees, soberly. 'David will understand that. You've all been victims for a very long time. But we can help you become survivors so one day you can all thrive together.'

'How?' Divad asks. 'I don't— I don't want to be this way anymore.'

'You need what your system never had the chance to have,' Ptonomy says. 'You need boundaries. Not just David, but all of you. You need to rebuild yourselves just like David is doing, and develop healthy ways of relating to yourselves and each other and the world.'

'I want that,' Divad thinks.

Dvd thinks this is all bullshit.

'Denial won't protect you from the truth,' Ptonomy warns him. 'We're having this discussion privately so you two have the chance to tell David yourselves. He deserves your honesty and you deserve the chance to be honest with him and yourselves. But this situation is the same as with the relay. If you refuse to tell David, if you refuse to open up to him with honesty and respect, it will be done on your behalf. If we don't, Farouk will do it for us, and he'll make sure to put all of this in the worst possible light. None of us wants that to happen.'

'We'll tell him,' Divad promises, looking over at David. 'Should we do it now?'

'Not yet,' Ptonomy says. 'David needs time to process what he's already learned. You know how David works. He might be ready later today, but it could take longer. David's pushing himself very hard already, if we put all this on him now, it'll be too much. We don't want a repeat of yesterday.'

'We really don't,' Divad agrees.

Yesterday was awful, Dvd thinks. David almost going away and then passing out, Dvd was so scared for him—

'Both of you love David very much,' Ptonomy says. 'I don't think either of you ever wanted to hurt him, but you were both unable to acknowledge your own suffering. You dissociated from it and denied it, but all that did was put the suffering in control. It put your anger and frustration in control. It put Farouk in control. If you want to take control back from Farouk, the way to that is through trust, honesty, and respect, for yourselves and each other.'

'Like David,' Divad thinks.

'Exactly,' Ptonomy says, pleased. 'I know David offered to share his notebook with you, Divad. But each of you needs your own notebook, in addition to your system notebook. Just like David has. We're going to get started on them now. Please each make your own personal mental notebook, and I've set aside two notebooks for you to use while you're embodied.'

Divad makes his immediately, the teacher's pet that he is. Dvd doesn't.

'Dvd?' Ptonomy prompts.

Dvd doesn't need a stupid notebook. He doesn't need to rebuild himself, he doesn't need boundaries. He needs David back. He needs David to love him. They can't— Being together is all they have. David is all he has. He survived ten years of being trapped in their body so they could be together again. They were going to go to some stupid farm but Dvd didn't care as long they were alone together, where no one would hate them or judge them or hurt them or make them take medication— They were just going to be happy together. That's all Dvd ever wanted, he just wanted them to be happy together and for all the bad things to be far away.

But David loved Syd too much to leave. He loves Syd so much. It kills Dvd every time he hears David loving Syd, it makes him want to cut out their heart and turn it to dust so he doesn't have to feel it anymore.

He wanted David to love him that way, he wanted it so much. But the shit beetle ruined everything. David only loved him at all because he thought Dvd kept him safe, but— He failed. He's such a failure, how's he worth anything to David if he's a monster, if he did monstrous things to him— David will hate him forever, he'll never forgive him, he shouldn't—

'Dvd,' Divad thinks, reaching out to him.

Dvd bets Divad is loving this, he must be having a great time watching Dvd realize what a hideous monster he is. It must be everything he ever wanted, finally having the tables turned. Now he can punish Dvd the way he's always wanted to, just like he punishes David. Maybe that's how they were supposed to work. Maybe if Divad punishes Dvd he'll finally leave David alone. And then David will be happy with Syd and— Kerry and— He'll have the world that they took away from him and— They'll just— They can go to the bedroom and— Divad can punish Dvd all he wants and Dvd won't fight back anymore. He doesn't deserve to fight back, Divad was right all along, he's the selfish one, he's been so awful—

'Dvd, please,' Divad thinks. He puts a hand on Dvd's arm. 'I don't want that and you don't deserve it. Our system has suffered enough.'

It's not enough, Dvd thinks. What he did to David— No punishment could ever be enough. Dvd's the one who should get his memory wiped. If Dvd can't remember— Then David won't have to remember.

'That's not how this works,' Ptonomy says. 'David needs to remember because that's what's right for him. And you need to do what's right for yourself. That's what personal boundaries are about. Yes, as a system you'll have to learn to balance those needs, but you can't be healthy as a system until you've made progress being healthy as individuals. That's true of all relationships. The good part about that is that if we help each other get better as individuals, that will go a long way to healing our relationships and making them strong.'

Dvd rubs his eyes. That makes sense, but— When David finds out—

'He'll be upset,' Ptonomy allows. 'Just like Syd was upset after she got her memories back. But she worked through her feelings and accepted that she also needs help, and now her relationship with David is starting to heal.'

But David doesn't love Dvd the way he loves Syd, Dvd thinks. He can't remember anything and what he does have— David won't want him. He can't.

'I think you've forgotten something,' Ptonomy says. 'David's feelings for you. They're new, yes, but— I think the reason they feel familiar to David is because he had feelings for you before. He loved you, he saw you as more than just a stress response. He wanted to protect you. I think the reason he accepted what you gave him was because he wanted you, but he didn't feel like he deserved anything more.'

Ptonomy can't know that, Dvd protests.

'It's an educated guess,' Ptonomy admits. 'But maybe Divad knows. Why don't you ask him?'

Dvd looks to Divad, uncertain.

'Why do you think I was always so jealous?' Divad asks, a little sadly. 'Of course he loved you. I was the one who pushed him away, who was cruel to him— Maybe you gave him what he needed and not what he wanted, but— God, we were traumatized kids, we can't— Torture ourselves when being tortured is what got us here in the first place. We have to forgive our system, all of it, for everything. We have to do what Ptonomy's saying and rebuild ourselves so our new system isn't full of the shit beetle's poison the way our old one was.'

Dvd doubts that's even possible.

'We have to try,' Divad insists. 'None of us can leave. We're not separate people, we're a system. We're all Davids. However we hurt each other, it's all the same. We share everything, we have to share forgiveness and love.'

Those were David's words. Divad shouldn't think any of that unless he really means it.

'I'm trying to mean it,' Divad thinks. 'I want the pain to stop, just like you do. That's all any of us has ever wanted, for the pain to stop. You told me that the only way we would stop hurting each other was if we got help. You were right, and— Even if half the time we take one step forward and five back— Somehow we're still moving in the right direction. Mostly because of David. We've been making him do all the work and that's not fair, like it wasn't fair to make him take all the torture. If we want a healthy system, we have to share. And sharing's what we do, right?'

Dvd thinks Divad's playing dirty, using Dvd's own words against him. Low down and mean dirty.

'So that's a yes?' Divad prompts.

Ugh, it's a yes, Dvd grumbles. They'll do the stupid personal notebooks, fine. But it better work. If they do all this work and David hates him— Dvd will personally end the world himself.

'Uh huh,' Divad thinks, not impressed.

Dvd glares at him and makes a new notebook. He opens to the first page and looks to Ptonomy. So tell them what to do already.

'We'll keep it simple to start,' Ptonomy says. 'I'd like both of you to copy David's foundation work and his mantras, replacing his name with your own. Then add the relationship advice that's already in your system foundation work. You can leave the wish list empty for now, but start thinking about what you want to fill it with. And for the therapy list, I'd like you each to do what David did and make that your own. You've been watching David through all of this, so you should have a good sense of how this works. Talk to each other if you need help, and if you're stuck on something you can ask for help. But you need to make all of this your own for it to have as much impact as it does for David. Change anything you need to change. Add a new section if you need one. Whatever you feel will help you be the person you want to be, put it in your foundation.'

'Okay,' Divad thinks, sounding determined. He starts writing.

Dvd stares at the blank page. Are they really going to do this? It looks like they are.

'Dvd's Foundation' he writes on the first line, and underlines it like David does. His handwriting still feels clumsy, and it's always been the worst of the three of them. He could pretend to write like David, but— That doesn't feel like something he should do for this.

His own foundation. For himself, for Dvd. Dvd— Haller? It's really weird to think of himself as Dvd Haller, but— if Divad and David get a last name, he should get one, too.

He crosses out the first line and starts again.

Dvd Haller's Foundation

He considers it, then underlines it. And then he writes:

I am Dvd. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. Dvd is love.

Chapter 100: Day 11: I am Divad. I survived. (Divad)

Chapter Text

I am Divad. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. Divad is love.

Divad has been listening to David telling himself his foundation and mantras over and over for days. He's watched David wrestle with the ideas in them, praise and curse them, deny them and embrace them. Every day his foundation work has expanded, in small changes and big leaps, David navigating the rough ocean of his therapy like a sailor desperate for the slightest catch of a helpful wind.

David's foundation work might be full of other people's ideas, but he's done the work from the start and he keeps pushing on no matter how many times he's been knocked down. No matter how many shocks he gets, no matter how painful the revelation, David refuses to give up. He picks himself back up and clings to what helps him and keeps going.

Ptonomy said their system needs to stop being victims and start being survivors, but Divad thinks Ptonomy was wrong about that. David is already a survivor.

And now, faced with the same challenge of recovery, trying to build a new foundation for himself, Divad feels ashamed. He always told himself that the terrible things that happened to them were David's fault, that if David had just made better decisions, if he'd just—

But David has always made the best decisions he could. He's always been fighting with everything he has to heal, to be a good person, to stay alive, to love— Farouk might have used the mental health system to torture David, but David still embraced the lessons in it, especially after Farouk made him forget everything. David learned anxiety management, he learned mantras, he learned to open up and share his feelings, he learned so many things, but none of those tools could compete with the monster in their head, sabotaging every action and thought, making every scrap of hope feel futile.

But now the monster is out, and David—

It's been hard to see it, in the moment, while Divad struggled with his own trauma, his own anger and shame and regret, but— David is so strong. He's come so far in so little time. They thought suffering was what David was for, but they were wrong. Healing is what David is for. It always has been. It was just— Hard to see that when the pain was so overwhelming, when it never stopped coming at them from every direction. They were drowning in that ocean, what did it matter how hard David kicked towards the surface when they were a thousand feet under?

A few days ago, Syd asked them how they kept David David. She wanted to know how he could endure everything he suffered and still be himself, but Divad didn't have an answer to that and neither did Dvd. They just knew that somehow, no matter what the monster did to them, David was still David. He's always been David.

And Divad? Who is he? If he's not just a stress response, if he's not just the alter who stole David's life, if he's not just— A way for David to survive—

He wasn't even that. He wasn't helping David survive, he was making him worse. He was weighing them down when David was trying to carry them up. Dvd knew it, he said it over and over, so many times that Divad stopped listening. Looking back— Did they ever let David make a real choice on his own? They said it was his life but they told him how to live it, they were in charge of him. They always knew what was best for him, they told him that over and over, so many times that David just accepted it. Because that's what David did. He believed he deserved his own suffering, so if there was anything he could do for them, any way he could help them, save them—

Anyone could build a better system than three traumatized children who were being tortured by a monster. When Divad heard David think that—

It was Dvd who gave the idea to David. Dvd, of all people! Anyone could do a better job fixing their lamp than an escaped mental patient weaning himself off an insane amount of Haldol. But David didn't just accept that idea, he made it his own, he saw that— Their system was the same as their lamp. David was shattered and then the three of them tried to tape themselves back together the best they could. But they didn't know what they were doing. They didn't have the help they needed, the tools they needed to actually figure out how to work together in a healthy way.

It was like Ptonomy said, healthy decisions were impossible for them while there was a monster in their head. If anything seemed to help, they did it and kept doing it even if it hurt them, because they didn't know the difference between helping and hurting. Farouk made sure of that. He made good things bad and bad things good, he tricked and confused them—

He was their world. They all accepted what he told them. They were in charge of David, but the monster was in charge of all of them. The monster stole their life.

Divad wants it back. He's so angry, not at David or himself but at Farouk, at the shit beetle who actually did ruin everything. Is this what Dvd feels like all the time? It feels really good.

There are things I lost that I’ll never get back. But I’m here and I’m not alone.

David mostly thinks about his memories when he thinks of that. Divad doesn't think he's forgotten very much, but he knows Dvd remembers things he doesn't. Not that they've ever wanted to talk about what they remember. Not that they've even wanted to talk to each other. All the two of them had was each other for ten long years, but they couldn't stand each other. They've always fought over David, over whose fault things were, over who should be in charge and who should help David and what helping even meant. For ten years they sniped at each other endlessly, because that was the only thing they had left after Farouk ripped everything away from them. Things were bad between them before, but once David was gone—

Once David was gone, there was no reason to play nice anymore. They ripped each other to shreds. The tussles they had that upset David so much? They were nothing compared to what happened during those ten years. They were both furious and heartbroken and helpless and the only thing they could actually do was hurt each other, so they did. And the worst part was that they knew how much the monster loved every minute of it, but they still couldn't stop themselves.

I’m loved and there’s no shame in love.

This one’s hard to write. Writing 'Divad is love'— That just feels— Abstract, like most of his new foundation. He feels no connection to that idea at all. But he let Amy in, and Amy helped him see that he needs to let David in, and—

Divad wants to be loved. He's been starving to be loved, but no one inside or outside his system could ever love him. Or that's what he thought. Amy says she loves him, she loves Divad, that all the years he was pretending to be David are theirs now, that the love that was meant for David is Divad's. But it's so new and strange and— Divad isn't sure he can believe it.

He wants it to be real. He wants David to love him, even though Divad hurt him so much. But Divad doesn't want David's forgiveness if it's just— Because David feels like he deserved to be hurt. That would poison everything, just like it did before. If there's no shame in love— Then a love based on shame isn't love at all.

I’m strong enough to heal.

Divad always thought he was. Even though Dvd's the most powerful of them, Divad always thought he was the one with the strongest mind, the clearest sense of right and wrong, that he was able to resist the monster's manipulations. But he was as wrong as it’s physically possible to be. So even though he's writing the words, they feel like more than a lie, they feel like a joke. He's just weak.

I'm not doing this alone.

This one, at least, is true in the most literal sense. Dvd is beside him, chewing the end of his pen as he mulls over the same words for himself. And Divad does have Amy. They have Ptonomy helping them, they have— All of David's friends. Even Lenny and Syd. Even if they're all only helping Divad because of David—

Divad wants their life back, so he'll take all the help he can get so they can stop the monster once and for all. He was so close to that in college, he could feel it, but— None of what he learned matters anymore because Farouk isn't physically inside of them. He's an outside problem, not an inside one. So all those years of studying, all that knowledge— It doesn't matter because Syd got Farouk out of them with a kiss. Divad isn't sure if he's more annoyed or grateful to her for that, but what matters is that Farouk is out. It matters so much.

I don’t have to hurt David and I never did.

Even though this idea was adapted into their system mantra, Divad puts it into his own. It's probably the idea that's helped him the most so far, and he's trying so hard to believe it. It's getting easier, the need to hurt David growing weaker the more he looks back at their life with a new perspective. Ptonomy was completely right: they did dissociate from their individuality, from their feelings and trauma. They put all the responsibility for their life on David, by only seeing themselves as stress responses, as parts of him there only to protect him. And then they controlled him to control themselves, and that— That was an astoundingly bad idea, an astronomically bad idea to base their whole system on. Shit. Anyone could have seen that if they'd just— Told someone what was happening to them. But they didn't. They couldn't.

I'm not going to be forgotten.

Those words brought tears to his eyes when Ptonomy told them to him, and Amy—

He can barely bring himself to face all the feelings behind this. Not just being trapped and unheard for ten years, but everything about— Pretending to be David. Negating his own sense of self to hide, to share, to protect David—

He wants to be known. He wants people to know him, to talk to him and hear him, to smile at his presence. He wants to be welcomed and accepted and useful and— He wants so much, there's so much in those six words that it threatens to overwhelm him just writing them.

He just wants to be himself, to be a person in the world, and for that to be— A good thing. He wants it so much.

He leaves some space for the relationship advice and skips ahead to his wish list. I want to be me, he writes, and then on the next line, I want to be useful and then I want to have friends and then I want to work with Cary and then I want to go back to college as myself and then I want a degree with Divad Haller on it and then—

He stops, shaking from— Relief. He feels like he could go on and on forever with all the things he wants, but it's already so much. And they're all things just for him, no one else. Not David things, not system things, but Divad things. Divad Haller things for Divad Haller.

It's not selfish to have boundaries. Ptonomy said that. It's not selfish to have his own needs, his own wants, his own dreams. It's healthy. They need healthy ideas and Ptonomy said this one is very healthy. Dvd can snarl all he wants, he's still wrong. It's not enough just to be a system, it's not enough do to everything for David, and it's not good for David or them or their system to do that!

If Divad didn't feel humbled by how much work he needs to do on himself, he'd be very smug about that at Dvd. But he doesn't have the energy to waste on being smug. David is so far ahead of them and they have to catch up.

He writes out the relationship advice, the love advice as David calls it. Divad's already thought about it in the context of their system, but now he's looking at it for himself. There's so many healthy ideas packed into just a few simple lines, about love and openness and self-defense and self-respect. And Ptonomy said it was the same love for all of them, for them as individuals and their system and the outside world and everyone in it. David's embraced the advice, turned to it many times already, and Divad needs to do the same. And he can see now that even though it's all about love and relationships, what it's about most of all is what their system desperately needs: healthy boundaries. Being able to say no, how to recognize when they need to say no, and the basics of what to do after that: talking, getting help, or rejection.

Not that any of them can truly reject each other. God knows they’ve all tried to escape in one way or another. But they're stuck with each other so they have to make it work. And of course David's been desperately trying to heal their system, but he can't do it all for them. He can't do anything about the absolute wreck that is Divad and Dvd's relationship.

God, did they ever have a relationship? Right from the start, everything was about David. David was the one being tortured, David was the one they had to help, David's thoughts were mixed in with theirs, making them feel like they weren't anything more than parts of him. But that's not fair. As terrible as the consequences have been, David gave them his mental shields to protect them. He couldn't have known that his tormented thoughts would be a worse torture than anything the monster ever did to them. He was just a little kid when his mind shattered into a system, he was just— He was just trying to save them.

David was always trying to save them. They were never just stress responses to him. It must have made him feel so alone, to be told— The people he shared his life with weren't real. They didn't claim to be hallucinations, of course not, they were real. But they didn't want to be people, they didn't want David's life to be theirs. Right from the start—

They abandoned David. They let the bad things happen only to him, and then Divad told David it was his fault they were happening. Divad and Dvd both told David to stay away from other people, so David would stop hurting their family and being hurt by their pain, so the monster wouldn't have anything to use against them. Even before they imprisoned him in their body, they were already closing in around him, cutting him off from the world, isolating him— The way they were isolated. They ripped him open so he would have the same wounds as them.

And David loved them anyway. No matter how much they hurt him— Because they hurt him? Like Syd? Or—

No. There's no way David ever loved the monster. Okay, he loved King, but— King was a dog. That's not the same as— It's just not the same.

But the re-enacting— Divad can't help but wonder— How did it start? None of them remembers the beginning, even before David forgot, they were so young— Farouk must have been lying about trying to make David love him, he doesn't even know what love is.

But the whole thing leaves Divad more than a little— Unsettled. It feels like— Standing at the edge of a cliff with his eyes closed. He doesn't want to open them and look down and see how far they'll fall with one step forward—

No. No, he can't— They shouldn't think about— He needs to finish his foundation work. He needs to do that. He did everything else, he needs to do his therapy list. But he looks over at Dvd again, and— Dvd is struggling badly.

Divad should probably be smug about that, too. But Ptonomy said— Therapy is a team event. They all need to get better together so they can win. And maybe his and Dvd's relationship is a disaster, but— If they're going to fix their system, they have to fix their relationship. And Ptonomy said— He said helping each other get better as individuals would help heal their relationships and make them strong.

Divad can't imagine what a healthy relationship with Dvd would even look like. But Dvd needs help. Divad did an awful job of helping David, but— He has a page full of new ideas to try to use and make his own. If Divad is love— If love is giving each other affection and support— Maybe he can try to give Dvd some affection and support?

He's probably going to be terrible at it, but David's been terrible at a lot of things, and he keeps trying and as long as he keeps trying— He gets better at them. So Divad has to try, too.

§

Dvd wasn't sure about all this personal foundation stuff when Ptonomy told them to make them. And he's not any more convinced now that he's written it all down. He copied all that foundation and mantra and relationship stuff and thought about it. He's thinking about it now. He's just not—

It's not like he doesn't understand the concept. He's watched David doing all of this so many times, he didn't even need to look up any of the words because he's heard them so much he's memorized them, too. He knows they've helped David a lot, obviously they have, but—

It's hard enough just accepting that he's not a stress response. And not just not a stress response, but an individual person, that's he more than just— What David needs. All he's ever been is what David needs. And maybe he fucked that up, okay he definitely fucked that up, but—

He glances over at Divad. He's taken to this foundation stuff like a duck to water, and of course he has. All he ever wanted to be was a separate person and now he's got Ptonomy's blessing to be that. And David already thinks he's a separate person. So it's just Dvd who's left. That's all their system is now, it's just Dvd. And that's— A system of one person is basically just a separate person. So even though that's the last thing he wants to be, he doesn't have a choice, because he's all that's left.

He's not going to cry again. After what he did to David for all those years— He doesn't deserve to cry. He should just— Wallow in his misery. Even if Divad won't punish him, he still deserves to be punished. Dvd's always hurt anyone who hurt David, he can't— Not hurt himself. But— He was always— The part of David that didn't hurt himself, the part that did whatever it took to keep David from wanting to hurt himself. He's spent his whole life intervening to keep David from thinking bad thoughts. He can't make himself think bad thoughts. What if Ptonomy makes them share their thoughts again? Dvd can't put bad thoughts into David's head, that's— He can't.

So he doesn't know what to do anymore, and even though he's trying to see himself in David's words— He just feels confused. He's supposed to be the part of David that doesn't need help. He's supposed to be a part of David, not— Dvd Haller.

He doesn't like this, trying to be Dvd Haller. He just doesn't. It feels completely wrong and unnatural, like— Like being projected all the time feels. Like not sharing all the time feels.

But they're never going to share again, not after what Divad said. Divad didn't just hate sharing, it was torture for him. It's what made him hurt David. So obviously they can't ever share again. Not that Divad will even want to, not when he's so happy being a separate person, and David won't want it when he's so happy being a separate person. So Dvd's just sharing with himself, which isn't sharing at all. He's a system of one person sharing with himself. What a joke.

He didn't put anything in his wish list. What could he possibly ask for? To be a system again? For David to love him? Those are the last things he'll ever get, no matter what Ptonomy said about David having feelings for him. Being a system and Dvd's love both hurt David terribly, so they can't ever happen again. Whatever bad things happen to David, Dvd has to make sure they never happen again. That's all he has left now. The only thing he can do for David is to stop himself from happening to David, because Dvd is a bad thing.

If only their bedroom wasn't destroyed— But David offered to make it again. If he did— Dvd never cared about the world anyway. The world is awful, fuck the world. There's nothing in it for him, nothing but people hating them and judging them and hurting them. When he covered for David, he wasn't faking like Divad was, he covered for David and he meant it. He didn't try to have his own life because it was never his life, so if he goes back to the bedroom and never comes out again—

But the shit beetle— And Divad— Dvd can't leave until he knows David will be safe. He can't remove himself from David's life until the shit beetle is removed from existence. He can't abandon David until Divad's thoughts are safe for him. Dvd can't hear Divad's thoughts right now, but when they drop their shields again Dvd will keep a very close eye on them. Maybe all this therapy stuff will help him as much as it's helping David, and then— They'll just be two healthy people who happen to share a body. And then Dvd can— He can go away. If there's no point to him—

Alters don't have to be permanent. There've been plenty of alters who were only temporary, who popped into existence to help David and then went away again. They were just fragments, without any real sense of self, without any of their own memories or even names. They did their job and then— When their job was done, they were done. So maybe— Maybe all of this just means Dvd is done. He was never a full person, he's just— A fragment with delusions.

A tissue box slides over his notebook. He looks up. Divad is holding it.

Dvd sniffs and takes a tissue and wipes his eyes, blows his nose. He doesn't care if Divad's going to be cruel about him crying. He deserves to be punished anyway. He takes another tissue.

'Thanks,' he sends to Divad with a mutter, when Divad doesn't say anything.

Divad puts the tissue box down on the coffee table. He doesn't go back to writing in his notebook. Dvd glances at it. Divad wrote more than him, of course. He even put a bunch of things in his wish list. But fragments don't have wish lists. They don't have foundations. Dvd should just rip out his page and crumple it up and throw it out, the whole idea of him having a personal notebook is a joke, too. His whole life is just one big joke.

‘Having trouble?’ Divad asks.

Dvd blows his nose again by way of an answer. 'None of your business.'

Divad looks vaguely exasperated, which is typical for him. But he tries again. ‘Maybe I can help. All of this foundation work is, uh, a lot harder than it looks.’

'It's David's thing,' Dvd thinks, dismissive.

'He wants to share it with us,' Divad thinks.

'No he doesn't,' Dvd insists. 'Ptonomy made us share. David doesn't want anything to do with us.'

Divad gives him another exasperated look. 'Must you always be such a child?'

'Fuck off, separate person,' Dvd snarls.

Divad looks to the ceiling and sighs. Then he turns back to Dvd. 'We both need to get better so we can fix our system.'

'Liar,' Dvd mutters. 'You're getting better so you can leave. You never wanted to be part of our system. The shit beetle fucked David up and now— You win. I'm outvoted. We're just three separate people who happen to share a body, we don't have anything to do with each other, so leave me alone.'

'I don't want to leave,' Divad insists.

'Oh yeah?' Dvd grabs Divad's notebook and points to the wish list. 'Liar,' he sneers again, and shoves the notebook back.

'And what do you want?' Divad challenges. He leans over to look, but Dvd turns his notebook over.

'None of your business,' Dvd thinks again.

'Fine, don't show me,' Divad thinks. 'It's not like it isn't obvious to everyone what you want. It's the same thing you've always wanted, it's the same thing you'll always want. David.'

'Shows what you know,' Dvd grumbles.

'What's that supposed to mean?' Divad asks.

'None of your business is what it means,' Dvd thinks again, because Divad is just not getting it.

Divad shuts up for five blissful seconds, and then he starts again. 'So why were you crying? And don't say none of your business. We're a system, of course it's my business.'

'We're not a system,' Dvd insists. 'It's done, it's over. We never should have happened in the first place. You know what we are? We're a mistake. David fucked up when he made us and all we did was hurt him, so you go ahead and leave the way you've always wanted to leave and—' He cuts himself off.

'And what?' Divad presses. 'You'll go hide in the bedroom for the rest of our life?'

'Maybe,' Dvd thinks, looking away from him.

'You're the one who talked me out of doing that,' Divad reminds him.

'Yeah, and I shouldn't have,' Dvd thinks. 'You were right. David has to be part of the world. He always should have been and all we did was fuck that up.'

'We all have to be part of the world,' Divad thinks.

'Now who's delusional?' Dvd sneers.

'We're all Davids, remember?' Divad thinks. 'Davids shouldn't be locked away. We shouldn’t have done that to David, I'm not gonna let you do it to yourself.'

'Try and stop me,' Dvd scoffs. 'And anyway, that's not— I'm not gonna do that so it doesn't matter.'

Divad gives him a curious look, then it shifts to concern. 'I know that face,' he thinks. 'That's the 'I'm gonna do something stupidly self-sacrificing' face. David gets it all the time.'

'Yeah, well, I'm a David,' Dvd admits. 'We share the same stupid face.'

'So let's hear it,' Divad prompts. 'What's the grand gesture that's stewing in there?' He taps Dvd on the forehead.

Dvd slaps his hand away. 'Like I said, none of your business. Maybe you should make that part of your precious mantra.'

'Maybe you should make 'We're a system and we help each other' part of yours, since you've suddenly forgotten how we work.'

'How we work?!' Dvd thinks, outraged. 'Don't you fucking dare tell me how we work. We don't, that's how we work! You know what our system was? It was torture. It was us torturing David for twenty years, deluding ourselves that we were doing something to help. The only thing that was ever good about our system is David and we're the ones that should— We should leave him alone. He doesn't need us, he never did. If we're gone— It's like we never existed. David won't have to remember us, he won't have to remember any of it.'

'We can't leave,' Divad insists. 'And David's never going to make a new bedroom if you're going to make it a prison. How do you think he'll feel, knowing part of himself is trapped inside him?'

'We're not parts of him,' Dvd mutters. 'You know what we are? Delusional fragments.'

'Fragments?' Divad thinks, surprised. 'What do they have to do with anything?'

'They finish what they're for and then they're done,' Dvd thinks. ‘That's what I'm gonna do. As soon as the shit beetle is gone, Dvd is done.'

'You can't be serious,' Divad thinks, concerned. 'Who are you even gonna fuse with? I'm not fusing with you, I'm just figuring out who I am! And so is David. Look at all the work he's been doing to be himself, you wanna mess that up? You're not some tiny fragment, you're— You're a whole person!'

'Then you have to wipe my memory first,' Dvd tells him. 'If I can't remember anything— You'd get all my powers, you'd love that.'

'Are you even listening to yourself?' Divad asks, at a loss. 'No one is wiping anyone's memories and no one is getting locked away and no one is killing themselves!'

'I have to do something,' Dvd insists, pained. 'I tried this foundation stuff and it's just— I can't be a separate person. I can't be outside all the time, I can't— I can't do all that stuff.'

'You did it for David,' Divad points out.

'For David,' Dvd thinks, firmly. 'Not for me. Not— Forever.'

'You're afraid,' Divad realizes.

'Of course I'm afraid!' Dvd thinks, annoyed. 'Even if we get rid of the shit beetle— The world is full of monsters. That's all the world is.'

'So what, you're going to abandon David to a world full of monsters?' Divad asks, disbelieving.

That stings. 'I don't— It's not like that. I just— David shouldn't have to share his body with any more monsters.'

Divad gives him a long look, then softens. 'Dvd, you're not a monster.'

'Of course I am,' Dvd says, because it's just the truth. 'You heard what Ptonomy said. We're both monsters. But you already want to leave, so— David will be safe from you no matter what.'

'We were just traumatized kids,' Divad insists. 'We have to forgive ourselves. Our whole system has to forgive itself for everything. That's what David wants. It's what we put down for our system foundation. We forgive each other, right?'

'You put that in,' Dvd thinks, still reluctant to trust any idea that comes from Divad no matter how good it sounds.

'And why do you think I did that?' Divad asks him. 'Because refusing to forgive— Ptonomy said that's refusing to let ourselves heal. We have to heal so we can make the torture stop.'

'Not existing would make the torture stop,' Dvd mutters.

'How do you think David would feel if he lost you now?' Divad thinks. 'He has feelings for you. You make him happy. You're— You're the light bulb in his lamp.'

'That's the last thing I am,' Dvd mutters. 'He doesn't even want to think about me at all anymore. Thinking about me hurts him.'

'That's how he felt about Syd,' Divad reminds him. 'We have to give him time, but— Leaving isn't the answer. Besides— If you're gone, who's gonna keep me in line?'

Dvd gives him a skeptical look. 'I thought you'd be thrilled to erase me.'

'Well you're wrong,' Divad tells him. 'I didn't— Thank you, before. For stopping me. So, uh, Thanks.'

Dvd doesn't know what to do with that. 'Protecting David is what I'm for.'

'It's what we both chose to do,' Divad thinks. 'We're not 'for' anything. We're just— Ourselves, and— We can choose what that means.'

'If that was supposed to make me feel better, it's not working,' Dvd tells him. 'I'm not like you. All I've ever been is one thing. I don't know how to be anything else.'

'You've never tried,' Divad points out. 'You know, I forgot what an absolutely terrible student you are. It's no wonder you're having trouble. You never learned how to learn.'

Dvd narrows his eyes at Divad. 'Are you calling me stupid?'

Divad pauses. 'You're a David. Davids aren't stupid. But we were supposed to have people helping us, and— We didn't. So we need to let people help us now, so we can be— What we were always meant to be.'

'We were meant to just be David,' Dvd says. If David had never been shattered, they would just be David. There wouldn't be a Dvd or a Divad.

'Well, it happened,' Divad admits. 'So we have to do the best we can with what we've got. We're all— A bunch of ceramic pieces on a tray, right?'

'Don't you start, too,' Dvd moans.

'Hey, that lamp is important to all of us,' Divad reminds him. 'David isn't the only one who loves it. We all love it. And if we're all the lamp— Then we all love each other.'

Dvd gives a disbelieving look for that.

'Or we're trying,' Divad allows. 'Ptonomy says if we help put each other back together, that will help our system heal. I want that. I don't— I never wanted to leave. I just— need to be myself. Being myself doesn't mean— Being alone.'

Dvd gives him a suspicious look now. 'That doesn't sound like a Divad thought.'

'Well, I've been trying to get better for a while,' Divad admits. 'I just— Didn't want to admit that I needed to. I was still listening, trying to take it all in. I just— Told myself it was for David.'

Dvd has to admit he relates to that.

'You know, you gave David a really good idea about that lamp,' Divad tells him. 'You showed him it wasn't his fault that he didn't do a good job putting it back together. And— Because David thinks we're all the lamp, he saw that it wasn't our fault that we didn't do a good job putting our system together. You gave David some really good advice. You should be proud of that.'

'I guess I did do that,' Dvd realizes. He just couldn't take David beating himself up about that lamp one more time—

'And, um, I once read— That being brave isn't not being afraid. It's— Being afraid and then doing it anyway. So all the covering you did for David, even though you were afraid— That was really brave of you to do that.'

'Are you giving me compassion therapy?' Dvd asks, suspiciously.

'Sort of, I guess,' Divad admits. 'But mostly, I just— I don't want you to give up on yourself, or on us. I want our system to be— Healthy and supportive and— The opposite of torture. I want it to be something that makes us happy. I want us to love each other. Maybe that's impossible, but— David wants it, and— We were always so focused on what we thought David needed. We should try to give him what he’s actually asking for.'

'What if he never wants to see me again?' Dvd asks, feeling terribly vulnerable and hating it.

'If he can't ever forgive you, then— I don't want a system with someone who hates you.'

'Any system with you is always a system with someone who hates me,' Dvd thinks.

'Not anymore,' Divad insists. 'This is me forgiving you, okay? Because you were only trying to keep David safe. And because you were right about me, and— I should have listened to you. I was so busy always being right that— I couldn't see how wrong I was.'

'You were really wrong,' Dvd agrees. But he looks to Divad. 'Do you mean it?'

'I'm thinking it, right?' Divad points out, wryly. But he sobers. 'Yes. I mean it. I know our lives have been hell, but— We always stayed alive for each other. We kept each other going, even if— That meant tearing each other apart. If you hadn't been with me all those years— You were the only one who knew I existed. You were the only one who cared. I never thanked you for that, either, so— Thank you.'

Dvd just stares at Divad.

'Do you have to look so shocked?' Divad asks, self-conscious.

'Yeah,' Dvd thinks. But he shakes it off. 'Um. You're welcome, I guess.'

Divad looks pleased by that. 'So c'mon. Let me see your notebook.'

'No,' Dvd thinks. Divad's going to make fun of him for it, call him an idiot— Dvd's already humiliated enough that he can't do what Divad and David can. He feels useless and stupid and—

'Okay,' Divad thinks. 'Then maybe you can help me with mine. I still need to do the last section, and— That's the hardest.'

'The therapy list?' Dvd asks. He didn't even try to start on his therapy list, it just felt— Completely beyond him.

Divad shows him his notebook. He has two new mantras along with the new wish list. 'I don't have to hurt David and I never did,' Dvd reads. 'That's a pretty good mantra.' And 'I'm not going to be forgotten'—

Dvd never wanted to be known, not by the world. As long as David knew him, that was all that mattered. So of course that's what the shit beetle took away. David still barely knows him. But Dvd barely knew himself. He thought he did, but—

It reminds him of Kerry, suddenly. She's said things like that, about how she didn't know herself. How she was doing things because they were the only way she knew to do things, but it turned out— They weren't what she needed. Dvd's never really— Wanted to talk to someone. About himself. Because he didn't matter, only David mattered, and— Because there was no one who could understand.

But Kerry might understand. And— Maybe Divad understands. He's the only one who understands— What it means to just be David for so long— He doesn't know what's left now that the David they used to be is gone.

A fresh wave of grief catches him by surprise. David is David, he's always been David, but— There's still a ragged, gaping hole where Dvd's heart should be. And it feels wrong to— Letting it heal would be— It would be giving up. But he can't— Not love David. Even if David hates him forever now, he can't not love David. Even if he's not— Dvd's David. Even if he'll never be Dvd's David ever again. Loving David is— It's who Dvd is. It's all he's ever been. He's— David's Dvd. He doesn't belong to himself. He belongs to David.

He wipes roughly at his eyes, then looks at David at the table, sitting with Syd and— Loving her. And it's torture. It hurts so much. He tries so hard to accept David's love for Syd. He can't do anything to hurt David, and— David doesn't remember what they had. Even if what they had— Was all wrong. It was theirs.

But David forgot. David forgot him.

'Dvd,' Divad says, concerned.

'I miss him so much,' Dvd thinks, his face crumpling with grief. But he can't— He can't cry in front of David, he can't— He can't let David see— He can't—

But there's nowhere he can go. He can't leave, there's no bedroom to save him. The only place he can retreat to is the loft, so he projects himself there and curls up in the corner where David was before, thinking about how much he loved Dvd. Dvd curls up and cries against his knees.

It's not long before someone comes after him. It's only Divad, thank god. Dvd never thought he'd be grateful to have Divad be the one to see him breaking down.

Divad offers him the tissue box again, and Dvd takes it. But tissues only make him think of David. David's the one who always goes through all the tissues. Dvd's supposed to be the one who makes him smile again. If he can't make David smile— What's supposed to make Dvd smile?

'Oh, c'mere,' Divad sighs, and pulls him into his arms. 'I miss him, too.'

Dvd clings to Divad. They never used to comfort each other. They were stress responses. They had to comfort David, that was what they were for. But David doesn't let them comfort him anymore, not like he used to. And without that— Dvd never realized how much comforting David was about letting David comfort him back. How much holding him was just— So David would hold him. Because they were just as terrified and traumatized as him. Because all the bad things were happening to all of them, not just David.

But David forgot. He forgot everything, all the terrible things and all the good things. All the little things they shared, every small gesture, every futile self-sacrifice— All the times they held each other, all the times they made each other smile. All of that, all of that is gone, and it's torture to be the only one between them who remembers it. It's torture.

Fuck the shit beetle. Fuck him. He must be loving this so much, he must be wallowing in Dvd's suffering, gorging himself on it. Well, fuck him. Fuck him fuck him fuck him.

Dvd pulls himself out of Divad's arms and breathes in, wipes away his tears. Fuck the shit beetle. If they have to build new foundations to build a new system to get stable to get the crown off to crush the shit beetle into dust and immolate his ashes in the heart of the sun, then that's what Dvd's gonna do.

'The therapy list,' he thinks, summoning his notebook again. 'Um. We need to do that.'

'Okay,' Divad thinks. He sits back beside Dvd and summons his own. He gives Dvd one more concerned look before getting down to business. "I thought— We'd use both David and Syd's to figure out what we need for ours.'

Divad creates two loose pages, each with David or Syd's foundation work. It makes Dvd feel a tiny bit better that Syd hasn't filled in her wish list yet either. He doesn't want to empathize with her, but— She ruined things with David, too. Dvd feels— Spitefully glad but also— Annoyed at her for hurting David, but also— Kind of bad for her being sucked into the hell that the shit beetle made for all of them.

Whatever. He looks at the therapy lists with Divad.

'First one's pretty easy,' Divad decides. 'Accept help. Period.'

'Yeah,' Dvd agrees. Dvd doesn't need to be loved by all the people helping them, he just needs to get better. They both write it down.

'Leave my old refuge,' Divad mulls. 'Stop punishing myself. I'm not— Sure what our refuges are? Maybe we could just put— Stop punishing our system? We all have the shame parasite, remember?'

'Fine,’ Dvd thinks.

'Be open and vulnerable,' Divad reads. 'And learn to recognize what I'm feeling and to manage my reactions.'

'Ptonomy said we need to do what David's doing,' Dvd reminds him. 'So we don't— Blow things up and run away.'

Divad grimaces. 'Then both?'

'Both,' Dvd agrees. 'We don't need to find our motivations, though.' The shit beetle's utter annihilation is more than enough to keep him going.

'Believe I am worth saving,' Divad reads, and pauses. 'I need that.' He writes it down.

'I don't,' Dvd insists.

Divad gives him a look. 'Five minutes ago you asked me to erase you.'

Dvd groans. 'Fine. I'll write it, too. I just— Wouldn't need that if David—' He doesn't finish. There's no point. David might never love him again, and if he doesn't— And when the shit beetle is dead—

That future feels painfully empty. His motivation will be gone, he'll be alone, and then what will be the point of him? Nothing. He'll be— He'll be done. Maybe by then— Maybe Divad will change his mind and erase him and then let him fuse. It wouldn't be great, he wouldn't be himself anymore, but—

He can't think about all that. He has to stay focused on getting better so he can destroy the shit beetle. He can end himself after they get better.

'Should we put down the foundation and mantra?' Divad asks.

'I guess,' Dvd says. 'They don't really feel like—' He trails off.

'They're not ours yet,' Divad thinks. 'We need to make them our own. Let's put: Make my foundation and mantra my own.'

Dvd writes that.

'And the next one,' Divad continues. 'Build my new self, figure out who I'm supposed to be? Or maybe— Be in the world and find myself in it. What about you?'

Dvd doesn't know what to put. If he's just going to get erased anyway— He doesn't see much point in putting all that work into figuring out who he is. He's Dvd, he's the part of David that loves David. If David doesn't want that part of him anymore, Dvd should just stop existing. He shouldn't try to be something more than what he is.

'I don't need that one,' Dvd thinks.

'Are you sure?' Divad asks.

'I don't need it,' Dvd insists. 'Let's just keep going.'

'Okay,' Divad accepts. 'Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them. Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others. Let's leave those the same.'

'Fine,' Dvd thinks, and writes them. They're almost done, thank god.

'The last two are just David's,' Divad thinks. 'Learn to trust my own mind. Be more than my shame. Those are— What David needs to thrive. So we should put what we need to thrive.' He thinks hard. 'I already put a lot of that in my wish list, but— This is about therapy, so—'

'I don't need that part either,' Dvd thinks, and closes his notebook.

'Dvd,' Divad thinks, concerned.

'I just need to get better,' Dvd insists. 'I don't need all this— People stuff. It's too much.'

'The people stuff is what helps us get better,' Divad thinks.

'For you and David, sure,' Dvd thinks. 'But not for me. It's just— Not for me, okay? I'm not like you two, I can't—' He struggles to continue. 'I don't want to talk anymore. Leave me alone.'

'You can't be alone,' Divad reminds him. 'You have to sit with someone, even if you don't want to talk. How about— How about Kerry? She's reading one of those books. You can just sit with her or— You can read with her.'

'Fine,' Dvd grumbles. He thinks away his notebook and hugs his knees again.

'I'll send her up,' Divad promises, but hesitates. 'Dvd—'

'Leave me alone,' Dvd mutters, and puts his head down, hiding his face.

Chapter 101: Day 11: What *did* happen to my rational mind? (Divad)

Chapter Text

Divad was so focused on David not hearing his and Dvd's session and their conversation that he forgot about the relay. Everyone heard everything, everyone except David and Syd. And they didn't just hear what Divad and Dvd said, they heard their thoughts, they heard whatever Dvd was thinking. And what Dvd said was worrying enough.

He doesn't even reach the bottom of the stairs before Kerry is standing up, book in hand and determination on her face.

"I'm here," Divad says aloud, so she knows where he is.

Kerry walks over to him. "We're gonna keep Dvd safe, okay? We're gonna get the bad ideas out of him."

Divad looks at her, at Ptonomy and Amy and Lenny and Oliver— And he thinks— Maybe they really are his friends, too, and Dvd's friends. "Thank you," he says to them, humbled yet again. He's not doing this alone. That's in all their mantras now, and— After a lifetime of thinking they had to do everything on their own, that no one could help them— Divad's never been so glad to be wrong.

He steps aside as Kerry walks up the stairs to the loft, and he watches her go up. She did so much to help David when he was— When it was all too much for him. He knows she'll be able to help Dvd the same way.

"What's going on?" David asks, looking around at everyone. He stands up, looks up at the loft, worried and uncertain. 'Should I— If Dvd needs help—'

"Divad," Ptonomy says, standing up as well. "How about we all sit together?" He walks over to the table and sits down, and David hesitates before sitting down, too.

Lenny detaches from Amy, and they and Oliver come over to the table.

"I'll relay to Syd for you," Ptonomy tells Divad. "It's important that we're all on the same page."

'You said we shouldn't tell David,' Divad thinks at Ptonomy. He wanted them all to talk about it together as a system, but now—

'Dvd's situation changes things,' Ptonomy tells him back through the relay. 'David needs to know about Dvd's condition, and he's going to have questions. We'll all help both of you through it.'

Divad glances around at everyone. It's not like has a choice about this, but— 'Okay,' he tells Ptonomy.

'Thank you,' Ptonomy says, and then turns back to David. "Dvd is— Struggling right now. He's had to accept that the relationship he had with you is gone, and without that— He sees no future for himself."

"No future?" David asks, concerned.

“He’s suicidal,” Ptonomy says, blunt but as gentle as possible. “Like you were after your relationship with Syd was destroyed."

David takes that in. He looks at Syd, at Divad, up at the loft again, and then to Ptonomy. "I don't remember what we had," he says, strained. "And after what you said, that— That Dvd had sex with me to control me, when that wasn't what I wanted— And Farouk—" He cuts himself off, looking ill.

"It had nothing to do with Farouk," Divad defends. Except everything was always about the monster, the monster was always there, always— "Dvd was just trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" David asks, at a loss. "How did that protect me?"

Ptonomy raises a hand to stop them, then relays Divad's words to Syd. Then he waves them to continue.

Divad struggles for the right way to explain all of this. Maybe there is no right way. "You have to understand," he tells David. "All of us, all we ever wanted was to make the torture stop. And even though we could've just locked ourselves in our bedroom— We couldn't abandon you. But staying meant hearing your thoughts. It meant— Sharing your life, your choices. And that was— It was torture for us. So we did whatever it took to— Stop you from torturing us. Even if that meant—"

Ptonomy relays that to Syd while David stares at Divad, horrified.

"It wasn't our fault," Divad says, urgently. "We were just kids, we had a monster in our head ruining everything—" He rubs at his face. "If we could go back we would have done everything differently. We would have kept trying to get help. We would have found someone who believed us. We would have been honest about our powers, our system— But we didn't know how. We didn't know we could without— Making everything worse. And it was already so bad—"

He stops so Ptonomy can relay that to Syd, and so he can gather himself. David's not saying anything, he's not even thinking anything, he's just staring at Divad.

"David," Divad pleads.

David holds up a hand, just like Ptonomy. "I know it's— I know whatever happened— I know it wasn't our fault, I know that. But it's—" He stops, struggles. "The thing is— All of this— I don't know if— Remembering would make forgiveness— Easier or harder. Sometimes I think— Whatever I imagine, it couldn't have been— But maybe it's the opposite. Maybe what we did to each other is so awful—"

Divad doesn't know what to say. It was exactly that awful, but it was also— "We were just parts of you. And Dvd— He just wanted you to love yourself. We heard your thoughts like they were our own, and the way you hated yourself— It made me angry, but Dvd— He tried to love you so much you had to love yourself. No matter what the monster did, now matter how awful your thoughts were, he never gave up on you. If it wasn't for him—"

David sits back, stunned. Ptonomy relays to Syd, and Syd looks— Like she suddenly understands something. Like some missing piece just fell into place.

"I really was your Dvd," Syd tells David, gently. "Even when your life seemed— Utterly hopeless— You had love. I think— What you felt for me, before— That's what you felt for him."

'That's how I felt,' David thinks, upset and confused but— 'Dvd felt like Syd, but things went so wrong with Syd— They went wrong with Dvd— How much of my whole life is just— Re-enacting a past I can't possibly remember? Re-enacting is— It feels like I shouldn't do anything I did before, but— Then what's left?'

"David," Ptonomy says, gently. "Remember, this is like your memories. There's good and bad mixed together in those re-enactments. In fact, you could see re-enacting as— Another kind of memory. Farouk might have taken most of your conscious memories, your experiential and semantic knowledge, but— There's a lot he didn't or couldn't take away. He took away all those memories of your mom, but he couldn't make you forget how much she loved you."

David stares at Ptonomy. "But he did make me forget, that’s gone."

"You still remember," Ptonomy says. "Divad, tell David how your mom loved you."

"Um," Divad starts. "Like she wanted to fill us up with so much love— We would never lose it."

Ptonomy relays that. "Amy, was that how your mom's love felt to you?"

"Of course," Amy says, sad but— Warmed by the memory. "She knew that— One day we'd lose her, but— She wanted her love to always be with us, to live on inside us for the rest of our lives. She taught all of us how to love, David. She showed us every day. And on the bad days, she loved us even more. That's what kept all of us going, what kept your system going. That's what kept you going when you lost everything else. Mom's love."

David puts his hand over his heart. 'Syd said— That's why she fell in love with me,' he thinks.

"You took that love and made it your own," Ptonomy tells David. "Just like you have for the ideas in your foundation work. And once it was yours, nothing could take it away. That love is part of your foundation and always has been. And the thing about your system? You shared everything, so you shared that love."

'So the love I feel and— The love Dvd feels for me— They're from Mom?' David thinks, wondering.

"And me," Divad says. He's had enough of David feeling like Divad doesn't love him. He wants their system to be love, not torture. "Maybe I'm— The worst at showing it, but—" He takes a breath. "Shame makes it— Difficult. David, I'm sorry for the way I treated you. I'm sorry I made our shame worse. I thought somehow that— If we just made the right choices— The torture would stop and then— You'd stop wanting to die. And I'd stop wanting to die. Don't be mad at Dvd for— Trying to stop all of us from wanting to die."

Ptonomy relays that to Syd. And David listens to it again, from Ptonomy.

"And now Dvd wants to die," David says, quietly. He rubs his face, frustrated. "I wish I could just— Love him back the way he needs me to. And I do feel— Something for him, but—" He looks distressed, painfully so.

"It's okay," Amy soothes, putting her arm around him. "All of this is so much. It's okay to feel upset."

"But— Me being upset—" David struggles. "He's hearing that. That's— Me being upset is what tortured you. Hearing me not loving him—" He looks at Syd, pained. 'It hurt so much, hearing Syd not loving me. God, I can't— I can't do that to him, but—'

That reaction is what Divad was afraid of. It would be so easy for David to spiral, and that would make Dvd spiral, and— 'Ptonomy,' Divad thinks to him, worried. 'Please tell me you've got this.'

'We've got this,' Ptonom assures him. "David," Ptonomy says, in that calm but firm tone that works best for grabbing David's focus. "Dvd needs to learn to be his own person. Depending entirely on you is unhealthy for him. Just as it was unhealthy for you to depend entirely on Syd. He needs to learn to be his own Dvd, just like you're learning to be your own David."

"Okay, but—" David starts.

"You know how difficult that can be," Ptonomy continues. "And Dvd will absolutely need your help, just like you need his help for your therapy. But now isn't the time for that. He’s just learning how to be his own person. He needs you to let him do that. He needs the space to work through his feelings."

"But I can't just— Let him suffer," David protests.

"That's exactly what you need to do," Ptonomy says. "That's what Amy and Syd and all of us had to do for you. And now you're getting better, right?"

"Yeah," David admits. He looks around the table. "Was it really— Like this?" he asks them.

"Worse," Syd admits. Amy nods in agreement, and so does Lenny. Divad nods, too.

"I'm sorry," David says, upset. 'I never meant to—'

"It's okay," Amy says. "Just keep letting us help you get better. We're helping Dvd too, and Divad. We're helping all three of you build a healthy system together."

David leans against Amy, grateful. He visibly draws strength from her, then straightens up. "Okay. Um. What should we do?" He glances at the clock. "Should I um, swap with Dvd?"

"Not yet," Ptonomy says. "Let's give him some time to himself. And David, I think you have a question that Divad needs to answer."

"I do?" David asks, confused.

"About how your system works," Ptonomy says. "A while ago, you asked Divad about— I believe you called him 'your rational mind.' Divad, what happened to David's 'rational mind'?"

Shit. Shit shit shit. Stay calm, Divad tells himself.

"What did happen to my rational mind?" David asks, realizing how good a question that is. "He would've been— Really useful for— Well, everything."

"He was temporary," Divad says, absolutely avoiding the question.

"Temporary how?" David asks, suspicious. "And how could he have been temporary? Even Farouk couldn't—" Realization dawns on his face. "He's— He's part of me, part of our system. Divad, what happened to him?"

'I really hate you right now,' Divad thinks at Ptonomy, instead of glaring at him. David never would have thought to ask without the reminder. "Y'know, you'd know this if you'd actually paid attention to Syd's book."

David gives him an astonished look as Ptonomy relays that to Syd.

"Well, now's your chance to enlighten me," David challenges. "How can we be a system of three people if there's four of us?"

Divad bites his tongue. He refuses to think of a number.

"More than four of us?" David asks, astonished again. "How many Davids have there been?" When Divad still refuses to answer, David huffs in annoyance. "Syd, can you, uh, get your book?"

"Of course," Syd says, and goes to find it. It was in Cary's work area. She brings it back and David takes it, opens to the section on DID.

"Alters," David reads aloud, skimming. "Types of alters— Wow, there's so many kinds—" He reads, dragging his finger down the pages. "But none of these are temporary." He keeps skimming, then looks up, frustrated. "I have no idea what I'm looking for. Can you please just tell me?"

"Fragments," Divad spits out.

"Fragments," David echoes, and looks for that. "'Fragment alters are very limited in their role. They may only have a small number of emotions, hold particular isolated memories, or have a very limited job. Special purpose fragments are even more limited, they may carry out a very limited role and never act beyond that.' He reads it again, silently. "Okay. So my rational mind was a fragment. That still doesn't explain what happened to him. Is he still inside me somewhere? Can I— Can we find him?"

"He isn't missing," Divad admits, through gritted teeth.

Ptonomy gives them another push. "We thought it was odd that your system has only three members," he explains to David. "Especially a system that went through such extreme trauma. On average, a system might have 15 members, but there are those that go into the hundreds."

"Hundreds?" David asks, amazed. "How do they even function?"

"It's extremely difficult for them," Ptonomy admits. "Usually there's a smaller number that tries to manage things, and the bulk of the members might never leave the inner world. But your system found another solution. Divad, would you like to tell David, or does it need to be done on your behalf?"

'I hate you so much,' Divad thinks at Ptonomy. "Fine," he says to David, tersely. "Look, you need to understand. We couldn't have— A bunch of fragments running around the place. Our head wasn't safe. They weren't like me and Dvd, they weren't strong enough to protect themselves. When bad things happened— They appeared to help, and then— They were done."

"Done?" David asks, warily. "What, did you kill them?"

"Of course not!" Divad says, annoyed. "They fused with us."

"Fused?" David asks. He looks down at the book again, then back to Divad. "I thought— We can't be glued back together, as one person."

"Reintegration used to be the primary goal of DID therapy," Ptonomy admits. "In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if the reference books your system read when you were young said exactly that. Divad?"

"Yeah," Divad admits.

"So your system read those books, and you and Dvd accepted the idea that you weren't quite real," Ptonony says. "You weren't hallucinations, but you didn't want to be real enough for the monster to target you the way it did David. And when more alters appeared, as you said, your head was a dangerous place. The three of you had worked out how to manage that, but more alters meant more potential ways for the monster to hurt David. So you used what you learned from the books to keep your system small."

"So reintegration is actually possible?" David asks.

"It is," Ptonomy says. "But it's not necessary for systems to reintegrate to be healthy, and it's not necessarily even desirable. You've spent your whole lives together. Fusing would mean losing the companionship you've shared, it would mean losing those relationships. It would also mean merging your senses of self and accepting all of your collective memories, emotions, and trauma into one identity. Remember, your system was created because that trauma was too much for one David to bear."

"Okay," David says, taking that in. "But— What happened to my rational mind?"

"He fused with me," Divad admits. "All the fragments that appeared— They came into existence to protect you. Sometimes they had— A little knowledge, or a little power, or— A few memories. After they helped you, we found them, explained the situation to them. We told them they could become us and we’d be stronger. They wanted to protect you, so they agreed."

Ptonomy relays that to Syd.

"So— You're my rational mind?" David asks, amazed. "But he was British."

"He was tiny," Divad defends. "A drop in the bucket. He only existed for what, a few minutes? An hour max. He fused with me, so now I remember finding you in that mental coffin and helping you with the classroom, even though Farouk still had me trapped. It's a little weird, having a bunch of double memories, but— We got used to it."

Ptonomy relays this, and then turns back to Divad. "So how complete are the fusions? Is it possible for David's rational mind to separate himself from you?"

"I told you, I'm David's rational mind," Divad says, annoyed. Honestly, that should've been obvious. Ptonomy even described him that way, as the rational, logical part of David.

"And all these fragments," Ptonomy says. "Did any of them fuse with David?"

"Why the hell would they do that?" Divad asks. "No one wanted to be tortured. And yeah, it's not like being us was great either, but—" He shrugs.

"How many fragments have there been?" David asks.

"We didn't keep count," Divad says.

"A dozen?" David prompts. "Two dozen?"

Divad shifts uncomfortably. "Look, we stopped counting after a hundred."

David stares at him. "I have no idea how to feel about this."

"What's there to feel?" Divad defends. He slaps his chest. "I got the thinkers, Dvd got the fighters. All it did was make us more ourselves."

David rubs at his head like he's getting a headache. "Where did they even come from?"

This is why Divad didn't want to talk about it. "You," Divad admits.

"Me?" David asks, flatly.

"Our system," Divad amends. "I mean, it wasn't like— Your rational mind wasn't your whole rational mind. He was just— A fragment of your— Ability to, uh— Think rationally."

"And you never thought giving the fragments back to me might help?" David asks, upset.

"They broke off for a hell of a good reason," Divad defends. "They didn't want to go back and— It wasn't safe for them to just hang around."

David takes slow breaths. "So if I'm understanding all this, which is shocking since apparently my own ability to think just up and walked away from me— A good part of why I, David, fell apart so badly that you two needed to lock me up inside my own body, was because the functional parts of me didn't want to be me anymore."

"That's pretty much how DID works," Divad points out.

That does not make David any happier.

"Monster in our head," Divad reminds him. "Monster in our head specifically torturing David, of course you didn't want to be you anymore! That's— What we are! That's the whole thing!"

"And you can't just— Send them back?" David asks, tersely.

"What part of fused do you not understand?" Divad asks, impatiently. "Look, I'm sorry, but— We wouldn't’ve had to scoop all those fragments up if you didn't keep breaking them off in the first place, and that wouldn't have happened without the fucking shit beetle making our life a living hell. And besides— Farouk already patched you back up."

David stares at him. "You call this patched?" he asks, pointing at himself.

"Hey, you made it through ten years of torture without us," Divad says. "Well, four years of torture and then, uh, six years of being David the zombie, but— Let me tell you, the David you were before college could not have managed even that much."

"I destroyed our life," David protests. "You were furious with me for that."

"Yeah," Divad admits. "But— It wasn't your fault. The shit beetle was torturing you, and you didn't have us, you had no idea about anything."

Realizing how strong David is makes it so much more obvious how sick David was at his worst. How much of a— Non-functioning disaster he was. It didn't take an insane amount of Haldol to make David unable to tie their shoes, not back then. He was just—

God, there was just— Barely anything left of him by the end. And then Farouk found a way to give back so much of what he took away. Even if he just did it so he could take it all away again— It kills Divad that the monster figured out how to do what he and Dvd never could.

"We did it because we had to," Divad says, needing David to understand. "The fragments wouldn't go back to you. Fusing's a two-way thing. You were the sinking ship everyone was jumping off of, they weren't gonna get back onboard."

"Is that why you didn't try to fuse with David?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yeah," Divad sighs. "Look, other systems, their head is the one safe place they’ve got. We never had that."

"How about the period between your system's creation and when you were old enough to read psychology books in the library?" Ptonomy asks. "What happened to the alters created then?"

"We hid them in our bedroom," Divad admits. "But it wasn't good, keeping a bunch of terrified little kids cooped up in there. Once we figured out what to do— After they became us, we didn't have to— They didn't have to hide anymore."

"They or we?" Ptonomy presses.

"Me," Divad insists. "We fused. It's just— Confusing, explaining all this. Remembering. Me and Dvd have a lot of— Extra memories."

"That's a common problem around here," Ptonomy points out. “One more question. Why is David’s rational mind the only alter that David remembers?”

“Because Farouk always made David forget,” Divad admits, unhappily. “He just— Didn’t get the chance the last time, not with Cary’s halo in the way.” It's a tiny solace, a drop in the bucket to still have that one shared memory with David. But remembering being able to help David, and David being grateful, David thinking fondly of that part of Divad— That means a lot to Divad. A hell of a lot.

Ptonomy relaxes, apparently satisfied. "Thank you for being honest with David about all of that."

"So that's where he got it from?" Lenny asks. Divad's startled to hear her talk, she's barely said a word to them since breakfast. "The cocktails. Mixing people together."

"Maybe," Divad shrugs. "He didn't really fuse all the Davids back together, though. We're still us. It's just David who got changed."

Ptonomy gives Lenny an expectant look, and probably tells her something over the mainframe. Whatever it is, Lenny's annoyed by it. Divad relates.

"That's the same thing he did to me," Lenny admits, finally looking David in the eye. "David— We gotta talk about Benny."

"Now?" David asks, overwhelmed.

"Captain's orders," Lenny sighs. "Look, I'd be just as happy as Divad to ignore all this. But you gotta know about the fragment stuff and you gotta know about me."

"I already know you're a cocktail," David points out. "We're both cocktails."

"Yeah, but— I think we were wrong about what's in my cocktail," Lenny admits.

David frowns at her, confused. "You're Lenny and Benny."

"That's the thing," Lenny says, reluctantly. "We don't— Actually know what Benny was like. If you loved him— Even if you were a self-destructive mess— We need— I need to know how much of me is actually Benny so I can figure out how much is actually Lenny and how much— Is your asshole parasite."

"You're not Farouk," David insists, worried.

"Look, your sister's hot, I'd bang her in a heartbeat if either of us had a working snatch," Lenny says. "But I'm not hugging her for foreplay. I'm doing it to stop my mind from falling apart. But it’s still falling apart, so— If there’s gonna be two Farouks wandering around Division 3, one of them in the mainframe, we gotta know that. Now."

David's eyes go wide. "Oh."

Lenny looks to the ceiling. "And we need this guy to save the world? The world is so fucked."

Divad should probably be offended by that on David's behalf, but honestly? He feels the same.

Chapter 102: Day 11: A shattered mess that used to be a person. (David)

Notes:

TW: self-harm urges

Chapter Text

David does at least get one of his customary breaks before he has to plunge into a dissection of yet another part of his own life that only other people remember. He's restless and wants to leave the lab, needs to be somewhere else, somewhere away, but he can't because he doesn't want to disturb Dvd when he's already so upset. He doesn't want to risk-- Making Dvd worse.

This must be how Dvd and Divad have felt about him. Not just since they got the crown, but all their lives. Life. All their life.

So David wanders around the lab. At least it's a big space, despite being full of equipment and furniture and people. Technically he doesn't have to sit with anyone if he's not sitting down. He knows that argument wouldn't hold up for a second if he tried to actually use it, but he tells himself it's true anyway and no one corrects him. Usually Cary's in his work area but he's inside of Kerry right now so no one's there so that's where David ends up.

Today was going-- It was a rough start but it was going okay, he was feeling-- Like he had a grasp on things. Like he was making progress. And now-- He stands in front of the two trays of ceramic pieces that used to be his lamp, and--

No one's glued it back together yet. He thought they'd have started on it by now, but-- Maybe they can't. Maybe they shouldn't. He reaches for a piece, but hesitates, feeling-- The urge to crush it into countless tiny fragments to see if they can put that back together. He'd like to see them try. Maybe he should take the trays up to the garden and throw all the pieces off the roof, watch them fall and smash one by one. Division 3 can vacuum up the dust that's left, like they vacuumed up the black dust that used to be people. Isn't that what he is, a shattered mess that used to be a person?

He turns away from the trays before he does something stupid. He needs to not do something stupid. Like pulling the cover off the amplification tank and jumping in to recover the memories locked away by his traumatic amnesia. He really needs to not do that. There is no way that would help, even though it feels like the only thing that would help. He just needs to remember. He needs to and he can't and it's killing him.

He turns away again and runs right into Syd.

"Sorry," he says, stumbling back, automatically raising his hands in surrender, apology, like he did the first time they met and he was trying to offer her a Twizzler. He has nothing to offer her now, nothing, why is she still here?

"It's okay," Syd says, long past being skittish the way she was her first day in Clockworks. She doesn't scream when she's touched anymore, even though she still feels needles under her skin. She changed so much the year he was gone and he didn't change at all. Because he never lived that year. He's Past David, living Future David's life with all these Future People.

"Do you want to talk about-- Any of that?" Syd offers, obviously concerned. "That was-- A few shocks all at once."

Even though he knows she's right, he shakes his head once, tightly. He doesn't feel able to talk, not about any of that, not about Benny even though he'll have to talk about Benny because Lenny needs it.

He rubs at his temples.

“Getting a headache?” Syd asks, sympathetic.

“My head should be too empty to ache,” David mutters. “What exactly is the point of telling me even more things I can’t remember?” So much for not talking. Like he has any control over his body, much less his brain.

“Don’t you want to know about Benny?” Syd asks.

“I thought I already did,” David sighs. He glances over at Lenny, sitting on the sofa with Amy and Divad. It gives him— Weird feelings, thinking—

He can’t— He can’t even start to untangle that massive knot yet.

He leans back against the counter, closes his eyes, and rubs at his head. He hears Syd walk over to the medicine cabinet and open it. A pill bottle rattles familiarly. He hears her move to the sink, fill a cup with water. He hears her walk back and put the cup on the counter beside him, and then the whisper-soft taps of two pills being put down.

David really wants to refuse her kindness. He feels so much and all of it hurts and at least physical pain is-- Something he can control. Like when he used to cut himself with the dullest blade because that felt the worst. He hasn't done that in a long time because he found other ways to hurt himself. To punish himself. But he thinks about it now and wonders what the edge of a piece of broken ceramic would feel like.

Fuck. Fuck, this is a shame attack, too. Have all of his shocks triggered shame attacks? It was hard to tell before, when his whole life was just one long shame attack. But now he has actual moments where he doesn't feel like he needs to punish himself verbally and physically and any way he can. It hurts so much, being yanked back down after breaking the surface and finally getting a clear breath. He knows he doesn’t have to feel this way anymore but he does and it’s— Excruciating.

He forces himself to take the pills and hates himself for it. How dare he do anything to stop his suffering? What's wrong with him is that he's not broken enough.

God, shame really is what's eating him alive. It really is the parasite that's feeding on him, huge and bloated on his pain. It really is what makes him want to kill himself.

He doesn't want to die. He doesn't want to be broken, he doesn't want to suffer. He doesn't want it and it's not who he is. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, lets it out. His eyes dampen, but that's okay. It feels like relief. He looks over at Syd. She's watching him, quiet, concerned, patient. Letting him work through it, because-- He needs to be able to recognize what he's feeling and manage his reactions. He needs to stop punishing himself. No one can do those things for him.

He keeps breathing, keeps refusing the shame. Fuck his shame. He should be as angry at his shame as he is at the shit beetle. They're both parasites, trying to steal his strength for their own. He's stronger than both of them and they can fuck off.

The pressure in his head suddenly gives and he needs to sit down. He makes it to Cary's chair and slumps, feeling like he just went through a battle. Maybe he did. He still feels ashamed because he always feels ashamed but it's weaker now, it's a level he can manage. It was a battle and he won it. Nothing can take that victory away from him.

Syd pulls over another chair, Kerry's chair, and sits with him. And like Kerry, she just keeps him company, stays with him.

Like Syd used to do in Clockworks, like Lenny used to do. Lenny and Syd and Kerry, all of them just-- Quietly sharing their love with him, even when he felt utterly unable to accept it. It overwhelms him, suddenly, all that love, all that gentle kindness, and his eyes tear up and spill over.

He thinks— Even without holding his hand over his heart, he can feel them there.

He wipes his eyes and tries to collect himself. He hopes Dvd is okay after hearing all that. And Divad. He's sorry for hurting his system. He's supposed to do that, apologize, even though-- They haven't agreed on those words, even though-- They need them. He needs them.

"I guess it was a few shocks," David admits, his voice rough, cracking.

"Mm hm," Syd hums, nodding her strong agreement.

David gives a dry, breathy laugh, caught by the understatement of it all. God, he just found out that his entire self has been-- Shattered into tiny pieces and taken by other people who are also himself, except not because who the hell would ever want to be him? And how did Farouk even manage to patch him up? With copied memories and god knows what else.

"I guess-- You guys were really-- Trying to keep it simple for me, with the whole brothers thing," David admits, tightly. He gets that now. He was starting to get it with the Dvd revelation but—

"It's a pretty big mental adjustment, going from-- A separate person to a system," Syd says. "Especially with everything your system has been through, that you've been through. I guess-- The brothers idea was a stepping stone. And it's not-- Entirely untrue. All of you are Amy's brothers. The four of you grew up together, you shared the same parents. You being adopted didn't change that. All of you being identities shouldn't either."

"Yeah," David admits, seeing the sense in that. Divad and Dvd must have been desperate for anything that would help coax David back to them, even if the full truth was bound to make the idea of being brothers-- A very poor fit.

"But we're not brothers," David says, needing to make the admission aloud. On a deep and fundamental level, they are not brothers. "We’re a system and that— Whatever that means, it's a lot more than just being people who happen to share a body." People who happen to share a body can’t— Swap parts of themselves. They can’t— Be one person, and then somehow be another person.

His rational mind was just— his rational mind, some amount of David the identity’s ability to think rationally. And then David freaked out so badly in that mental coffin that part of himself just decided to not be him anymore. Not being him meant it was able to be calm and helpful and guide him through a lot of confusion.

And when that was done— That part of himself agreed to fuse with Divad. So that part of David is now Divad. Permanently, or— As permanent as anything in his life could possibly be.

It's really-- Dizzying, when he tries to wrap his brain around it. Their brain, he supposes. Their mind, their life, their body. He gets that now in a way he didn't before. Because they're not brothers, they're-- A co-conscious, telepathic system that shares everything. It's no wonder the entire idea of boundaries has been-- Basically absent.

But accepting that— The more he accepts what he is, what’s happened to him— The less he feels like he’s anything at all.

“If parts of myself can just— Walk away from me, then— What does it even mean to be me?” David asks, at a loss.

“I’m trying to understand that myself,” Syd admits. “You’re a very complicated person, David.”

“Complicated,” David echoes, strained. “Complicated was— Having mental powers and a mental parasite. This is—“ He casts about for the right word. “Labyrinthine.” And he’s— Lost in the middle. “Lenny said, um— She said I’m the ship.”

“The ship?” Syd asks, an adorable furrow to her brow.

That’s right, she wasn’t there for that conversation yesterday. She was— Somewhere else. He never asked her where she went, he was— Reeling from too many things, like he is now. “The ship of Theseus?”

“Ah,” Syd said, understanding. Of course she knew about all that. “You are the ship,” she agrees, considering the idea.

“Lenny brought it up,” David tells her. “She said she was, um, learning philosophy in the mainframe so she could help me.” Which makes David want to help her even more than he already does, even though he’s dreading what it will mean for himself. What he’ll have to learn to help Lenny.

“It’s about— Continuity through change,” Syd says.

“Where did you go yesterday?” David asks, admittedly changing the subject.

“Oh,” Syd says, surprised. “Nowhere, really. I just— Needed to think.”

“You were gone a long time."

“I had a lot of thinking to do.”

David thinks that’s a fair point. He’s certainly had plenty to think about, too much if he’s honest. “So what did you think about?”

Syd looks— A lot less eager to talk, all of a sudden. David instinctively stills, worried he just— Said the wrong thing. Wrong, he remembers her saying in the loop, cold and cutting, nothing he said was ever right—

“How to make a choice I could live with,” Syd says, then looks concerned. “David?”

“Sorry, I just— Remembered something I don’t want to remember,” David admits. Ptonomy said they could talk about what happened with Syd in private, but— They already have to untangle Benny and Dvd needs help and god, they’ve barely done anything for David’s possession trauma today except make it worse. When will they even have the time? He doesn’t feel remotely ready to talk about any of that with Syd.

But Syd always reads him so well. “About me?” she asks, regretful.

David nods.

“It’s okay,” Syd soothes. “We don’t have to talk about it now.”

David wishes that wasn’t such a relief. “Sorry,” he says, hating that— He can’t just forgive her and move on and be happy. He just wants to be better, for everything to be better, but— There’s no way out but through.

He turns away from Syd, just enough, and tries to gather himself again. He really needs— Comfort. Touch. And he knows if he asks, he could have that. Syd would hold his hand, she already has. Because she’s not skittish anymore. She isn’t afraid of touch even though it’s uncomfortable for her. She had a year to become the her she is now. To become— Future Syd.

Is Syd the ship? The Syd who loved him, the Syd who punished him, the Syd with one arm— Are they all the same Syd? Does she have— Continuity? He still doesn’t understand anything that happened with Future-Future Syd. He doesn’t know why she did any of the things she did, why— She let Amy— Why she let him

He missed so much in the year he was gone. How much did he miss in all the years ahead of them? Will being with Syd mean-- Being with the person she was-- The person she will be-- The person-- She would have been? If Syd's therapy is meant to-- Make her not become the person she became—

He's starting to think that no amount of painkillers is going to make his head stop aching. And he's supposed to be clearing his head for the Benny stuff, not making it worse.

"David," Syd says, concerned.

He can't-- "I just, um-- Have to--" He stands up, hesitates, and then walks away, feeling awful for it but unable to-- It's too much.

But everything's too much. And he just-- Hasn't felt this-- If he could just leave-- But he can't leave, he can't--

Wait. He can. He just has to--

He doesn't do what Divad did. He's not going to just drop their body like that. But it's all he can do to sit down in the nearest chair, and then-- He's out. His headache, the pain of the crown, the overwhelming pressure building under his skin-- They're gone and it's such an enormous relief. He doesn't say anything, just-- walks as far away from everyone as he can and tries to just-- Exist without-- Feeling like he's going to explode.

"David!" Syd calls, alarmed to see his-- Their body suddenly unconscious. She rushes over to it, tries to shake it awake. Everyone else is worried, too, standing up, walking over. He tries not to think about Syd's hands on him. It's not even really him.

"He left their body," Ptonomy tells her. "David?" he calls, searching for him, but David hasn't said anything so they don't know--

"He's by our bed," Divad says, giving him away. When Ptonomy comes over, Divad follows him.

"Must you?" David mutters.

"Hey, this is exactly why I didn't want to tell you any of that," Divad says.

"So you were just gonna keep lying to my face?" David says, even more angry.

"You weren't ready," Divad insists. "You think we want to lie to you? You used to know all of this. How do you think it makes us feel to have to tell you what you should already know, things that are so much of who we are, and then have to hear how much that hurts you?"

David doesn't know what to say to that. He hugs himself, pushes back against the corner he's tucked himself into.

"David, go back in our body," Divad says, tiredly.

David shakes his head. "Give it to Dvd. Or take it yourself, I cut you short."

"You need someone to comfort you," Divad insists. "And I wish it could be me but--"

"Divad's right," Ptonomy says. "We know you're struggling with a lot. We heard all of that. You're fighting so hard to not hurt yourself. But isolating yourself isn't the answer. Let us help."

"I have to do this myself," David insists. It's in his therapy list, he has to-- Manage his reactions.

"You do need to learn to manage your reactions," Ptonomy agrees. "But part of that is knowing when you can't manage on your own. It's okay to ask for help. That's what all of us are here for. Remember the love advice? If the problems are big, you should get help. That's part of giving yourself healthy love."

"'I have the right to say no' is in there, too," David says, angrily. "But I can't say no to any of this.”

"You don't want to talk about Benny," Ptonomy says, understanding. "You're afraid of what you'll learn."

David doesn't answer. Ptonomy heard his thoughts, he knows already, they all know. And it doesn't make a single bit of difference. 'No' is a hobby, it doesn't mean anything to anyone but himself. And even he doesn't listen when he tells himself no. He tells himself no to feeling awful all the time, but he still feels awful.

"Look, I'm not thrilled about it either," Lenny says, coming up next to Ptonomy. "But talking about Benny's what we both need to get healthy so our 'no's can matter a hell of a lot more. So let's just rip the band-aid off already and get this over with. Then we can get back to your giant list of mental illnesses and psychological problems. That's way more fun, am I right?"

That drags a dry laugh out of David.

"Sorry you lost your cruise director today," Lenny says. "I guess-- I've been dealing with my own bunch of shocks. But I should've done it with you. I pulled away so you did, too. I'm sorry."

David gives her a meaningful look, but-- She can't see it. He looks over at their unconscious body. He's not thrilled to have to get back inside it. But if he doesn't-- Lenny can't see him. Amy can't hug him. He was angry with them for not telling him about Dvd, and-- He didn't want to take Amy away from Lenny, but-- He missed them.

"We missed you, too," Amy says. She's next to their body, her hand on its shoulder, steadying it. Syd's not touching it anymore. "So come back, okay?"

David can't possibly say no to that. But he doesn't want-- He hates the feeling of-- Losing control of himself. It's been a while since it got this bad, maybe since-- He was in the cell. Things were-- They were bad in there, really bad. But they're better now. He's doing better, even if-- It doesn't always feel that way. He’s working hard to not hurt himself even though he really, really wants to. But it's-- It is too much for him to manage on his own. He should have asked for help.

"Remember what helps you stay," Ptonomy says, gently. "What's a good thing that will help you?"

Amy, he thinks, relief washing through him. He takes a step, then two, then strides back to their body. He hesitates again, looking down at it, and then grits his teeth and sits down into it.

It hurts. His head hurts, and his whole body is so tense and miserable-- But he stands up and Amy is waiting for him.

"I'm here," Amy soothes, holding him.

David takes a sobbing breath and holds her back.

Chapter 103: Day 11: Is this you giving us your approval? (Divad)

Chapter Text

It's hard watching Amy and Lenny comfort David when Divad wants to do the job himself.

It was always hard having to watch Dvd be the one to comfort David, to stand apart from them as Dvd soothed David's troubled thoughts. But as Dvd said, they made their choices: Divad chose the world and Dvd chose David. Now they have the chance to make new choices, but it's going to take work to make their new lives real. It's going to take time and forgiveness and all the things in their new foundations.

Divad can't even go and comfort Dvd. Kerry's the one doing that, and of course she's doing as good a job with Dvd as she did with David. Divad peeked in on them and saw them sitting together on the floor, Dvd quietly reading over Kerry's shoulder, Kerry waiting until he finished to turn each page. Dvd cried again from listening to David's breakdown, from not being able to do what he's always done. Because he can't do what he's always done anymore, none of them can.

Oliver and Ptonomy are sitting quietly together again. Divad's pretty sure they're doing mainframe work. Oliver's relaying Syd's thoughts now as well as their system's, and Ptonomy must be working hard to prepare for Dvd's embodiment and session time. Or maybe they're preparing for the Benny conversation. Divad knows he's going to have to be in the spotlight for that. Dvd could help, but in the shape he's in, talking about Benny would probably be as unhelpful for him as him talking to Syd was earlier.

But Divad's not the only one stuck on the outside, and at least he has the excuse of being a mental projection. Syd's sitting alone and looking quietly miserable, and that's not how this is supposed to work. No one should be sitting alone. The problem is that Divad is only a mental projection, and he can't talk to Syd without the relay even though-- He wants to.

Ptonomy's working so hard to help their whole system, Divad doesn't want to interrupt him. But maybe Oliver-- 'Oliver?'

Oliver opens his eyes and looks over. "Excuse me," Oliver tells everyone in the sitting area, and stands and walks over to the table where Divad and Syd are sitting. "May I join you two?"

"Oh," Syd startles. She looks around the table, looking at the empty chairs and obviously wondering which one is occupied. "Uh, of course."

Oliver gives her a pleasant smile and sits next to her. Divad moves to the seat on the other side of her. "I'm here," he tells Oliver.

"Divad is over there," Oliver says, pointing at him. "He'd like to speak with you, but he needs me to relay for him verbally. Is that all right?"

Syd looks at the chair beside her, empty to her of course, and then back to Oliver. She seems very surprised, but-- Not unhappy about it. She nods to Oliver, then turns back to the chair. "Divad," she greets, cautiously. "Are you, uh, doing okay?"

"I saw what happened with you and David," Divad tells her, and Oliver relays. "I'm sorry. I know how hard all this must be for you."

"It's not easy," Syd admits, quietly. She glances at David. "How about you? I know-- All of this must be very difficult for you and Dvd. Trying to get David back."

"What was it Amy said?" Divad asks, and Oliver relays. "Sometimes siblings are apart, and then they're back together. Even if we're not actually brothers-- We’re back together now, we just-- Have a lot of healing to do." He pauses. "Like you and David."

Syd raises her eyebrows. "Is this you giving us your approval?"

"Maybe," Divad admits, and Oliver relays. "Look, honestly-- In a lot of ways, it would be easier if-- We could keep everything to our system like we always did. But that wasn't good for us, any of us. David loves you, and as long as he wants you in our life-- Then I'm okay with that."

Syd looks deeply touched by that. "Thank you, Divad. That means a lot to me."

"That doesn't mean we're gonna let you hurt him," Divad warns, because he has to. "It's our job to-- Help David be the David he wants to be. And he doesn't want to-- Be the David that accepts being hurt because he thinks love is letting people hurt him."

"Should you be telling me that?" Syd asks, warily. "David doesn't like it when you two tell me his secrets."

"He already told you," Divad reminds her. "Maybe not in so many words, but-- It's in his foundation and I know you're studying that just like we are."

"That's true," Syd admits. "So, um, maybe we can work together? To help David be his own David. I want to do more, but--" She glances at David again. "I have to let him come to me."

"You do," Divad agrees. Ptonomy made it very clear to them early on that trying to force David back into their old system wouldn't work, and he was right. Not just because David is different now, but because-- Their old system wasn't worth saving. It's-- Like a fragment. It was there to help them, it did its job, and now-- It's done. And quite honestly-- Divad is glad. "We've all made a lot of mistakes," he admits. "But you're trying to be better. David sees that, and-- So do I. Thank you for the therapy list. I think it'll help all of us a lot."

Syd's pleased, but shy about it. "I just wrote what David's been doing."

"You've been paying attention," Divad says, and Oliver relays. Like Divad has, even though it took a while for him to accept help himself. "Even without hearing his thoughts-- You understand him. And I think-- You accept us. We haven't had-- It's, uh-- It means a lot to us. To me." He pauses. "Can I see it? The sketch?"

Syd glances at David again. "I guess you heard my conversation with him?"

"Watching over David is what I do," Divad says, and then-- "It's what I did. Though, honestly-- Even though-- I want to be myself-- We're a system, that's what we are." Dvd might be afraid they’re not, he obviously feels abandoned, but-- Divad wants to be with his system, he always has. "We just need to figure out-- What our healthy multiplicity is."

Syd's posture eases and her expression softens. She opens her notebook and then places it in front of Divad.

Divad's used to seeing Syd's drawings of their system. She drew them so many times over the year she was in Clockworks with them. But it was always obvious that she was drawing David. And now for the first time, he looks at Syd's drawing of them and sees himself.

This, right here, is a drawing of Divad. Being himself. Not him pretending to be David, like the photos in Amy's albums, but him being himself.

He must stare at it in silence for too long, because Syd frowns, concerned. "Divad? Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Divad says, and Oliver relays. "It's, um-- It's really good."

"Thank you," Syd says, pleased. "Um, David already asked for it, but-- I guess that means all of you get it?"

It does, and yet-- "Maybe-- You could draw another one just for me," Divad says.

Syd smiles. "I'd be happy to. David wants me to draw him again, too. And I'm going to draw Dvd, unless-- Do you think he'll mind?"

"Probably," Divad admits. "But you should do it anyway. If me and David get drawings and he doesn't, none of us will ever hear the end of it."

Syd laughs. "I guess he's the reason your system shares everything?"

"He's always the loudest about it," Divad says, with exasperated fondness. "But he just wants everything to be fair. Honestly, I think-- Maybe he does that to make things fair for himself, because-- He sacrifices so much for David. But when we share, he gets what he needs. He yells at me for being selfish, but— That’s just to cover up the fact that he feels selfish."

"It sounds like you've been paying attention to Dvd," Syd offers.

"Of course," Divad says, and Oliver relays. "I mean-- We're a system. I just thought-- Helping David was the only thing I was for."

"But it's not," Syd says.

"It's not," Divad agrees. "I think-- If we all get through this, get the crown off-- I want to finish my degree." He hesitates, thinking-- Should it be 'their degree'? But no. It's his, just his. "I don't know if you heard-- I wanted to go to med school?"

"To stop Farouk?" Syd asks.

"Yeah," Divad says. "But also-- We were never allowed to use our powers to help anyone, Mom and Dad said it was too dangerous. All of us hated that, even Dvd. But I thought-- Maybe our inside powers were safe. If they just looked like-- Knowledge, from the outside-- I thought maybe, one day, when the monster was gone, we could help people that way."

Syd’s impressed. "Do you still want to do that? You don't have to hide your powers anymore."

"That's true," Divad agrees, and Oliver relays. "I don't know if I still want to be a doctor. But I want to finish what I started, I want my college degree."

"I never finished mine either," Syd admits. "I was kind of a punk growing up, but I had good grades and my mom knew all the right people. I think-- I would've done pretty well for myself, but-- Mom was sick. And after she died-- All the things she pushed me to do, everything she cared about-- I just felt like, what was the point? And there was this guy, he had a thing for my mom like a lot of men. He was powerful, they always were, and cruel. And after she died-- I think he was angry at her for getting away. So he went after me."

"You never told all this to David," Divad says.

"No," Syd admits.

"So what happened to him?" Divad asks, wondering if an omega-level mutant should pay him a visit.

"Oh, he pissed off one of the leaders of an international paramilitary organization," Syd says, cooly. "He's not a problem anymore."

Divad can't help but think of Syd's childhood revenges, and Future Syd's revenge on David. David's starting to wonder about all of that, and Divad isn't looking forward to that conversation. "Is he dead?" Divad asks, with morbid curiosity.

"No, he just wishes he was," Syd says, and declines to elaborate. "I don't know if I'd want to finish my degree. Maybe? I was an English major, that was what my mom wanted for me, of course. And I like writing, I'm good at it, but-- I don't know. The world feels a lot bigger to me now."

"You could change majors," Divad suggests. "You should do what's right for you, not what your mom wanted. It's your life, right?"

"It is," Syd says, pleased by the thought. "Thank you, Divad. You're right. I need to think about what I want. I, ah, do need something for my wish list."

"Well," Divad says, feeling brave. "If we all survive this and everything works out-- And we both go back to school-- We could be study buddies."

Syd looks touched. "I'd like that very much." Then she hesitates. "I know I said-- That we need to be friends for David's sake, but-- I hope we can be friends because that's what's right for both of us. I-- Haven't had many friends."

"Neither have I," Divad admits. "I was always pretending to be David, and-- We didn't want to drag anyone else into our personal hell. For our protection and theirs."

"Now that Farouk is out of you, he's everyone's problem," Syd says. "Obviously that's not a great thing for the world, but-- I truly believe that-- If we keep getting better, he won't be able to hurt us anymore."

"I really want to believe that," Divad says, and Oliver relays. "The things he did to us— I still don't understand why any of it had to happen. We never even knew our real dad, this whole revenge thing-- It's crazy."

"Crazy might not be the best term to use," Syd says. "But-- If you ask me, I think Amahl Farouk is-- Mundane." She says the word like an insult.

"You know he just heard that, right?" Divad says, and Oliver relays.

"Good," Syd says, firmly. "I want him to hear it. You know what he is? He's just like all the men who came to my mom's salons, looking to take her down. They all thought they were gods, too. All they really were was pathetic and they knew it. That's why they did everything they could to make themselves look so big and important. Reality was too humiliating for them."

Divad always thought Syd was a little terrifying. It's kind of amazing as long as they're not on the receiving end. "I really hope you don't have to regret saying that."

"Haven't you heard?" Syd asks. "When someone hurts me, I hurt them back with interest. I always have. If Farouk thinks he knows me so well, he should know that."

"Maybe you should put that in your wish list," Divad suggests, wide-eyed.

"You know, I think I will," Syd says, and takes her notebook back. She flips to her last round of foundation work. "My wish list. Go back to college. Pick a new major. Graduate. Make Amahl Farouk wish he was dead. Not in that order." She puts her pen down, looking very satisfied.

"Not-- Kill Amahl Farouk?" Divad suggests. That's what he'd want to put on his, now that he thinks about it.

"Oh, he definitely needs to die," Syd agrees. "But first I want him to wish he was dead. Men like him, those big game hunters? The only thing they understand is power. So I want him to feel as weak as he's made us feel."

"Okay," Divad says, considering that. "If we're a team, then-- We can make it a one-two punch." He feels giddy, talking about all this, but-- It feels really good. Just-- Fuck the shit beetle. Fuck Amahl Farouk. He should feel as weak as he's made everyone else feel, because he doesn't understand shame any more than he understands real love. And then he should die, because the world is absolutely better off without that monster in it. He can't think of any idea more rational than that.

He summons his mental personal notebook and opens to his last round of foundation work. "Kill Amahl Farouk," he writes, after: 'I want a degree with Divad Haller on it.' It's a little-- Stark, after the items about his new future, but-- It's very satisfying to write that, to finally put his anger where it belongs. "If this is what it's like to be your study buddy, our professors are going to be terrified of us."

Syd laughs, genuine and open. "My professors were already terrified of me."

"Mine were, too," Divad admits, and Oliver relays. "They always wanted to know how I knew all the things I did, things no one else knew. I told them I read a lot of research papers in my spare time, but-- They never really believed me."

"As far as the world's concerned, we're just superstition, make-believe," Syd says. "The war's over, but mutants are still everyone's dirty little secret."

"Cary wants to change that," Divad says. They talked about it a little, between all the science stuff. "He says the war won't truly be over until mutants can live freely without hiding their powers."

"He doesn't think small," Syd says, surprised. "He's probably right, but-- I always felt keeping my powers a secret protected me."

"That's what we thought, too," Divad says. "But if there'd been anyone else, if we'd found other mutants like us sooner, they could have helped us like everyone here has helped us. Maybe things would have been worse if Division 3 found us, maybe it was all for the best, but-- We were so alone."

"That doesn't make any sense," Syd says, concerned. "Your system is so powerful. You must have been able to hear that there were other mutants out there. Even other telepaths."

"But we didn't," Divad insists, and Oliver relays. "We were alone. We didn't even-- We couldn't even find any other systems. We thought-- They were so rare--"

"DID isn't that rare," Syd says. "And Divad, you were in mental hospitals. Of course there were other systems around you. And there must have been other mutants, it's just-- Impossible that you didn't hear any other systems or mutants in all that time."

"But we looked," Divad insists, certain. "David listened for them, but he never--" Realization dawns on him. "Shit. Shit, of course."

"What is it?" Syd asks.

"The monster made David forget," Divad sighs. "And even if David managed to tell us-- Farouk could make us forget, too."

"He did say that," Syd says, soberly. "I'm sorry, Divad."

"We knew there were blanks,” Divad admits. “But-- Even when David forgot and I forgot, at least Dvd remembered. But he must have made Dvd forget those moments, too. And it wasn't-- Sometimes we knew we forgot because Amy or our parents or someone else knew what we forgot, and they said something or David heard them thinking about it. It was just-- Part of the torture, letting us know we'd forgotten."

"God, he's really the worst," Syd mutters.

"He is," Divad agrees, heartfelt. And then he realizes something else. "Shit. God, how am I so stupid?"

"Divad?" Syd prompts, worried.

"Last year, when Farouk-- When he made Amy tell David we were adopted," Divad says. "Me and Dvd didn't know either. And that's-- Impossible. Just like the other mutants and systems-- We must have heard our parents and Amy thinking about us being adopted. But we didn't remember David hearing that and telling us. And everything was so awful-- It was just one more shock."

"Your system doesn't do well with shocks," Syd says, understanding. "Of course you weren't thinking clearly. And then when you got David back, and your system was taken-- And you were worried about David and you were dealing with so much--"

"You're right," Divad acknowledges, and Oliver relays. "Of course you're right, it's just--" God, this is how David feels, fighting against the void of his amnesia. Divad knows, he's heard it over and over. "I don't even-- Know how much we forgot. What else is missing. I've just been so focused on David, on keeping us safe and alive and-- I never-- Wanted to think about-- What we went through, what-- I went through. What we should have known and-- Just didn't."

"Because he took it away," Syd says. "Whatever could have truly helped you, he took away."

"He did," Divad says, the horror of it sinking in. "And that means-- He only left us with-- The ideas that-- He knew would hurt us." God, what else did they learn and forget? How many times did they get close to saving themselves, only to be sabotaged from the inside?

And that means-- It truly was impossible for them to make the right decisions. Absolutely impossible, when Farouk actively prevented them from even learning what the right decisions were. When-- Farouk was in their head, carving them into what he wanted them to be, right from the start. Cutting away piece after piece until the only choices they could make were the ones he let them make.

Their old system wasn't a fragment. It was a torture chamber.

"Divad?" Syd calls, concerned.

"I'm, um-- Having a shock," Divad admits. God, they can't all break down at the same time. Their whole system really is two trays full of ceramic pieces.

"Excuse me," Oliver says to Syd, then turns to Divad. "Divad, it's all right. David and Dvd are both being comforted. It's safe for you to let yourself be comforted as well."

"I'm just a mental projection," Divad says, tightly. "We can't tell David, and Dvd-- He doesn't want to talk to me, much less comfort me."

Oliver relays that to Syd.

"Then-- Let us comfort you," Syd offers. "You can make a mental projection of anything you want, right?"

"Yeah," Divad says, and Oliver relays.

"So-- Make a mental projection of a blanket," Syd says. "That always helps David."

Divad does that, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders.

"I suggest you tell yourself your foundation and mantra," Oliver says. "These are the moments those tools were made for."

"You're right," Divad says, hearing the shock in his voice. He's seen David pull himself back up with his words. Divad needs to do the same. "I am Divad. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself." God, he needed to make the words his own, but-- It feels like they were custom made for him right now. Because he is Divad, he did survive. He truly did not deserve anything that happened to him. And fuck the shit beetle, he refuses to belong to anyone but himself.

"Excellent," Oliver says. "Keep going."

'Divad is love,' that one-- Divad doesn't feel it enough to rely on it so he skips to his mantra. "There are things I lost that I'll never get back." Like who know how many memories, like their entire life. "But I’m here and I’m not alone." Syd and Oliver are here with him, helping him. Amy and Lenny are helping David. Kerry is helping Dvd. And Ptonomy is going to help all of them heal together.

He skips the mantra's love section. "I'm strong enough to heal," he tells himself, willing himself to believe it. "I'm not doing this alone." That one he believes. He truly does believe it. "I don't have to hurt David and I never did," he says, feeling that even more deeply than before. "I'm not going to be forgotten," he says, even though it's his own memory that he fears.

"And again," Oliver says.

Divad runs through them again, through the ones that make him feel calmer, safer. He is Divad, he survived. He didn't deserve what happened to him. He belongs to himself. There are things he lost that he'll never get back, but he's here and he's not alone.

He runs through the words again, again, again. They help. He's still in shock, but-- The worst of it is passing.

"That was wonderful, Divad," Oliver praises. "I can tell you've been paying attention, learning from David. You did such a good job."

"Uh, thanks," Divad says, surprised but pleased by the praise. He realizes that he's getting a little compassion therapy, but-- He did do a good job. He did learn from David. Even if it's therapy praise, he earned it. "Thanks, Oliver."

"It was my pleasure," Oliver says. "I'll resume relaying for you, if the two of you would like to continue talking?"

"Yes, thank you, Oliver," Syd says. "Divad, how are you feeling?"

"Wobbly," Divad admits, and Oliver relays. "But, um-- Crisis averted."

"I'm really glad," Syd says, warmly. "How about-- We do what Kerry and Dvd are doing? We'll just sit together until you feel steady again. You can watch me finish my sketch of you."

"I'd like that," Divad says. He needs-- Something to make him feel more solid right now, more real. He's glad Syd can give him that. He's glad David didn't stop loving her, so-- She can be a part of Divad's life now, too.

"Syd," Divad says. "I'm sorry. For the desert. We shouldn't have made you forget, that-- That was really wrong of us."

Syd looks at where he's sitting, obviously trying her best to make eye contact. "Thank you, Divad. It means a lot to me to hear that. Your apology is accepted. And-- I forgive you, okay? I really do."

"Thank you," Divad says, and tugs the blanket close as he settles beside her to watch her draw.

Chapter 104: Day 11: You need the truth about Benny. (David)

Notes:

TW: discussion of rape

Chapter Text

David is not ready to talk about Benny. He doesn’t see how he’ll ever be ready to talk about Benny. He can’t see what the point is in learning even more about— How he’s hurt himself. They’ve really solidly established that David’s been extremely thorough about hurting himself in every possible way. Remembering how he hurt himself with Benny just cannot make anything about his situation any better.

“I understand how it feels that way,” Ptonomy allows. “But we still have to talk about Benny.”

“Of course we do,” David mutters, sourly. “Tell me, what was the point in making me put ‘I have the right to say no’ in my foundation work if I don’t actually have the right to say no to anything?”

Ptonomy gives him a considering look. “You feel ready to have more control over your therapy. You made your own therapy list, based on Syd’s, and you have concerns about all the areas that need work, about fitting it all in.”

David hardly needs to confirm that when Ptonomy already has all those thoughts on record, but he does anyway. “Yeah, I do. Are you going to tell me I’m too sick for that?”

“Absolutely not,” Ptonomy says. “That list and your concerns are a very good sign. You’re learning the skills you need to be in control of yourself, to be your own David. We all want that very much. But to get there, you need to acknowledge and process your trauma, even the trauma you can’t fully remember. And that includes Benny.”

“So in order to learn how to make decisions for myself, I have to let you decide everything for me?” David asks, annoyed at Ptonomy for being reasonable. He always has to be so reasonable and it pisses David off.

“Consider me your training wheels,” Ptonomy says, unruffled. “You’re not strong enough to ride solo yet. But we got you on the bike and you’re pedaling.”

“Do you have to have a cute metaphor for everything?” David grumbles.

“Do they help you?” Ptonomy asks.

Yes, David thinks, and is annoyed about that, too.

Ptonomy smiles, amused.

“C’mon, band-aid time, remember?” Lenny says. “Let’s rip this thing off already.”

“That reminds me,” Ptonomy says, turning to Lenny. “I believe there’s another band-aid that needs ripping off. How about you show David how it’s done?”

If looks could kill, Ptonomy wouldn’t need to worry about his detachment syndrome anymore. But Lenny sighs in angry surrender.

“So, uh, David,” Lenny starts, forcing her words out. “Look, you know we need to do this to help me, right?”

David nods. She needs to untangle Benny and Lenny— And Farouk. “You’re not Farouk,” he tells her again. It doesn’t make any sense to him that she’s Farouk. As far as he’s concerned, there’s Lenny and there’s Farouk and— Even if it’s hard for him to pull them apart in his own mind— It wasn’t her that did those things. It wasn’t her. She was just a mask, she’s his best friend and he just got her back and he’s not going to let Farouk ruin what they have.

Lenny softens. “You’re sweet, kid. I’m gonna miss hearing your thoughts when you’re better. But I gotta get better too so I can be there for that.”

"You're not dying," David tells her, then hesitates. He looks at Amy and Ptonomy. "You're not dying, right?"

"No," Amy assures him. "But-- This morning, while you were in the garden, there was an incident." She looks across him to Lenny, expectant.

Incident. David hates that word. Doctors and cops and therapists love to call things incidents, especially while privately thinking about how they're David's fault. David always tried not to think about their thoughts because he thought they were delusions, but-- Now that he knows they're not--

No, stay focused. He needs to help Lenny. He looks at her. "So what happened?"

"Look, this whole-- Detachment thing," Lenny starts. "We're still figuring out how to manage it. Our android bodies help a lot, but-- Just having a body's not enough. We gotta use em. But they weren't, like, designed for this. There's a lot we can't do, things that would make us feel more ourselves. And for me-- The things that make me feel like myself-- Mostly they're, uh, junk food, mind altering drugs, and sex."

David knew about the food situation, and drugs-- Well, he supposes that's just another kind of food. And taking mind altering drugs probably wouldn't help when she's trying to stay herself. But sex? He can't help but glance at the android bodies around him.

"Yeah, if you ask me, aesthetically accurate is a joke," Lenny grumbles. "I mean, these things are a real upgrade from the Vermillion, but--" She sighs. "Anyway. So I kinda-- Wore myself out yesterday. But I can't sleep, either. And I'm not a hugger."

"You've been hugging Amy all day," David protests.

"I don't like people touching me," Lenny says, firmly. "But touch helps Amy and Ptonomy feel like themselves. I tried other stuff, but-- It wasn't enough. So this morning-- I wasn't feeling great. Cary noticed, he tried to help, but-- Then Kerry tried to help. And I, uh-- Took more than she wanted to give."

David frowns, not sure what that means.

"Fuck," Lenny mutters. "Look, I grabbed her pussy, okay? I molested her."

David instinctively shifts closer to Amy, and then feels bad about pulling away. He did that to Dvd and look what happened. But he can't--

"Hey, I'm not happy about it either," Lenny says. "You know how many times some asshole took more than I wanted to give? Why do you think I don't like being touched? But banging some hot chick until she loses her mind is one of the only things I've got and-- I needed it so I took it, and then as soon as I got enough to feel like me again I felt like shit."

David wraps his arms around himself, feeling worse himself. It's bad enough that Dvd used sex to control him. If Benny was-- God, was he-- In love with a rapist? Did Benny rape him?

"That's the thing," Lenny says. "Because whatever we remember from before Clockworks, it's not the truth. It's what Farouk put inside us so he could use me to rape you. And maybe the truth is great. Maybe you loved Benny and you got high together and everything was fine. Maybe all the bad stuff inside me is from Farouk, I don't know. But Farouk knows and I do not want him using me to rape you again."

If Lenny keeps talking this way, David isn't going to make it through this session because he's going to be sick again. And today's been hell on his stomach already.

"I'm sorry," Lenny says, backing down. "I know you don't wanna think about this stuff. I don't wanna think about it either. But I hurt Kerry because-- I'm not stable. I suppressed my trauma just like you. So we have to figure out what happened, we have to talk about it, and we have to learn how to stop it from happening again so we can both be better. Okay?"

It's not okay. David desperately wants to make this entire conversation stop. He wants Lenny to just be Lenny and he never wants to think about Benny or Farouk ever again. He just wants all of this to stop. Please.

"I'm sorry," Amy says, stroking his back, trying to soothe him. "I just want all of us to be happy, too. But denial won't make this go away. We all have to face the truth. But we're facing it together. Nothing we learn will make us love you any less. I love you, Davey. I always will."

David already spent a good while letting Amy hold him and soothe him just so he was calm enough to have this session. He feels selfish asking for more, but-- He can't get through this without her.

"It's okay," Amy soothes, and urges him to stop holding himself and hold her instead. "It helps me, too, remember? If there's anything that helps me feel like myself, it's loving you."

David lets out a harsh breath and lets Amy hold him. He knows they need to talk about this, he knows. He knows there's worse things waiting for him. But facing them is agony.

When David feels able to, he lets go of Amy and wipes his eyes, faces the group. Syd and Divad sitting together in one loveseat, and Oliver and Ptonomy in the other. Dvd and Kerry upstairs, apart from them but-- Surely listening.

"We're gonna take this slow," Ptonomy tells him. "One step at a time. The plan is to start with what you and Lenny remember about those years. And then Amy and Divad can tell us what they know."

"Why?" David asks. "Divad was there, he can tell us what happened."

"This is about more than just the objective truth," Ptonomy says. "And even though Divad understands now that what happened wasn't your fault, during the years you and Benny were together, Divad was was a prisoner in your system's body. That's going to affect how he remembers what happened. Dvd will be the same. Remember, they had to experience whatever you experienced. Which means your relationship with Benny was also, to some degree, their relationship with Benny."

David looks over at Divad with dawning horror.

"Yeah," Divad admits. "And Ptonomy's right. I know now that-- You did the best you could. You didn't know we were there. But back then--" He gives David a regretful look. "I'm glad now that-- You couldn't hear the things I said to you."

"Divad, I'm-- I'm so sorry," David says, even though it hardly feels like any amount of apologizing could even begin--

"You didn't know we were there," Divad says again, firmly. "Farouk did this to us, okay? He trapped me and Dvd and made you forget and kept us apart. Remember what Ptonomy said? It hurts now because you're coming back to us. And we agreed that-- If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. I want the pain to stop. So-- Before we start this, I want you to know that-- I forgive you."

"I don't even know what you're forgiving me for," David protests.

"It doesn't matter," Divad says. "We're a system and-- I want our system to be a safe place for all of us." He glances at Amy. "We've all made a lot of mistakes but we're trying to be better. And-- We can't get better without forgiveness. So I forgive you. And I'll keep telling you I forgive you until you actually believe it."

David doesn't know if that's-- The nicest thing Divad's ever said or the most exasperating. Maybe both. It doesn't seem fair to-- Force him to-- Accept forgiveness. But-- Refusing forgiveness is just a way he hurts himself. And he doesn't want to do that anymore.

"Okay," David says, accepting that Divad's going to be doing that, if nothing else. "Um, thank you. I think, um, it'll probably help."

"Good," Divad says, and leans back, satisfied.

"Divad, that was lovely," Amy says, approving.

"What did he say?" Syd asks.

"David, why don't you tell her?" Amy prompts.

David huffs, but does it anyway. "Divad said that-- He forgives me. He wants our system to be a safe place for all of us. And, um, we all made a lot of mistakes but we're trying to be better, and we can't get better without forgiveness. And, uh, he's going to keep telling me he forgives me until I actually believe it." He feels himself blushing at the last part and looks away.

"Amy's right, that was lovely," Syd says to Divad. "Thank you, Divad."

"Tell Syd she's welcome," Divad says, and looks even more pleased with himself now.

"Divad says you're welcome," David relays, and realizes-- Divad and Syd are suddenly awfully friendly. When did that happen?

"I kinda like her," Divad points out. "I told her she's not allowed to hurt you, but-- I wouldn't mind if she stuck around."

David feels-- Weirdly jealous. "But I haven't-- I still have to--" He glances at Syd. He still has to work through what happened, how she hurt him. Divad can't-- He can't forgive Syd before David does!

"Well, I haven't entirely forgiven her," Divad admits. "Just like I haven't entirely forgiven Amy. But you're the one told us to make up already. Dvd's gonna take forever to forgive anyone, someone's gotta pick up the slack. And hey, we're thinking about going to college together."

"College?!" David says, looking between them. "How would that even-- No. No, we are not talking about this now. This is-- We can't even leave the building, much less go to college, that's-- Do you have any idea how much therapy we need before we could go to college?"

"Oh, so much therapy," Divad admits, cheerfully. "It's on my wish list anyway. And Syd's. Maybe you should be thinking bigger than a tropical vacation."

David sputters. "I am thinking bigger," he protests. "I put down-- I want good memories and-- To be whole. How is that not ridiculously huge?"

"Yeah," Divad admits. "But that's just what you'll get from doing all this therapy. Don't you want-- Non-therapy things?"

The idea of trying to think beyond therapy seems-- Stunningly audacious to David. His entire life has been nothing but trying to get better and failing catastrophically. The possibility that he might actually succeed is miraculous enough. And Farouk is still watching them, waiting to make their life a living hell again and-- Lenny said it, he has a giant list of mental illnesses and psychological problems.

"Yeah, we're a mess," Divad admits. "But we agreed. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. So you need to start thinking about what you want to do when the pain stops."

David just doesn't know what to do with that. "Five minutes ago you tried to erase me," he protests.

"Five minutes ago you almost cut us with our busted lamp," Divad says, sobering. "Did I mention we're not stable yet? When we're up we make progress, and then we crash, and then we use that progress to pull ourselves back up again. I've been paying attention, I know how this works. So when we're up, we have to make as much progress as we can. And even if we all crash at the same time, we have all these people who are actually helping us. So it's gonna be okay."

David stares at Divad. That sounded-- Amazingly like something his rational mind would have said.

"Well, I am your rational mind," Divad insists. "But I was being tortured and-- That made me push us in the wrong direction. Now I know which way we need to go, because-- You showed me. So I'm pushing us your way."

"You're full of compliments all of a sudden," David jokes, self-conscious.

"I had some breakthroughs," Divad says. "Look, I know the whole-- Fragments and fusions thing-- It's a lot. You need time to process it. But you and Syd and Dvd acknowledged your feelings even though you aren't ready to be together. So now it's my turn. I want our new system to be good for all of us. I want us to make each other happy. I'm not angry with you anymore and-- That lets me feel how much I love you and how much-- I miss what we had before I decided I knew what was best for you. I'm sorry. I was wrong."

David’s just completely at a loss. He's glad, but-- It's so unexpected. "Um. I want-- Our system to be good for all of us, too. And maybe, um, when it's Dvd's turn-- We could spend some time together? We haven't really-- Talked, much."

"I'd like that," Divad says, pleased. "I'm sorry I've been-- Hard to reach. I've been trying to keep myself from thinking about a lot of things. It's hard to get better when you're refusing to be honest. Opening up hurt, and seeing the truth hurt you-- That was the worst part. But you need the truth about us. And you need the truth about Benny."

Damn it. David was really enjoying not thinking about Benny.

"Your rational mind is telling you to keep doing the work," Divad says, wryly. "But it's like Amy said, we're facing it together, so-- Let's keep doing the work together. Okay?"

David takes a deep breath, lets it out. Divad knows everything that happened, or at least his version of it. And Divad says he forgives him. So even if-- What happened was awful-- At least he has that. And he's not facing this alone. "Okay," he says, and turns to Ptonomy. “Let’s rip this band-aid off already.”

“Okay,” Ptonomy says, pleased. “David, since you’re feeling motivated, start us off. Tell us how you remember meeting Benny.”

David closes his eyes and concentrates. He thinks back, back, before Clockworks, before Philly, back to— College? No, college was over. He got his letter of expulsion and—

“Someone told me about a party off-campus. I wasn’t going to go, but— My roommate said the worst had already happened.” What was his name? David can’t remember his name. “He said— I should stop being miserable and have some fun on my last night. He went to the party with me, but— I lost track of him once we were there. I was upset, I drank way too much. I just—“ David pauses as the old feelings come back to him, faded but— somehow still raw. The anger, the guilt, the sheer sense of— Failure. The frustration of nothing helping, the medication not helping. He couldn’t understand why it didn’t help.

He knows now. It didn’t help because it never helped. And nothing helped because nothing was allowed to help. But he didn’t know any of that then.

“I don’t really remember what happened next,” David admits. “I don’t know if— Maybe there was something— I just felt really weird, really—“ He shakes his head. “And then I was outside in the alley, sick, and— Lenny was there. She, uh, helped me. Gave me some water. And then— It’s hazy again, but— I remember— Not wanting to go back to my dorm, to the college— So Lenny— Let me sleep at her place.”

“And the next morning?” Ptonomy asks.

“I was so hungover,” David admits. “My head was throbbing. I remember— Black coffee and— Breakfast cereal. Taking the bus back and— Amy was there, she helped me pack. We loaded up her car and she took me home.”

“Okay,” Ptonomy says. “Lenny, tell us what you remember. How did you meet David as Benny?”

David opens his eyes to look at Lenny.

"I don't, like, actually remember being Benny," Lenny points out. "I was me, but-- A different me. I was a dealer so I went to a lot of parties. Everybody was always happy to see me because they knew I'd make them feel good. That was my thing, right? So at one party, there's this guy, he's obviously having a bad time. So I give him something to cheer him up. But it turns out he's on some kinda meds, he has a bad reaction. I get him outside, give him some water. I tell him I'll get him home, but he doesn't wanna go home or to the hospital. I felt kinda bad since I made his night worse, so I let him crash at my place and made sure he didn't choke on his own vomit. In the morning he was okay, he had to go, and I thought I'd never see him again."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering. "The two versions you remember are pretty close. And David being drugged and sick, Benny taking care of him, that matched your dynamic in Clockworks. Amy, what do you remember from when you came to get David from college?"

"Well, Dad was there with me," Amy says, already concerned. "Farouk must have made you forget that. And-- You didn't have a roommate that year."

David startles. "What do you mean, I didn't have a roommate? I definitely remember--" He rubs his face, upset. This is King all over again and they've barely started.

"You had a medical exemption. We did ask the resident assistant to keep an eye on you after your seizure," Amy offers. "Maybe that's who you're remembering?"

"Probably not," David sighs. Of course he saw people who weren't there, that was-- Part of his schizophrenia. He heard things, saw things. He didn't know what was real. Now that he has-- At least a slightly firmer grasp on reality, all of that is-- A lot harder to face.

"Even though some of that was your powers, Farouk gave you those hallucinations," Ptonomy reminds him. "The hallucination of a roommate gave him another way to manipulate you. I think-- We need terms for the layers of reality we're discussing. There's the things that were real to you and to people outside of you. Your dorm existed. Amy visited you and we have records of your time there. Let's call that-- External reality."

"External reality," David echoes. "Okay."

"And the next layer, that's things you remember experiencing but that can't be externally confirmed. They're internal to yourself, your body, your system. Divad and Dvd can share their perspective on those things. We'll call that internal reality. But then after that-- We have the problem of genuine and altered memories. So for example, your genuine external reality was that Amy and your dad came to take you home from college. But your altered external reality was that only Amy was there."

"Okay," David says. "That makes sense."

"Good," Ptonomy says. "So we'll use those four terms: external and internal, genuine and altered. But I don't want you to feel any judgement about the ways in which those experiences come into conflict. Farouk was the one who decided the reality of your experiences. He changed your memories and he was able to use hallucinations to create the reality he wanted you to experience. To put it simply, as long as he was in your head, he was in control. You do not bear any responsibility for the decisions you made during that time. That responsibility belongs to Farouk."

Amy tightens her grip around David's waist and on his hand. David grips back.

"That's-- Really horrific," David admits. It used to be that all he saw was his shame, but now--

"It is horrific," Ptonomy agrees, soberly. "This is memory work, David. We're confronting your past from the perspective of the present. As we do this, be in your body, in the moment, but then find some distance. Try to see it from the outside. Take in the new perspectives that are being shared with you, let them help you change how you feel." He turns to Lenny. "And the same applies to you. Lenny, you are not Benny. The memories you share with David from before Clockworks are not your memories. You are not responsible for Benny's genuine or altered realities. Recognize that this is not your story."

"Aye aye, cap'n," Lenny says, with a mocking salute. But David can see that she's trying.

"Amy," Ptonomy says. "What happened after you and your dad arrived?"

"David wasn't there," Amy says. "We were worried, but-- Before we could go look for him, he showed up. He was in bad shape, he'd obviously been out all night. He smelled like alcohol and he was in a terrible mood, he just wanted to get everything packed and go home. We knew he was devastated about being expelled, so that's what we did. We didn't push him to tell us what happened."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So David, the external, genuine reality of what happened is that you received your expulsion letter and went somewhere, likely to a party, to drown your sorrows. But something went wrong and you didn't get back until the morning. Amy and your dad helped you pack up your things and took you back to your childhood home." He turns to Divad. "Divad, now tell us what you remember. Was this the night David met Benny?"

"It was," Divad says, unhappily. "Look, by this point-- Me and Dvd had tried everything to get control back. We still kept trying, but-- Being expelled-- It felt like-- The monster had won. The life we had, the life I built trying to save us, all that was over. We were all upset, but-- That day was really hard for me." He gives a bitter laugh. "Not that it mattered when I couldn’t do anything about it." He sighs. "Okay, so-- We all experienced our body’s hallucinations. So we all saw the roommate, but me and Dvd knew he wasn't real."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So you and Dvd were mentally present in your system's body during all of this? What about your bedroom?"

"We could go there, but-- Who knew what we'd come back to?" Divad says. "Hiding felt like giving up. And Dvd could sometimes-- The monster allowed him to take control if our life was in danger. Just enough to save us, but--"

"Farouk couldn't get rid of your bedroom," Ptonomy says. "But your need to protect David made it impossible for you to stay away." He pauses. "Let's get back to that night. Farouk’s hallucination brought David to the party. Is that what happened?"

"Yeah, we went out," Divad says. "But that party wasn't just-- kegs and beer pong and loud music. We were on heavy psych meds, we shouldn't have even been drinking."

"And then Benny gave David drugs?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," Divad says, and looks at Lenny with barely contained anger. "He slipped something in our drink. That was his way of 'making us feel good.' We saw, we warned David but he couldn't hear us. We drank whatever was in there and it hit us hard."

David looks at Lenny, and she looks back at him. "That's not what I remember," she says, upset.

"Because this is Benny's story, not Lenny's," Ptonomy says, firmly. "Divad, please continue."

"The place was packed," Divad says. "And it was loud and dark. But Dvd saw Benny watching us. When David put our drink down, Benny dosed it. But he didn't know about our meds. David got really agitated, he was freaking out, and then we got sick. We made a big mess right in the middle of the party, really killed the vibe. People got pissed, we were totally out of it. Benny told everyone he'd take care of it. He took us outside, got us some water. He tried to get us to leave, but David--" Divad sighs and looks to David. "You did what you always do when you're upset. But we weren't there to comfort you. Benny was."

David shifts, rubs at his face, takes some calming breaths. "So you're telling me-- Benny tried to rape me. But I got sick from whatever he gave me so-- Instead I-- Turned to him for comfort."

"He took us to his place," Divad says. "He actually-- Tried to sober us up. Black coffee, a shower, then he tried to take us home. I think-- He felt guilty. But you were really clingy, you needed touch, comfort, so-- He gave us that."

"What are you saying?" David asks, feeling panicky. "I made him have sex with me? He drugged me!"

"Oh, he definitely wanted to have sex with us," Divad says. "But he tried to make us leave and you wouldn't. You needed Dvd and didn't have him."

"Dvd made me have sex with him, too!" David protests.

"Dvd had sex with you because that was what you needed," Divad counters.

"Do you realize how insane that sounds?" David asks, incredulous. And Divad is supposed to be his rational mind?

"Okay, let's take a moment," Ptonomy says, intervening. "We need to stay focused on what happened with Benny. Divad, no matter how much David needed comfort, he was clearly in no condition to consent. If Benny truly cared about David's well-being, he would have taken David to a hospital and told them what he put in David's drink. But he didn't do that, did he?"

"No," Divad admits.

"I know you're trying to move past your anger now," Ptonomy says. "And you're making big strides with that. But you haven't yet worked through the anger you felt back then. I know those feelings are raw. But you need to find some distance so you don't hurt yourself and your relationship with David."

"You're right," Divad says, backing down. "David, I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

"Thank you," David says, exasperated. "Of course it wasn't my fault! Farouk made me go there and then Benny drugged me! At what point did I actually have a choice about any of that?" He leans back, trying to calm himself. Fuck. Fuck, of course it's awful. Why would anything in his past not be awful? Why did he think it would help to have Divad forgive him when it wasn't his fault in the first place!

"Divad, tell us what happened after that," Ptonomy says.

"We slept," Divad says. "In the morning, we felt awful. Benny tried to make us eat something, but David didn't want anything. All he could think about was the letter and packing up and going home. Benny gave us his number and he kissed us goodbye. David-- He thought he didn't deserve to be loved, so he threw out the number."

"So I did think Benny loved me?" David asks, flatly.

"You didn't know why we got sick," Divad says. "You thought Benny rescued us, took care of us and made us feel good. But that whole part of our life was over." He turns back to Ptonomy. "Amy and Dad brought us home, but home didn't help. Amy and Dad found Doctor Poole. He was supposed to be this great therapist for schizophrenics."

"Amy, tell us about that," Ptonomy says.

"All that's true," Amy says. "David's condition wasn't improving. And our house was so far out of the way. It needed to be for Mom's sake, but-- She was gone. When David was doing well in college, I thought-- It was my chance to have a life for myself. Move to the city, make new friends, go on dates, get a good job. I was just starting to build all of that when David was expelled. And when we found Doctor Poole, it seemed like-- The best thing to do was move David close to the doctor who could help him."

"But you didn't have him live with you," Ptonomy says.

"No," Amy admits. "I wanted my own life. We found an apartment between my place and Doctor Poole's practice. That way David could have support but also some independence."

"So that brought David back to the city," Ptonomy says. "David, when do you remember meeting Benny again?"

"Um, I ran into him at a convenience store," David admits. He closes his eyes and tries to picture Benny instead of Lenny. Benny is not Lenny. "I didn't remember him at first, that night was really hazy, but-- He remembered me."

"I bet he did," Lenny mutters.

"He asked if I wanted to get a drink," David recalls. "He said-- He knew some great parties. I said-- I wasn't really a party guy, so, uh, he said-- We could do something just the two of us. Wow, all of this is-- Really different coming from Benny."

"Lenny, what do you remember?" Ptonomy asks.

"I sure don't remember hitting on David," Lenny insists. "Yeah, I ran into him again. He looked kinda lonely, the kid was obviously in need. I thought a party might cheer him up. And if he didn't want to party, then we could just get high and leave all the bullshit behind us. Hey, I remember giving him that pill and him taking it because he wanted it."

"Because Lenny wouldn't drug someone to have sex with them," Ptonomy says. "And you didn't. Benny did. So tell us what you remember Benny doing."

"Oh, right," Lenny says, getting it. "Benny ran into David and thought a party would cheer him up. But David wasn't up for that, so Benny offered to share his stash with him. Benny knew that, uh, David couldn't take the hard stuff, so he offered something light. Take the edge off, you know?"

"And David agreed?"

"Yeah. He and Benny swapped numbers, made a date," Lenny says. "Not that kind of date. Well, I guess it actually was that kind of-- Whatever. Benny went over to his place and we-- They got high. Had some pizza, watched TV. It was chill."

"David, does that match what you remember?"

"Yeah," David agrees, though now he knows the truth was definitely something different.

"Amy, were you aware of any of this?"

"No," Amy says.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Divad, go ahead."

"Farouk didn't change much about the convenience store," Divad says. "Except that we obviously knew Benny was hitting on us. And David wanted Benny to make us feel good again. So yeah, the next day, Benny came over. We got high and ate pizza and watched TV. And we fucked. That’s when David fell in love with Benny."

"And I didn't figure out what he did to me?" David asks.

"Benny had other things on his mind when we were together," Divad says. "You loved how much he wanted us. The fact that he wanted to get us high and do things to us-- You liked it."

"I'm sure there were times when David didn't want the same things that Benny wanted," Ptonomy points out. "What happened then?"

"I told you, Farouk messed him up," Divad says. "He made David trusting. It's the same thing that happened with Syd."

"So if David was unhappy or hurt by Benny's actions, he blamed himself," Ptonomy says. "He felt his suffering was a punishment he deserved. Even when he felt angry or resentful, he accepted that Benny knew what was best for him."

"Yeah," Divad sighs.

"So what you're actually saying is that Farouk didn't change David at all," Ptonomy says.

"What?" David and Divad both ask, confused.

"The behavior you describe David having with Syd and Benny is exactly the same behavior he displayed with you and Dvd," Ptonomy tells Divad. "His shame, his neediness and passive acceptance. All of these are traits David has displayed since you became a system."

"But Farouk changed him," Divad insists.

"Farouk made David forget you and Dvd," Ptonomy says. "But all that did was make David search for someone outside your system to re-enact with. David accepted that Benny knew what was best for him because he grew up accepting that you and Dvd knew what was best for him."

"You're saying Benny and Syd were our fault?" Divad asks, upset.

"Your whole system was under Farouk's control from the start," Ptonomy points out. "So no, it's not your fault. But if you want to break that pattern, you need to recognize it in yourself. And you're starting to do that, both you and Dvd. You're recognizing that all of you need personal boundaries, that loving each other means respecting each other as equals."

"Farouk didn't change me in college," David says, grappling with that. "He changed my memories, but-- That was all?"

"We can't underestimate the power of memory," Ptonomy says. "And yet as Divad and Dvd admitted right from the start, David has always been David."

"I've always been me," David says, shocked. "I'm the ship."

"You have continuity," Ptonomy says. "Even without the memories you lost, you have continuity."

"But my rational mind, and all the fragments," David protests. "If all those parts of myself just walked away, how can I be me?"

Ptonomy considers the question. "We don't know how Farouk restored you. But I think-- It would help to remember that you're a system. No matter how many pieces that system is in, no matter how those pieces are arranged, collectively you are still one system. Whatever happened, Farouk couldn’t change that."

David grapples with that and fails. He barely understands what it means to be an identity, much less a system. Trying to understand all of that on top of piecing together his real past-- It's too much.

"Okay," Ptonomy allows. "We can set that aside for now. Let's get back to Benny."

"Great," David says, weakly.

"David, tell me about how your relationship with Benny worked," Ptonomy says. "What do you remember doing together?"

"A lot of drugs," David admits, trying to visualize Benny in place of Lenny again. "After college, I was-- Struggling. I saw Doctor Poole a lot, and-- I think he helped as much as he could. He was a lot nicer than the doctors I had before." Or at least that's what he remembers. "Sometimes I'd be okay for a while, and it really seemed like I was finally getting better again, that I could be-- What I remembered being in college." Except he was never what he remembered being. Those are Divad's memories. "But it never lasted. And when that happened-- Benny was always there for me."

"So you remember Benny keeping you company and helping you feel better with drugs," Ptonomy says. "And you don't remember Benny hurting you, manipulating you?"

"Well, I mean," David starts, uncertain. "The drugs wouldn't pay for themselves. And Amy got mad if I used too much of the money in my account. She didn't like Benny very much. She said he was a bad influence, but--" God, it feels awful to say this now, knowing what he knows. "Our friendship was the only thing I had for myself. He was the only one who-- Really helped me survive."

"I'm sure it felt that way," Ptonomy says, understanding. "No one knew you didn't have schizophrenia. They didn't know that your symptoms weren't symptoms, that they were Farouk intentionally giving you hallucinations and delusions, confusing your thoughts. They didn't know that the medication only made things worse for you."

"No," David agrees.

"And when you were with Benny, when you accepted the drugs he gave you, you felt better," Ptonomy says.

"Yeah," David sighs, thinking back. "I mean, it didn't make everything stop, but-- It was better." The vapor was the best, but it wasn't until the end that Benny found that for him. Benny was like having another doctor, his own personal pharmacist, always looking for what would make David float higher.

After six years of being drugged completely out of his mind in Clockworks, the drugs have lost their appeal. He doesn't want to lose himself anymore, he doesn't want to give up everything he is to pills or vapor or anything else.

"So if you couldn't use the money in your bank account, how did you pay for the drugs?" Ptonomy asks.

That brings David back to earth. "Um. We'd pawn stuff, or trade it. First the stuff Amy bought me, and then, um, things I took from Amy, from other people." He looks at her. "I'm really sorry."

"I know," Amy says, giving him a reassuring rub. "It's okay."

"I did a lot of work on all that with Doctor Kissinger," David admits. "I knew it was wrong, stealing from people. But if we didn't have money we couldn't get the drugs, and without the drugs--" He swallows.

"Farouk gave you a way out of your pain," Ptonomy says. "But it required you to hurt yourself and the people around you. I know you struggled with that."

David nods. "But, uh, the guilt-- Just made me need to escape myself more. It stopped being-- Just for the bad times. I was high all the time, that was the only way I could-- Stand being alive." And one day even that wasn't enough.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, gently. "Let's go back. Lenny, what do you remember about Benny's relationship with David?"

"It was definitely about the drugs," Lenny admits. "I mean, Benny wanted David to feel better. He liked David a lot, he cared about the kid. But he used David. He took David's shit, but he didn't use all that just for David's drugs. He paid himself first. He was just a low-level dealer and he was dipping into his own supply. He needed David to cover that, so he made sure to keep David happy."

"Really?" David asks, surprised.

"I'd apologize, but it wasn't actually me," Lenny says, apologetic anyway. "And I think the real story is probably worse."

David puts his face in his hands and whimpers. Even in his altered external reality, he had no idea what was going on.

"So you remember Benny's relationship with David as being more exploitative," Ptonomy says to Lenny. "Benny kept David high, and David being high made him vulnerable."

"Yeah," Lenny admits. "We-- Benny and David did drugs together a lot, and— When David was out of it, sometimes Benny went shopping. If David noticed something was missing, Benny told him he gave it to him to pay the costs. Benny made sure that David was too high to care, and David just got used to it." She's not pleased. "Benny was a dick."

"Yeah, I guess," David admits. But he still feels-- He's trying to separate Benny from Lenny, Lenny from Farouk, but-- Learning all of this is only making him more emotionally confused.

"Amy, what do you remember of David and Benny's relationship?" Ptonomy asks.

"When David first told me about Benny, he said he was a friend from college," Amy says. "I was happy that he was reconnecting with someone. I thought it would be good for him, he was very lonely. I didn't know how they really met, and when I found out about the drugs-- I tried everything I could to convince David to stay away from Benny. I even tried paying Benny off. But nothing worked."

"That must have been very frustrating," Ptonomy says.

"It drove me crazy," Amy admits. "I thought-- If David just focused on his therapy, if he could keep a steady job-- I needed him to be okay, for himself and-- For me." She looks at David, as apologetic as Lenny. "I'd taken care of you all my life. Watching you get worse-- Doctor Poole was supposed to help you, but he wasn't enough. I started looking for-- Somewhere you could stay."

"Even before I--" David starts. He always thought-- It was the suicide attempt that forced him into Clockworks.

"I didn't know how else to help you," Amy says, pained. "You wouldn’t stay away from Benny. And all those drugs-- I always worried that one day you'd take too much."

"I'm sorry," David says, even though he already apologized to Amy so many times in Clockworks. When he wasn't begging her to take him home. Kissinger was always going over all the things David did wrong, and being trapped in that place-- It felt like a punishment for how badly he'd ruined his life, ruined Amy's life. A punishment he deserved but was still desperate to escape. But isn't that his whole life? He was always being punished and desperate to escape it, even though he knew he deserved whatever he got.

"You never deserved any of this," Divad tells him. "I meant what I said before. I'm gonna keep forgiving you until you accept it. The only reason this happened was because we had a monster in our head. It's like Benny. Benny could have taken us to a hospital and let us get real help but he didn't. He kept us for himself. That's what Farouk's always done, he kept us for himself."

"That's exactly what he did," Ptonomy agrees. "And now that he's out of you, we're helping you take yourself back from him. You want that, right?"

"Right," David says, holding on to that. He wants to take himself back. He wants to be his own David.

"It's important to face what you did," Ptonomy says. "But what happened was not your choice. Acknowledge what happened, learn from it so you can avoid repeating those mistakes, and then let it go. Forgive yourself and allow yourself to move on. How about we give that a try now?"

"Now?" David asks, surprised.

"You forgave yourself for changing Syd's memories," Ptonomy says. "Try forgiving yourself for stealing from Amy."

David looks at Amy, uncertain.

"It's okay," Amy assures him. "I love you. I forgive you for everything that happened, just like you forgave me. I want you to forgive yourself."

David rubs his face, feeling a jumble of emotions. Forgiving himself for Syd, that was-- It just happened, he didn't even try to do it. He doesn't even know-- It was just-- Suddenly he felt--

He steadies himself with a breath.

He forgave himself for Syd because-- He acknowledged what happened. He was scared and confused and heartbroken and he was desperate to undo what Farouk had done to them. So he tried to undo it. But he knows now that-- He should have asked for help. He should have left Syd as she was and told someone what happened. And now that he's learned that, holding on to the guilt and pain of that moment-- He knows it won't help him. He has to let it go.

And Amy--

"I stole from you because-- The drugs were the only thing I had that helped me," David admits. "And maybe-- I was angry with you for not understanding that. But the drugs didn't help me the way I thought they did. I wish we both knew the truth, that-- We could have found the help I really needed. But we know now and I have that help and--" He can do this. "I forgive myself for stealing from you."

He tenses, still feeling like forgiving himself is wrong, but-- Amy pulls him into her arms.

"I love you," she says, and-- It's okay. He forgave himself and it's okay. He holds her back and feels-- A release. Just a small one, it's still-- Difficult to forgive himself for any of that. But it feels like-- It's actually okay to start letting go. He knows a better way to survive than just-- Trying to make himself go away. He doesn't want to go away.

"That was wonderful," Amy tells him, a smile in her voice. "I'm so proud of you, David."

David pulls back and wipes at his eyes. "Thanks," he says, shyly. He can't believe he did that. And it felt-- Good? It feels good.

"That was excellent, David," Ptonomy praises. "That was a big step. Let's take a break, and then we'll rip off the rest of that band-aid."

Chapter 105: Day 11: You can love someone and still do terrible things to them. (Divad)

Notes:

TW: discussion of rape

Chapter Text

Divad is not ready to talk about their relationship with Benny. He doesn’t see how he’ll ever be ready to talk about their relationship with Benny. And yet that's exactly what he has to do, for so many logical, rational reasons.

David might be upset about losing his rational mind to Divad, but knowing the right thing to do doesn't make doing it any easier.

"How are you holding up?" Ptonomy asks David, when their break is over.

"Okay," David says, but tiredly. 'I just want to lie down and not think about anything for a month.'

"Once we're done with Benny, you can rest," Ptonomy says. "You're doing great, David. Let's get you through the last stretch, okay?"

David nods and gives Amy's hand a grateful squeeze. 'I'm not facing any of this alone,' he thinks to himself.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, looking around at them. "We talked about how Benny and David first met, and then how they met again once David was back in the city. We heard what Lenny and David and Amy remembered about Benny and David's relationship. Divad, are you ready to tell us what you remember?"

No, Divad thinks, wishing he could be in their body with David right now, holding Amy's hand together, like they did when they were young. "Yes," he says, but falters anyway. He wishes Dvd was able to share this burden with him, like they always have. But it's Divad's turn to hold their system together.

"We'll take this one step at a time," Ptonomy assures him. "You told us that David fell in love with Benny. How did Benny feel about David?"

Ptonomy hasn't been asking the small questions today. Divad swallows, laces his fingers together. He doesn't look at David. It's easier to tell this to Ptonomy, somehow. "David and Lenny remember the drugs. And the drugs mattered a lot, but--" He stops, starts again. "It's pretty obvious by now that you can love someone and still do terrible things to them."

"So Benny wasn't just using me?" David asks, warily curious.

"Us," Divad corrects. "And no. I'm not defending what he did, we shouldn't have been with him at all, but-- He wasn’t just our drug buddy. He loved us, and— We loved him."

"Your system shares everything," Ptonomy says, understanding. "So you also shared David's feelings for Benny?"

"Yeah," Divad admits. "I mean, being together in our body-- We were used to David being in charge. It's how we always worked. We just-- Weren't in charge of David anymore. If we didn't want to lock ourselves in our bedroom forever, we had to accept what was happening to us."

"That must have been incredibly difficult for you and Dvd," Ptonomy says. "You knew what Benny did to your system and you didn't want to be with him. But you were."

It's such a massive understatement that Divad wants to laugh or cry or both. But he doesn't do anything.

David is horrified, of course. "Divad," he starts.

"You didn't know," Divad tells him. He absolutely does not want to hear David spiralling about this. "You didn't know what Benny did and you didn't know about us. Before you start apologizing, this is why I forgive you. I forgive you, okay? I know everything that happened and I forgive you."

'You shouldn't,' David thinks, stubbornly.

"Tough," Divad tells him. "I forgive you anyway."

"But you didn't forgive David back then," Ptonomy point out.

"No," Divad admits. "Look, I was furious and Dvd was a mess. But we still felt the feelings in our body, we heard David's thoughts in our head. No boundaries, remember? We were just parts of him, we didn't have our own lives."

"So how did you deal with that anger?" Ptonomy asks.

"I blamed David," Divad admits. That anger has only just started to go away. "I knew it was the monster's fault, but-- We couldn't stop the monster any more than we could stop Benny."

"Your system had no control," Ptonomy says, understanding. "But until Farouk took it away, you and Dvd had control over David."

"Yeah," Divad says, looking at David apologetically. "I said a lot of awful things to you. You couldn't hear them but I'm still sorry for saying them."

David gives a tired nod, obviously without the energy to go through his usual cycle of frustration about not remembering.

"Okay," says Ptonomy. "So as I understand it, Benny was effectively the first person your system was in a serious relationship with. Were you attracted to anyone before that?"

"Sure," Divad says. "But it wasn't safe to want things and it sure as hell wasn't safe to love anyone. We just-- Tried not to think about any of that. As long as David had Dvd, our system could take care of itself." It didn't matter that Divad was lonely, that he was left out. It didn't matter that there were people who liked them, who wanted them to like them back. None of it mattered.

“Benny and your system were together for a long time,” Ptonomy says. “Was it Benny or David who decided to keep the full nature of your relationship a secret?”

“David,” Divad says. “He was afraid Amy would be upset, she didn't even like Benny being our friend. And I guess, uh, if David was re-enacting what he had with us--"

"Secrecy was instinctive," Ptonomy agrees. "David couldn't risk telling anyone about you and Dvd, so he felt that telling people about his relationship with Benny was also dangerous. I expect the disapproval people had towards Benny only made that feeling stronger."

"Yeah," Divad says. "But we loved Benny and we needed the drugs Benny gave us." He hated that, hated how the drugs took away what little control they had. If David had only been able to hear him, if Divad hadn't lost control--

But their system never had control. If Farouk didn't want them to put that stuff in their body, there were plenty of ways he could have scared David away from Benny or the drugs. He could even have just made David forget about both of them the way he forgot so much. Farouk allowed them to fall in love with someone who would hurt them, to take refuge in drugs, and then he used those things to drive David into despair. And then he used that despair to put them into Clockworks, and used that place to torture them without worrying about another suicide attempt.

"God, it's all-- Really horrific," Divad realizes, just as David did earlier. Without shame or anger, seeing what happened to them clearly--

"It is horrific," Ptonomy agrees, as he did with David. "But Farouk is out of you and we're going to stop him."

Divad really hopes Ptonomy is right. Now that they're finally free and starting to heal-- The thought of Farouk getting control of them again is absolutely unbearable. Divad doesn't want to die, but he'd rather their system kill itself than live that way again. When David hung them it was awful, but--

"Let's stay focused on how to keep your system safe and happy," Ptonomy cautions. "Isn't that the more logical option?"

"Sorry," Divad says, glad David can't hear his thoughts right now. "You're right." If they killed themselves, Farouk would just snatch their soul like he did to Lenny, and then they'd be trapped in Farouk's body, which is even an even more horrifying thought. They have to get strong so they can fight back and win.

"So tell us more about your system's relationship with Benny," Ptonomy says. "Was the rest of it the same as Lenny and David remember?"

"The drugs were the same," Divad says, bracing himself again. "And the stealing. But everything else--" He looks at David, who's watching him in wary expectation, and Divad really doesn't want to keep going. But he has to. "Benny loved us, but his idea of love was--" What was the word Ptonomy used? "Exploitative."

David just gives a tired sigh. "He raped us?"

"Our relationship started when he tried to roofie us," Divad points out. "Part of why he loved us was because-- We gave him what he wanted. He literally drugged us and had sex with us. Even though we loved him, we wanted the drugs, we wanted him-- He wanted us most when we were too high to want anything."

"And I was just-- Okay with this?" David asks, strained.

"Farouk left you enough," Divad says. "You remember not caring when Benny stole from us. You remember believing that he knew what was best for us. It was the same with the sex. We needed someone to hurt us and Benny wanted someone to hurt."

"None of that is love," David says, angrily.

"We didn't know any better," Divad admits. "Ptonomy's right, what me and Dvd did to you, what the monster did to all of us-- And I know you're not ready to think about Syd, but the same thing happened with her. The same thing probably would have happened if we'd escaped with Lenny, she would've dragged us right back to the drugs."

"What about Philly?" David asks, with an edge of desperation. "I don't remember Philly hurting me. Us."

"We fought with Philly all the time," Divad says. "If anything we were mad at her for trying to stop us from self-destructing. She wanted us to get better, and better meant no Benny and no drugs." He looks at David's unhappy face and hates having made him unhappy. "We thought we didn't deserve to be happy because we were sick," he reminds David. "But we still wanted to be normal no matter how impossible it felt. So we tried to fake it, we tried to lie our way to a normal life. And every time it didn't work, that made us crash harder because it was proof that we would never be happy and we'd always be sick."

'That was exactly how I felt,' David thinks. 'Farouk left me all of that. But if I was with Benny--' "How did I even end up with Philly, if I was with Benny?" He thinks-- Was it Amy who set them up? He can't--

"It was Benny," Divad says, to David's surprise. "Look, he was a selfish, sadistic asshole, but he loved us. You and Benny both thought we were schizophrenic. Our 'symptoms' kept getting worse. Amy met Ben and things were serious, and we knew what Ben thought of us. We told Benny we were afraid of what would happen when Ben took Amy away, so-- He tried to find us another Amy."

"Oh," Amy says, softly. She looks ashamed. "Divad, I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know either," Divad tells her, tiredly. "No one knew anything, that's why we have to talk about this now." He sighs. "Philly was-- Some friend of a friend of a client, I don't know. But Benny set us up, said she would be good for us. He told us to try and make things work. And we did try, we tried to love her the way Philly and Benny and everyone wanted us to love her. But it was just like when you tried to force yourself to love me and Dvd. It wasn't real. And every time things went wrong, we ran right back to Benny."

'I wish all of that didn't make sense,' David thinks, miserably.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Thank you, Divad, I think that's enough for now. Unless there's anything else we need to know about those years?"

Divad feels like he's said more than enough. "No," he says, even though-- He feels so many things. Shame, regret, anger, longing, grief. Benny's dead now. Divad never wanted to see him again, but now that he's gone-- Benny tried to help them, in his fucked-up way. He was there for them when no one else was. If he wasn't an addict, maybe Benny would have been a half-decent human being. But the drugs were his monster and no one saved him from them. Even though there was nothing they could have done, Divad regrets that.

'I forgot how much-- Amy getting married--' David thinks, and looks at Amy, apologetic. "It was so many things. I felt so awful all the time. But-- Breaking up with Philly again-- Losing both her and you--" He swallows. "And then Doctor Poole--" He sniffs, wipes at their eyes.

"David," Amy says, holding him. "I'm so sorry I put you in that place."

"It's okay," David says, but he looks anything but okay. "Um. I guess-- Being with Benny didn't--" He takes a shaky breath. “He wasn’t enough?”

"We were-- You were in terrible shape that day," Divad says, his throat tight. "You thought about Benny, but-- You thought you were a burden on him, on Amy and Philly, on everyone. You thought-- If all you were ever going to be was sick, if you couldn't even stop yourself from hurting people-- Then the world was better off without you. You just wanted the pain to stop. It was-- Exactly what happened when we woke up in the cell, when you realized what you'd done, when-- You learned about us." Thinking about those days still breaks their heart. Having his system back made David want to die so much. Divad had to start numbing himself with his powers, it was the only way he could— Stand to be alive.

Just like David. Divad always set himself apart, convinced that he knew best, that all their failures were David’s fault. But they’re the same: in how they hurt themselves, in how they survive. There are things that are different, big things, but— They’ve always shared so much.

When he looks up, expecting to see David upset from discussing those awful days, instead he finds— David calm, with their hand over their heart. And then David looks up at Divad with a strange fascination.

“What?” Divad asks, self-conscious.

“You really have always been with me,” David says, amazed. “I don’t remember a lot of that. Which is nothing new, but— I remember more of those years with Benny than anything before that. And you know. The way I felt, things I didn’t even tell Doctor Poole or Kissinger— You know them better than I do and— You see them clearer. Because you’re my rational mind.”

“I wasn’t then,” Divad says, even though he’d already fused with plenty of other fragments.

“Whatever pieces of me you were then,” David says, amazed at what he’s saying. “You were really there.”

“Always,” Divad promises, feeling a sudden spark of hope. “We’re a system, your system.”

“That should be ‘our system,’ right?” David asks. “We’re both parts of our system. Together. And even if— That means we ended up sharing— Actual fragments of ourselves—“ He shakes his head, still disbelieving. “It’s okay because— It’s like Ptonomy said, about the pieces.”

“No matter how many pieces your system is in,” Ptonomy says. “No matter how those pieces are arranged, collectively you are still one system.”

“I felt so alone in Clockworks,” David says. “Those first days, I was so numb and everyone was gone— But you were there. You and Dvd were always there.”

“We were,” Divad agrees, glad it’s the truth. They never stopped hoping they would get him back, that they would break free of the monster’s control and save their system, and everything would finally be okay.

“Thank you,” David says, earnestly. "For staying with me." 'I wasn't alone. Even then-- I really wasn't doing any of that alone.'

It feels amazing to hear David think that, to hear him believe it. For a bad memory to transform into a good one. For one of the worst moments in their life to somehow become-- Something precious.

'I've always had Divad and Dvd,' David thinks, and the thought feels true and heartfelt.

"You have," Amy says, warmly. She gives him another squeeze, rewarding him.

"I've asked Kerry to bring Dvd down for his session," Ptonomy tells them. "David, are you ready to step out?"

David closes his eyes, focuses on himself to do his check-in. "I'm ready." He looks at Divad, focuses on him. Divad can't remember David ever focusing on him so intently before, wanting with be with him so much. Divad doesn't want him to stop.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "How about you two go up to the loft? Spend some time together."

'I'd like that,' David thinks, warmly. He's still looking at Divad as he thinks it. Divad's never felt so utterly seen.

David leans back, stills, and steps out of their body. He sighs with relief at leaving it behind, then looks at Divad again. Divad stands up, feeling drawn, and doesn't resist when David pulls him into a hug. Divad cautiously holds him back. It's so strange, all of this is so strange.

Kerry and Dvd descend, and Divad hopes-- Hearing all of that, seeing Divad and David healing their system-- But Dvd refuses to look at them. He walks past them and looks like it's all he can do not to break into tears again.

"Dvd," David says, turning to him, worried. But Dvd refuses to acknowledge him.

"C'mon," Divad says, taking David's hand. "They've got this."

David gives another worried look back, but he gives Divad's hand a grateful squeeze, just like he did with Amy. Divad doesn't want to waste this moment. He leads David up to the loft, and thinks how-- They're going to just keep each other company and talk and-- Get to know each other as they are now. Not as two remnants of a broken system, but-- As two people leaving behind their anger and shame to build a new, shared life together. And as much as he wants to be in the world and give back to it and be known-- He wants this even more.

Chapter 106: Day 11: We all need healthy touch to survive. (Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy closes his eyes and listens to David and Divad up in the loft, the two of them genuinely engaging with each other for the first time in-- A decade? Probably longer. Before David forgot his system, he was constantly being tortured or recovering from torture, Divad was denying his full reality, and Farouk had twisted their close bond into another kind of torture for both of them. None of that would make it easy for them to just sit together and relax.

What the two of them have endured, and Dvd, too-- In some ways, Ptonomy understands why Farouk can't let them go. It's fascinating how David's system has survived all of this, the sheer flexibility that's allowed such extreme mental contortions. Farouk pulled David apart, over and over, while David's system tried to pull itself back together, and the result is a tangled knot of identity and experience and memory, far beyond even the worst that DID systems have been known to endure.

As Divad himself admitted, other systems at least have the safety of their own heads. The Davids never had that. Farouk seems to have used their ability to fragment and fuse as a sculpting tool: carving pieces from one identity and merging them into the others. If Ptonomy had to guess how Farouk managed to make David stronger-- The obvious answer is that he simply reversed the process, tortured Divad and Dvd so that the only safe place for their fleeing fragments to go was back to David.

There's no way to confirm that short of asking Farouk directly. It's obvious that Divad and Dvd have both forgotten a lot, and as Farouk boldly told Syd, they don't know what they've forgotten. The Davids have survived largely through brute force acceptance of whatever horror they were enduring. And Ptonomy is using that same acceptance now to push them to heal.

He wonders if it would be possible to fragment off some of Dvd and Divad's mental shielding and have those fragments go into David. That would help tremendously in giving their system healthy boundaries, but to actually implement it would be-- Torture. A monstrous kind of surgery, no anesthetic possible. Exactly what Farouk did countless times over. The accelerated therapy they're putting the Davids through is already pushing ethical boundaries. Division 3 might not care, not if it helps save the world, and yet--

To know your enemy, you must become your enemy. That's another lesson from Sun Tzu that Ptonomy's held close to his heart. It's why he's never been afraid to make the hard choices. But dying helped him see that there's more to victory than winning. Hard choices helped turn Summerland into a mirror of Division 3, and now he feels the pull to turn himself into a mirror of Farouk. How much of Ptonomy's own choices have been a brute force acceptance of the world he found himself in? It's the kind of question that would keep him up at night if he was actually able to sleep.

He really misses sleep.

As it is, the biggest question is how much he'll be able to do before he's too sick to help anymore. It isn't only the Davids who are being pushed to their limit. Ptonomy's never worked so hard in his life, studying and researching every moment he isn't in some kind of session, pulling on all the mainframe's resources and the Admiral's statistical models to revise their plan again and again, because despite everything they've learned they're still playing catch-up, and with the amnesia all the Davids suffer from, they might never know the full truth.

It's exhausting work, even without a body that can tire, and Ptonomy can feel the urge to just-- Make the hard choices, the choices he would have made before he died, back when he still confused inhumanity for dispassion.

That's not what Melanie would have wanted, the old Melanie. For all her mistakes, she had faith in the power of healing. She believed in the dream of a better world, not made with brutality but compassion. Her compassion saved all of them at one point or another. If they're going to save the world, build a new future, a new Summerland like Cary wants and all of them need-- It needs a foundation of compassion or it won't be anything but another Division 3, another Farouk. And the world has too much Farouk in it already.

Ptonomy opens his eyes and engages with his environment. Dvd was in no condition for any kind of talk therapy even before he stepped into his system's exhausted body, so they wrapped him in a blanket and sandwiched him between Amy and Kerry on the sofa. He's stubbornly resistant to any kind of verbal comfort, but he's as unable to refuse physical comfort as David and Divad. That's another way the Davids survived: simple human touch.

Ptonomy's in need of some touch himself. He took a break earlier to be with his family so he could use touch to restore his mental strength, and with the way he's flagging now, he doesn't see how he's going to help Dvd without another treatment of his own.

'Amy,' he says over the mainframe connection, getting her attention. 'I think-- I'm going to have to leave again.'

'Getting tired?' Amy asks. 'It's been a long day for all of us.'

They both look at Lenny. In the aftermath of the Benny session-- It's clear all of that hit her hard. It hit Syd hard, too, even though she's doing her best to hide it and is distracting herself with her sketching.

'Maybe we should do something as a group,' Amy offers. 'We're all supposed to be modelling, remember? You shouldn't leave when you need help, you should reach out.'

'I know,' Ptonomy sighs. 'But I'm the therapist.'

'You can help them and be their friend,' Amy chides gently. 'Isn't that what you told Lenny?'

'You're really enjoying throwing my advice back at me,' Ptonomy says, wryly.

Amy laughs over the mainframe, though her android's face doesn't show it. 'Someone has to keep you on your toes.'

'Believe me, I'm practically en pointe,' Ptonomy sighs. But he knows she's right. They can't start rebuilding the rocket lamp with Dvd in the state he's in, so if they want to get to that today, they need to find another way to help Dvd and everyone else. 'So what do you suggest?'

'It needs to be something we can all do together,' Amy says, thinking aloud. 'Something therapeutic, relaxing, bonding.' She glances at Syd, at Lenny. 'How about a group massage?'

'That's going to be tricky,' Ptonomy points out. They have two people who are disembodied mental projections, one who can only be touched by androids, and one who doesn't want to be touched at all.

But Amy seems confident. 'Let me handle this session. It's your turn to be a patient, too.'

'Then you're the therapist,' Ptonomy says. 'So how do we handle this?'

"Lenny," Amy says, turning to her. "Can you go get David and Divad? We're going to do something together."

Lenny does not seem enthused. "Shouldn't we, like, let them get snuggly?"

"This will help them bond, too," Amy says. "It'll be good for all of us."

Lenny gives Amy a very skeptical look. "Fine," she sighs, and hauls herself up.

"We'll use the beds," Amy says. "Oliver, can you and Ptonomy get them ready?"

"Of course," Oliver says, and heads over to the sleeping area. Ptonomy stands to help him. After all that sitting and talking, it does feel good to move around.

"Dvd, sweetie," Amy says, gently. "I know you're feeling awful right now. But we're all going to do something together so we can feel better, okay?"

Dvd gives her a mournful look. "People stuff isn't for me."

"Well, it doesn't matter what you think you are, you're getting it anyway," Amy says, with sisterly sternness. "C'mon."

Dvd pulls into the blanket with childish stubbornness. "Leave me alone," he whines. 'It's bad enough I have to be in our stupid body. I hate everything.'

"This will make your system's body feel better," Amy tells him. "It will help you feel-- Less alone in your body."

Dvd gives her a suspicious but curious look. "How?"

Amy doesn't answer him, she just stands up and walks over to the beds. Dvd scowls at her and then follows her. All of the Davids are suckers for curiosity. If there's something they want to know, sometimes that's enough to get them moving again.

Kerry follows after Dvd, also curious. She's holding up well without Cary, but she's been staying close to them ever since he went inside her. She reminds Ptonomy of a niece of his, back when she was a toddler. She was very attached to her parents, always looking back to them to make sure they were watching her. And if they weren't, she would find the closest safe person to attach herself to. Sometimes Ptonomy's leg was what she would grab on to, even though he was her grumpy uncle. Though he was never grumpy with her.

It's been years since he saw her. She must be all grown up now. Now that he's actually speaking to his family again-- He wonders if she even remembers him. She was still so young when he left everyone behind, when he accepted the danger in his life as something-- Inevitable. Necessary. Worth more to him than the people he loved, even though he claimed love was why he had to leave them. There was some truth to it, being a mutant was and is dangerous, but all of that was just a story he told himself. He doesn't want to be part of that story anymore.

Syd closes her notebook and follows Kerry over, and then Lenny descends, presumably with Divad and David trailing behind her.

"Is everybody here?" Amy asks.

"We're here," Divad says, from the space between Lenny and Amy.

"What's going on?" David asks. He's beside Divad.

"We've all done a lot of hard work today, so we're going to do something that will help everyone feel better," Amy tells him. "We're all going to give each other massages."

"Uh, no thanks," Lenny says, of course.

'It'll be fine,' Amy tells Lenny, letting Ptonomy hear her, too. 'Model for the Davids, remember? And for Syd.'

'God, I hate you,' Lenny grumbles. "Great. I can't wait," she says, flatly, and crosses her arms.

"Massages?" Dvd asks, dubious.

"We're all going to pair up," Amy tells them. "Divad and David, obviously you two will be together. You can take your bed at the end."

"Okay," David says, and Ptonomy hears him moving towards their bed.

"Ptonomy and Kerry, you take the next bed," Amy says. "Dvd, you're with Oliver in the next. And Lenny and Syd, you're together."

"Excuse me?" Syd says, displeased.

"Yeah, no thanks," Lenny says. "You're not paired up, you take her."

"I'll be helping everyone," Amy tells her. "Now go on." She shoos them over. 'Ptonomy, a little modelling help?'

'Got it,' Ptonomy says. He goes to his assigned bed and lies down on his front. Kerry comes and stands next to him, uncertain but eager.

"You go first," Divad tells David. "You're exhausted."

"You had to dig up all that Benny stuff," David protests.

"So did you. Look, I want to take care of you," Divad tells him, a little shyly. "I have a lot to make up for, so just-- Let me start making up for it, okay?"

"It wasn't your fault either," David tells him, quietly. "And we both have a lot to make up for."

"Yeah," Divad sighs. "But you're still going first."

"Okay, okay," David relents with a huff.

Dvd's watching them, and once David lies down, he reluctantly does the same, obviously not wanting to be left out even when he's refusing to talk to David and Divad.

"It'll be okay," Amy tells Dvd, with a soothing stroke on his shoulder. "But I have to take the blanket so Oliver can help your system's body. Okay?"

Dvd pouts again, but he lets her take it. Amy folds it and sets it aside. Three down, one to go.

Syd and Lenny are mirrors of each other, arms crossed defensively, jaws set and eyes narrowed. Their mutual hostility would almost be impressive if it wasn't so childish and the stakes weren't so high.

"Syd," Amy says, and takes Syd's hand. She takes Lenny's hand. Both of them resist as Amy brings them together, but Amy turns Syd's hand palm down so Lenny won't be touched back. They both tense as their hands touch.

"See?" Amy says to Syd. "Lenny can touch you just like I can. No needles."

"I don't get needles," Lenny says, defensive.

"No, but you both have haphephobia," Amy says, in the same sisterly tone she uses on the Davids. "Syd, you've done a lot of work on your haphephobia. Lenny could really use your help with hers." When Syd remains reluctant, Amy puts on a concerned face. "You know what Lenny's been through. She never had anyone to help her. She didn't have someone like Melanie."

That puts a crack in Syd's armor. 'Clockworks,' she thinks. "I guess-- If I can help--" she offers.

"Don't do me any favors," Lenny mutters. She glances past Amy and sees everyone watching them. 'Fuck. I hate this, why are you doing this to me?' she asks Amy through the mainframe.

'Because you need it,' Amy tells her. 'If you want to help stop Farouk so we can get our real bodies, you need to work on your fear of touch.'

'Fine, but I don't need it from Syd,' Lenny mutters. 'I can just baby-monkey you, problem solved.'

'No,' Amy says, gently but firmly. 'You need to acclimate yourself to touch, just like Syd did with Matilda. Unless you'd rather work with the cat?'

"Are you guys having a conversation?" Syd asks, looking between them.

"Yes, I'm sorry," Amy says. "That was rude. I was just telling Lenny how Matilda helped you acclimate yourself to touch."

"I bet you just coasted right through," Lenny mutters, even though all of them have watched the footage of Syd's therapy.

"No, it was awful," Syd admits. "I hated it. But I--" She glances at Dvd, then back to Lenny. 'I did it for David,' she thinks. "I needed to do it," she says aloud. "I didn't want-- To be controlled by my fear.”

"I'm not afraid," Lenny says, defensive.

"Then what's the problem?" Syd challenges. "You're the one who molested Kerry, and you think I should be happy about you touching me?"

"Uh, I already had a taste of that, thanks," Lenny smirks, giving Syd a full-body leer.

'Disgusting,' Syd thinks, recoiling. She pulls her hand free of Amy's grip, and then Amy lets go of Lenny.

"Hey, I was just along for the ride," Lenny defends. "Farouk's the one that raped both of us, you think I wanted your straight ass? I mean, maybe for a hot second, but--"

'This is not happening,' David thinks, audibly disturbed.

"Could you guys maybe not?" Divad says, annoyed.

"Sorry," Lenny says, backing down.

"Syd," Amy says, firmly. "I don't think now is the time to talk about those things. And you've made your own mistakes with consent."

'David,' Syd thinks, immediately regretful.

"We’ve all made mistakes," Amy continues. "But we're all trying to be better. Lenny deserves the same chance we all do." She turns to Lenny. "And Lenny, you are afraid. And that's okay. We're all afraid, and we're trusting each other so we can get through this together. You need to try to trust Syd so the two of you can help each other." She turns back to Syd. "And that goes for you, too."

Lenny looks annoyed but resigned. "She is such a mom," she tells Syd.

Syd gives a surprised laugh, then covers her mouth. "Sorry."

"Yes, well," Amy says, sheepish. "I did have to take care of three traumatized brothers." She reasserts herself. "After that you two are a breeze."

"I bet no one's ever called you easy before," Lenny jokes to Syd.

"No," Syd admits, mildly amused. Then she closes her eyes. 'I can't survive alone. I can accept help. I can give and receive love. Trust my friends.' She takes a deep breath and opens her eyes again. "I'm sorry. I want us to be able to help each other. Can we try again?"

Lenny looks skeptical. She glances at Amy again, and Amy gives her an encouraging look. "Fine," Lenny sighs, begrudgingly.

"Thank you, Lenny, Syd," Amy says, pleased. "Syd, would you mind going first? I'm sure Lenny will be on her best behavior."

Syd seems to enjoy being the one on the high road. "Of course," she says, and goes to lie down on the bed next to Dvd and Oliver's. She gives Dvd a small smile, but Dvd turns away from her. It's clear he's not ready to talk to Syd yet.

Baby steps, Ptonomy thinks. They're getting there.

He turns on his side and looks up at Kerry. “You okay?”

“Um, I guess,” Kerry says, but she looks uncomfortable. Ptonomy realizes that Amy made a smart choice in putting a buffer between Lenny and Kerry.

“It’s okay if you’re upset,” Ptonomy reminds her. “David, are you okay?”

“No,” David sighs, his voice muffled as though he has his face against his pillow. ‘Why did they have to bring all that up?’

“Is David okay?” Syd asks, concerned.

“He and Kerry both need a moment,” Amy tells her. “You two wait here.” She walks over to Kerry. “Hey,” she starts, and before she can say anything else, Kerry hugs her tightly.

“You’re okay,” Amy soothes, holding her. She strokes Kerry’s hair. “It’s all right.”

“Divad,” David says, softly, and it’s not clear what the two of them are doing, but Dvd is watching with obvious longing. Maybe Divad is mirroring Amy, maybe they’re just holding hands. What matters is that Divad is offering David comfort, and David is accepting it.

There’s a term in biology and psychology: beneficial stress, or eustress. Too much is obviously toxic, but some stress can be good, even necessary. Part of therapy is learning how to turn distress into eustress with healthy coping mechanisms. Kerry and David accepting comfort, Divad giving it— Those are more baby steps, even small strides, all in the right direction. Today’s been hard work, but it’s paying off.

Amy lets Kerry end the hug when she’s ready. The brief comfort seems to have been enough, reviving her determination.

“David?” Amy calls, walking over to their bed. “Divad?”

“We’re okay,” David says, sounding better.

“Yeah,” Divad agrees. ‘But can we please not push it?’ The thought is clearly intended for the relay, for everyone but David and Dvd and Syd.

Amy gives an acknowledging nod and then moves on. "Who here has experience with massages?" she asks everyone.

Ptonomy raises his hand, and then Kerry raises hers. "I do massages when I'm training," she offers. "Physical therapy stuff."

"I've done some kinda massage, but not the therapy kind," Lenny smirks. Ptonomy's not surprised in the least, but then the massages he did were with his girlfriends, too.

"Oliver, Melanie sometimes mentioned missing your massage," Ptonomy says. It was always late at night, when she was tired and her neck and shoulders were stiff. When she allowed herself to feel how much she missed him. "She said you were very good."

"Then I'm sure it'll come back to me," Oliver says, pleased.

"You've got the expert, Dvd," Amy tells Dvd.

"I'm thrilled," Dvd mutters.

"I know any touch at all can be difficult for some of us, but we all need healthy touch to survive," Amy tells them. "We're going to start with simple back and shoulder massages. That's where most of us carry our stress. It's also a fairly neutral area with low sensory receptors. Our clothes will also help us feel protected."

"Looks like Amy's the real expert," Lenny says, reluctantly impressed.

"I've been learning a lot," Amy admits. "So let's get started. Massagers, stand next to your partner's upper body. Let's start with a simple touch, so you and your partner can get used to the feeling."

Kerry puts a confident hand on Ptonomy's back, and Oliver does the same to Dvd. Ptonomy can't see what Divad is doing, but hears no complaints.

Lenny hesitates, her hand hovering over Syd's back, and then she puts it down. Syd stiffens with a sharp breath, and Lenny looks to Amy, uncertain, but Amy motions for her to stay put.

'No needles,' Syd thinks, in relief and reassurance. 'It's like Amy and Ptonomy. I need to let Lenny help me. It's okay.' Her tension eases.

'This is weird,' Dvd thinks. But he isn't pulling away from Oliver's hand.

"Everyone okay?" Amy asks them. She waits for their assent, then continues. "Great. Massagers, just stroke your partner's upper back, along their spine and shoulders. Slow and easy."

Everyone complies.

'This is kinda nice,' David thinks. He sounds like he's relaxing.

Ptonomy's android body doesn't have muscles that need massaging, but his artificial skin carries the sensation well enough. And he's certainly carrying plenty of mental tension that needs working out.

Amy checks on Syd. "If something upsets you, just say stop, okay?" she tells her. "This is meant to help you feel better, not worse."

"I'm okay," Syd says. "It's just-- New." 'I don't know if I'll ever get used to this.'

"Lenny's going to take things very slow," Amy promises. "And remember, she'll need your help to be able to accept your touch. Be honest with each other. You two understand each other better than you think."

'She understands how much she hates me,' Syd thinks.

Out of Syd's view, Lenny rolls her eyes. 'I don't hate her, I just hate how she thinks she's better than everyone.'

'You think you're better than everyone, too,' Amy points out.

'Yeah, but I actually am,' Lenny retorts. When Amy just looks at her, Lenny rolls her eyes again. 'Fine, I get it. Go hover over someone else.'

Amy does, moving on to Dvd. "Dvd, how are you feeling?"

"Okay," Dvd says, non-committal.

"It's just like I said to Syd," Amy tells him. "If anything upsets you, say stop."

"Stop," Dvd says.

Oliver takes his hand away.

"That was very good," Amy praises. "Now tell me what's wrong."

"You said I'd feel better," Dvd says, stubbornly. "I don't."

"Well, we're just getting started," Amy says, reasonably.

"David feels better," Dvd says, like a child demanding fairness. Which is basically what he is, having had so little socialization outside of his system.

Amy gives him a thoughtful look. "David isn't the one in your system's body. You are. So it's easier for him to feel better quickly. The massage will make your body feel better so it will be easier for you to feel better."

"What if it doesn't?" Dvd presses.

"Then we'll find something else that will help," Amy promises. "But I'm sure it will help if you give it the chance. People all over the world use massage to feel better."

"I'm not a person," Dvd says, stubbornly.

"But you do have a body," Amy says, patiently. "And if you take care of your body, if you help it feel better, it will help you feel better. You know that, it's how you and Divad have helped David."

Dvd considers this. 'I guess that makes sense.'

"Is it okay for Oliver to start again?" Amy asks.

"Fine," Dvd sighs, still reluctant. But when Oliver strokes his back, he seems more at ease.

"Ptonomy, how about you?" Amy asks.

"Good so far," Ptonomy says. "But I think our android bodies are going to need something different than the standard technique."

"We'll get to that for you and Lenny," Amy assures him. 'Thanks, that was helpful,' she tells him over the mainframe.

'You're doing great,' Ptonomy tells her. She really has learned a lot, and not just about massage.

Amy moves to the last bed. "David, Divad? How's it going?"

"It's nice," David says. "Soothing."

Ptonomy isn't surprised he's taken to this so well already. He's the most tactile of all of them, and he's very used to touch, even if it's new that it's from Divad. The Benny session did a lot to break down the wall between the two of them, which was a surprising but welcome outcome.

"I like it, too," Divad says. 'It's really nice to just-- Touch him, make him feel good. It's like-- The exact opposite of all that screwed-up advice.'

"You're both doing really well," Amy praises. She turns back to the group. "Okay, so now we're going to start the actual massage. Kerry, as Ptonomy pointed out, you can't really give his android body a traditional massage. Syd, you'll have the same problem with Lenny, so pick up what you can."

"Okay," Syd says.

"Ptonomy, can I demonstrate on you?" Amy asks.

"Go ahead," Ptonomy says.

Kerry steps back and Amy takes her place, putting her hands on Ptonomy's shoulders. "Lenny, Oliver, Divad -- Put your hands on your partner's shoulders, like this. A light pressure to start, and then knead. Slow, even strokes. Feel for the muscles and avoid the bones."

Amy demonstrates as everyone copies her.

"Ow," Syd says, wincing. "Not so hard."

"You don't have muscles, you have steel cables," Lenny complains. "No wonder you're so uptight, have you ever relaxed?"

"No," Syd says, perversely proud.

"See, now that sounds like a challenge," Lenny says, smirking.

"Hm, this does feel familiar," Oliver says, thoughtful. He adjusts his grip and Dvd chokes out a moan.

"Dvd?" Amy calls, concerned. "Should Oliver stop?"

"No," Dvd says, hurriedly. Then he hides his face, embarrassed.

"Harder?" David sighs. 'Oh, that's the spot-- No, right there--'

Divad chuckles, fondly amused. 'I gotta get Oliver to teach me whatever he's doing.'

"Very good," Amy tells everyone. "Divad, watch Oliver and Lenny and follow their lead. They both know what they're doing." She steps away from Ptonomy.

"What should I do?" Kerry asks.

Amy considers that. "You've done physical therapy massages that increase circulation?"

Kerry nods.

"Let's give that a try," Amy says. "Shallow kneading, circular rubbing. We don't have muscles so what's important is to stimulate our artificial nerves. And if it's okay with Ptonomy, you can do his arms and legs, too."

"I'm good with that," Ptonomy assures them. And then Kerry gets to work, and Ptonomy finds it hard to focus on anything else. It's a little strange, not feeling the deep muscle release a normal massage would give, but Kerry's hands are strong and she clearly enjoys the challenge. Ptonomy lets himself be the patient and actually relaxes, relieved that he can trust Amy to handle the others.

This was definitely what he needed. He directs Kerry as necessary, but mostly he lets himself be loosened up, and a gentle euphoria suffuses him. He idly notices the thoughts drifting through the relay, mostly David and Dvd thinking slurred thoughts about how good they feel, with the occasional interruption of a sore spot. Syd in the other hand—

"Will you relax already?" Lenny complains. "I'm not gonna hurt you, geez."

"I know," Syd says. 'I'm trying, I just--'

"Just another minute, and then we'll switch," Amy warns them.

'Noooo,' Dvd whines, to Ptonomy's amusement. 'I'm just starting to feel better.'

"You can always ask your partner to massage you again," Amy tells them. "Or anyone else. But it's time to return the favor."

'I don't think I can move,' David thinks, his thoughts pleasantly slurred.

"Take a few minutes to recover," Amy suggests. "Sit up when you're ready."

Ptonomy sits up and gives his body a great stretch. "I needed that," he sighs. "Kerry, that was really good, thank you."

Kerry perks up at the praise. "It was fun! I kinda like all this physical therapy stuff, it's like-- Punching the pain out of people instead of into them."

"I guess it is," Ptonomy says, amused.

When everyone's switched positions, Amy looks them over like a general inspecting her troops. "We're going to do the same as before, and it should be simple now that everyone's had some practice. David, Ptonomy, Dvd-- If you need any help, the best person to ask is your partner. Let them direct you like you directed them. Syd, I'll come help you with Lenny."

"Um, okay," Dvd says, uncertain as he looks down at Oliver.

"You'll be fine," Oliver promises. "Just copy what I did to you."

"I don't know what you did," Dvd says, but haltingly tries anyway. 'This is weird.'

'This is great,' David thinks, sounding calm and happy. 'I feel so much better. And Divad will feel better, and Dvd-- And we can all just relax.'

'Ever the optimist,' Divad thinks, in reaction to David's thoughts. But he sounds hopeful himself.

Ptonomy starts kneading at Kerry's back.

"Harder," she tells him. "My muscles are really strong."

"I've got an android body," Ptonomy replies. "I think I can handle it."

"How are you two doing?" Amy asks Lenny and Syd.

"Good," Syd says. 'I'm glad that's over.'

Lenny's eyes narrow at Syd's thought, but she doesn't reply.

"Great," Amy says. "I know everyone else is rushing ahead, but let's go back to the basics. Remember, she hasn't done much work on her haphephobia yet. So we need to take this very slow."

"Right," Syd says, sobering.

"Lenny and I tried different kinds of touch earlier today," Amy says. "Based on that, we'll need to stay very clear of any intimate areas. She tolerated leg-to-leg touch, but she's only really been able to accept touch where she's in control."

"That's why she's been hugging you?" Syd asks.

"Exactly," Amy says. "I know your challenges aren't quite the same as hers, but I really think you're the best person to help her."

"You know it's not just about exposure therapy, right?" Syd asks.

"We know," Amy says. "We saw your sessions with Melanie."

Syd blanches, but nods.

"Right now what's important is helping Lenny stay herself," Amy reminds her. "You had a year to get as far as you have. We have to focus on short-term solutions."

"I'm right here, y'know," Lenny says, annoyed.

"We know," Amy says, fondly. "How about we start with the same thing as everyone else? Just a simple touch on your back?"

"Whatever," Lenny says, but when Syd touches her she almost jumps off the bed. "Fuck!"

"It's okay," Amy soothes. She offers her arm and Lenny grabs onto it.

"I'm not afraid," Lenny grinds out.

"It's okay if you are," Amy assures her. "Syd?"

"I was afraid, too," Syd tells Lenny. "It wasn't just the needles. It was--" She folds her arms, not quite wrapping them around herself. "I had to learn to separate-- The trauma I experienced from-- The sensations in the present. It's like David's untangling thing. You have to untangle what you're feeling from what you're remembering."

'That sounds like-- Do I have haphephobia too?' David wonders. 'Maybe sharing my body is like-- A kind of touch.'

Ptonomy is tempted to encourage David to follow that train of thought, but he knows it would be too much after the day they've had. Right now they need to calm the Davids down, bring them back together. For now he flags it and sends it to David's file.

'Internal haphephobia,' Divad thinks, considering. 'Maybe Syd can help us like she's helping Lenny.'

Ptonomy flags that too, and smiles to himself as he works a knot out of Kerry's muscles. The Admiral's models have helped a lot, but the real world is always full of surprises. Strangely, that's the one thing that gives him the most hope for their success. That's one way he's different from Farouk. He doesn't need to control everything to get what he wants. The more everyone is able to help themselves and each other, the better their odds.

"I don't have time for all that," Lenny complains.

"No," Syd accepts. "But unless you want your fear to control you for the rest of your life, however long that is-- You need to start. At least you don't have to deal with needles under your skin, right?"

Lenny gives a long-suffering sigh and sits up. "Fine. But this massage stuff isn't working for me."

"Okay. How about we try another round of what we did before?" Amy suggests. "You're feeling better now than you were this morning. You and Syd can experiment with different kinds of touch. "

"I had to lock myself in my room with Matilda," Syd admits. "It was the only way I could force myself to start. And it was still--" She grimaces. "It's not going to be easy. But the more you practice, the easier it gets."

"You sound like Ptonomy," Lenny mutters.

"Actually, I sound like Melanie," Syd says. "She taught both of us." 'I wish she was here now. Will we ever get her back?'

"What, did she have haphephobia too?" Lenny mocks.

"No," Syd says, amused. "So are we going to give it a try?"

"Like I have a choice," Lenny mutters.

Syd sits down beside her. "You're okay with hugging Amy, right? And you didn't have any trouble giving me my massage. So it's not all touch that triggers you."

"No," Lenny admits. "It's fine if I'm the one in charge."

"So put yourself in charge of being touched," Syd suggests. She holds out her hand, palm down. "Touch a part of your body to my hand."

Lenny gives Syd's hand a wary look, but raises her arm. She braces herself, then touches her forearm to Syd's palm. She pulls back like she's burned, but Syd keeps her hand steady, patient. It must have taken a lot of patience for her to do all that work on her own haphephobia. Syd's not the type who gives up easy.

Lenny tries again, again. It's clear it's uncomfortable for her, but each time she holds her arm against Syd's palm a little longer.

"I hate this," Lenny mutters.

"You're doing great," Syd encourages. "You know, um, if you want, sometime-- You can give Amy a break and hug me."

Lenny gives her a doubtful look.

"It would be good for me, too," Syd admits. "I did a lot of work with Matilda, but-- Honestly, now that there's people I can comfortably touch-- Not having the needles in the way made me realize I still have a lot of work to do. The massage-- It was hard for me to relax," she admits.

"No shit," Lenny says.

Syd ignores that, continuing. "And I, uh-- Freaked out this morning, when Amy touched me."

Lenny sends a request to the mainframe, and Ptonomy watches the surveillance video clip it returns: Amy caressing Syd's arm, and Syd freezing up with panic.

"So what made you freak out?" Lenny asks.

Syd glances at Dvd. "I don't think now's a good time to talk about that. But, um-- Maybe we should. Talk about it."

"You wanna share therapy?" Lenny asks, eyebrows high.

"I think we both need it," Syd admits. "And if we're both going to be in David's life, then we need to be friends. Maybe helping each other-- Will help us do that."

Lenny gives Syd a very considering look. "Maybe you're not such a white after all. I could see you in yellow."

'Is that a compliment?' Syd wonders. 'I guess it is to her.' "Thanks," she says.

Baby steps and small strides, Ptonomy thinks.

Chapter 107: Day 11: Headmates. I like that. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

When Dvd reluctantly stepped into their body, he braced himself for the worst: more painful therapy sessions, more lectures, more dredging up of everything Dvd has absolutely no desire to think about ever again. It was all going to be miserable and Dvd resigned himself to enduring it like he's endured every miserable moment of their life. It didn't matter because he wasn’t going to exist anymore soon anyway.

But there's no sign of any of the things he's braced himself for. Instead it's just been-- People being inexplicably nice to him, to a fragment that shouldn't even exist. It's stupid that they're doing it, they're obviously wasting their time. But being held by Kerry and Amy, massaged by Oliver-- They made his system's-- No, David's body feel better, and the least Dvd can do is let David's body be cared for so it won't make him feel bad when he gets it back.

When the massages are done, there's a quick detour to the cafeteria to pick up drinks and snacks, and then Dvd is brought up to the garden with everyone for some fresh air and afternoon sunshine.

Lenny wanted to eat Twizzlers, so Dvd watches Lenny and Ptonomy and Amy all share Twizzlers together. It's still weird watching them chew in sync, but there's something familiar about it, and Dvd realizes it's an outside version of how their system used to work, how they ate together and shared everything together-- And his longing is like a stab in the gut.

They're never going to share again. One of the only good things in their whole life was torture. Dvd's love for David was torture, too, and that was the only other good thing. Or he thought it was, but that was just another one of the monster's tricks. Of course it was.

Divad was right. David shouldn't have loved anyone, not even them. But Divad's ignoring his own incessant warnings now, strolling around the roof with David, hand-in-hand. It's like how they used to stroll around Clockworks with Syd. Well, with Syd they needed to hold a scarf, but--

Whatever. Dvd takes a bite of his own Twizzlers and tries matching Lenny and Amy and Ptonomy. It kind of makes him feel better, but then it makes him feel worse. He gets up and walks away, figuring if David and Divad can be alone, so can he. Maybe David's right and as long as he's not sitting down, he doesn't have to be with anyone.

He's wrong. He notices Kerry and and Syd whispering to each other, and then they both join him at the railing.

"Hey," Kerry says, and holds out her Twizzlers. "You want mine? They're too chewy." She scrunching up her nose. She wiggles the candy at him, and Dvd takes it just to make her stop. Kerry smiles, pleased with herself.

Dvd hears David thinking happy thoughts about Divad, and it makes Dvd want to throw the Twizzlers at Divad's head. Too bad they'd go right through.

"Dvd?" Syd says. "Is something wrong?"

Everything is wrong. "No," he says, stubbornly. "Leave me alone."

"Sorry, you know the rules," Kerry says, but she's obviously not sorry at all. "Hey, I was thinking about that autobiography."

"Did you two finish it?" Syd asks.

"No, we had to go slow so I could write down my questions," Kerry says. "The system in the book is really different from mine or the Davids. And a lot of it's really sad. But we got to the part where the system members finally started talking to each other. They were scared of each other at first, but then they realized they could be friends."

"That sounds nice," Syd says. "I'd like to read it when you're done."

"Sure," Kerry says. "I was thinking about how the Davids don't want to be brothers anymore. But members is kind of--" she trails off. “I dunno. But I'm not gonna call Cary my member, that sounds weird. So if we’re a system, we need a better word."

"You could be twins?" Syd offers. "That would fit the Davids, too."

"But we’re not twins," Kerry says. "Well, probably. But if we're not-- I want a word that tells people right away that we're a system. I don't want to hide what we are. If that's what we are. We shouldn't have to hide that we're mutants and we shouldn't have to hide that we're a system."

Kerry gives Dvd a look that clearly means she expects his approval. It's the same look she gives Cary all the time.

"I guess," Dvd says, unable to deny her.

"So do you have any ideas?" Syd asks.

"There was something in the book," Kerry says. "Headmates. I like that one."

"Headmates," Syd tries, considering it. "That is good. It's neutral but not impersonal."

"Cary's my headmate," Kerry tries, and beams. "I bet he'll like that." Her smiles fades. "I hope he wakes up soon." She puts her hand over her belly.

"Still fast asleep?" Syd asks.

"Yeah, he's been really quiet," Kerry says. "Oliver keeps checking on him for me, and he says I shouldn't worry. I used to nap inside of Cary all the time, so I guess this was what it was like for him." She rubs her belly in a soothing circle. "He must have been lonely when I did that."

"He had friends to keep him company," Syd says. "He had Oliver and Melanie."

"Yeah, but-- I don't think that was enough," Kerry admits. She looks pensive.

"Dvd, what do you think about headmates for your system?" Syd asks.

Dvd hates how much he likes it. He hates that it's something they could have had and now it's too late. "I guess it's okay."

"We'll run it by David and Divad," Syd says, pleased. "Where are they now?"

Dvd looks. David and Divad aren't walking anymore, they're at the other end of the roof, sitting together and quietly talking. Dvd can't hear what they're saying -- they're stretched pretty far -- but he can still hear David's thoughts. He can hear David deepening his acceptance that they've shared their life together and everything that means, good and bad. Seeing Divad not as a separate person who shared his body, but as--

A headmate. Even if he doesn't know the word yet, that's the feeling David is starting to have for Divad. That they're part of each other, that they they've shared a single life together and always will. David wants to take care of Divad so they can heal together. He wants their system--

Dvd looks away, angry. "They don't need us," he mutters, then glares at Syd. "They don't need you."

Syd is startled. "Excuse me?"

"Are you stupid?" Dvd says, relishing the hurt in Syd's eyes. "David has Divad now. He doesn't need anyone else, so he sure as hell doesn't need you."

"Dvd, that's mean," Kerry chides.

"He doesn't need you either," Dvd tells Kerry, and then regrets it but refuses to back down. "David only needs one person to take care of him. He made his choice."

"I'll believe that when I hear David say it himself," Syd says, unimpressed. "Kerry, I think Dvd is jealous. What do you think?"

"Oh, you are totally jealous," Kerry says, and pokes their chest with her finger.

"So what?" Dvd says, and pushes away Kerry's hand. "You should be jealous, too."

"We don't have to be," Kerry says, confident. "David loves all of us. He's not gonna stop just because he loves Divad. I can hear his thoughts too, remember? And I can hear yours."

Dvd scowls at her. He'd walk away but he knows they'd only follow him, and he doesn't want to be so loud that David will notice.

"David needs more than one person," Syd says. "I made that mistake, too. For him and for myself."

"I am nothing like you," Dvd tells her, the way he did before. Even though now-- What's the difference between what he did to David and what Syd did to them? "But you know what? If we're the same, then you don't deserve David either."

"Maybe I don't," Syd admits. "But he loves me and he wants us to try to work things out. Isn't that what David wants for you?"

"It totally is," Kerry tells her.

"Will you stop that?" Dvd says, annoyed. "You're not supposed to tell Syd our thoughts."

"Sorry," Kerry says, backing down a little. "But of course David's gonna forgive you. He knows it wasn't your fault."

"He shouldn’t forgive me," Dvd tells her. "I hurt him. It’s my job to protect David from anything that hurts him.”

"I hurt him, too," Syd says.

“And that’s why you should stay away from him,” Dvd warns. "Everyone who's ever hurt him should just stay away from him." Kerry and Syd both look unimpressed. Dvd gives them another scowl. "You don't understand."

"Then tell us," Syd says.

Dvd huffs, frustrated. There's nothing he can say that hasn't already been said, or thought and overheard. He's not Divad, he doesn't care about their stupid logical arguments. If he cared about stupid logical arguments he would have listened to Divad and he's never listened to Divad.

Kerry frowns and looks to Syd for help. Syd thinks, and then--

"We are alike," Syd tells him, thinking aloud. "And that means-- Survival is part of your foundation, too. But not your own. David's survival. Right?"

"Obviously," Dvd says.

"But now you know 'David' is all three of you," Syd offers. "So doesn't that change things?"

Dvd shifts his crossed arms.

"Yeah, you're all Davids," Kerry adds. "So all three of you matter the same. You and Divad even have David-David's fragments inside you, so-- You can't want to hurt yourself because that would mean hurting parts of David!"

Dvd's stomach drops. Shit. Shit, he didn't think of that. "Then I have to give them back first," he decides.

"I thought you can't," Kerry says.

"I dunno, we never tried," Dvd admits. They had a monster in their head, they had to stick together. But could he even give back decades of fragments? What would happen to David if he did? There would be memories in them, lots of painful memories and feelings. Dvd doesn't want them, but giving them back--

Out of sheer curiosity, Dvd tries to remember being the last fragment he fused with. A lot of anger fragments broke off from David while they were in Clockworks, and of course Dvd took them in. He was sure that they were what helped him break through the monster's control to protect David from the people who hurt them. Dvd couldn't do anything to stop Benny, but he stopped the orderlies. But now he just feels confused about all of that. And no matter how hard he tries, he can't will himself to not be that fragment anymore.

He curses under his breath and turns to lean against the railing. Divad was right. They can't unfuse.

"It's okay," Kerry soothes, rubbing his back. "We don't want you to unfuse. We just want you to be happy."

"Well I shouldn't be," Dvd tells her, stubbornly. "Divad shouldn't be either. We're just supposed to be what David needs us to be."

"David wants you to be happy," Syd points out. "He doesn't need you to be angry, he needs you to forgive yourself so you can be with him."

"And what do you know about that, huh?" Dvd challenges. "You said you've never had to forgive yourself because you decided you weren't wrong. You know what that is? It's a load of crap."

Dvd is pleased to see his words hit the mark. But it's still not enough to chase Syd away.

"You're right," Syd says, quietly. "What I did to your system was wrong. And I do need to accept that. But then I need to forgive myself for it, because punishing myself won't help me. It won't undo what I did to you. It won't make us happy."

"Oh, it'll make me happy," Dvd promises.

"Will it?" Syd challenges. "I know how it feels to get revenge. I know how satisfying it is. I've used it to push people away and a lot of them deserved to be pushed. But then what? It's never made me less alone. It's never made me feel loved or cared for. It will never be enough." She pauses, reflecting. "That's what forgiveness is for. So we can keep the good things."

"I'm not a good thing," Dvd tells her. "David doesn't even want to think about me anymore. Don't you get it? I hurt him, I'm worthless to him."

"So you're garbage and you should be thrown out?" Syd challenges. "You didn't let David think that about himself, how can you think it about yourself when you're a David, too? When all those parts of him are parts of you? He still loves you, even though it hurts, because that's what David does. Are you giving up on him for his sake? Or because you can't get what you want from him anymore?"

"I am not you," Dvd snarls.

"You're furious at the world for hurting you and you think your anger keeps you safe," Syd tells him, firmly. "But the anger is never enough. It's not enough to make the pain stop and it's not enough to heal your wounds. But there's one person in your life who does that, and he looks at you like you're the sun. But you hurt him anyway and without him-- Everything's cold because he was your sun. And you want him back but maybe it's too late."

Dvd stares at her.

"I have to believe it's not too late," Syd tells him. "And you have to believe it, too. Because David believes it. And him believing it makes it real."

"You don't know that," Dvd insists.

"You're the one who can hear his thoughts," Syd points out. "So you tell me."

Dvd doesn't need to listen. He knows David wants Syd back and he knows David wants Dvd back. David wants everyone back, he wants so much. But Dvd never wanted anything but what they had, and what they had was torture. Dvd tried to change and he failed. So he can't be part of David's new system because if he was, he would just make it torture all over again.

"Well you have to keep trying," Kerry tells him. "When my system changed, I didn't want to eat food or do any of this outside stuff. I was hurting my system because I was afraid. But Cary kept helping me try and it got easier. And sometimes Cary needs help, too. He was afraid of being inside me and that was hurting both of us, but we talked about it and now the pain is gone. We still need to figure stuff out, but-- It's okay because we'll do it together."

Dvd remembers Cary opening up to Kerry yesterday. He admitted he was scared and told Kerry he needed help. Dvd's never been the one who needed help. But he thinks Cary 's like that, too. He's the Dvd to Kerry's David, the one who kept her safe no matter what it cost him. And now Cary's inside of Kerry. They're together.

"We are," Kerry agrees. "Because we're a system. We love each other and trust each other and-- When something's wrong we talk to each other so things can get better again. If you don't know how to be outside-- Then let your headmates help you. They want you to be happy, too."

Dvd feels a pang of longing. He almost feels like-- Maybe he could ask David, but-- "Divad doesn't want me to be happy," he insists. Divad has David now, why would he possibly want Dvd? All they've ever done is hurt each other.

"You just think that because that's how you felt," Kerry tells him. "You had David so you didn't care about anything else, and you pushed Divad away. But that's-- You being stuck in your trauma."

"Oh, is it?" Dvd challenges.

"Yeah, it is," Kerry says. "And it's stupid. So don't do it anymore."

Dvd gives her a disbelieving look. "What, it's that easy?" he challenges.

"I didn't say it was easy," Kerry says. "So what? You did lots of stuff that was hard but you did it for David. I was outside for Cary at first, and now I'm outside for me. So be outside for David until you can figure out how to be outside for yourself."

Dvd turns and looks at David and Divad, still sitting together and talking. He hates being apart from them. It's bad enough they can't share their body, but all this isolation-- He hates it. It's awful. He just wants to be with David again.

"So go be with him," Kerry coaxes. "Tell him what's wrong. Let him help."

"I can't," Dvd says, pained. "I hurt him."

"Okay," Syd says, thinking. "Tell me how you hurt him."

Dvd gives her a disbelieving look.

"I'm serious," Syd says. "Let's break it down. If you figure out what you did wrong, then you can avoid making the same mistakes, right? So what did you do wrong?"

"Everything," Dvd insists. At Syd's disbelieving look, Dvd huffs. "I loved him."

"Okay," Syd says. "And what does loving him mean? What did you actually do?"

"I--" Dvd hesitates. "I gave him what I thought he needed."

"So you didn't ask him what he wanted," Syd offers. "You acted on your own, even though your decisions affected your whole system. Like this morning, when you tried to take David away from me."

"I guess," Dvd admits. Ptonomy talked to them a lot about that. About-- What to do in a crisis. He's supposed to use their new system mantra, but-- He didn't want to think about any of that. He still doesn't feel like any of it is for him.

Maybe his foundation work isn't. But they agreed on their system mantra together.

We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. The words still mean a lot to Dvd, now that he's able to think about them again. It just hurt so much--

"Ptonomy pushed you guys really hard today," Kerry says. "You had to talk about a lot of awful stuff. So that was a lot of shocks, and Davids don't do well with shocks. But that's okay because we're keeping all of you safe. And now the shocks are wearing off."

The shocks are wearing off. Dvd realizes she's right.

But going back to David and Divad, asking them for help-- Dvd doesn't know if he can do it. To be the one on the outside trying to get back in-- It must have been awful for Divad, all those years. Divad will just rub it in his face.

"I don't think he'll be mean," Kerry says. "Divad was helping you with your foundation work, right? This is foundation work, too." She considers him. "We can go with you, if you want? So you don't have to do it alone."

"Maybe," Dvd says, but her offer makes him feel better. He doesn't want to face this alone. He's never had to face anything alone. No matter how bad things got, they always had each other.

"C'mon, let's go over now," Kerry says, taking their hand. "Where are they?"

"Uh, over there," Dvd gestures. Kerry starts pulling him along, and Dvd looks back to Syd for help. Syd just smiles and follows after them.

David and Divad notice their approach and stand up to meet them. They both look wary.

"Um," Dvd starts. Shit. This was a bad idea. He can't forgive himself and Divad will never forgive him-- And what if he hurts David again? He didn't even know he was hurting David before. He can't let it happen again.

"Dvd?" David asks, still wary but also-- Worried. For Dvd? He shouldn't be.

Kerry gives their hand a squeeze. "Me and Dvd found a new word for our systems to use," she says. "Y'know, instead of brothers. I really like it. Dvd, you wanna tell them?"

"Um. It's headmates," Dvd says, quietly. "You're my headmates." He wants that so much it hurts. He looks at them, uncertain. Maybe they hate it. Maybe they hate him.

"Headmates," David tries, then gives a soft smile. "I like that. You're my headmates."

"I like it, too," Divad says. "Dvd--"

"Wait," Dvd says, holding up their free hand. But then he doesn't know what to say. He needs help. He needs--

That's what he needs to say.

"I need help," he admits. "I want us to be together, I hate being--" He chokes up and tries again. "I don't know how to be a person." He looks to David, pleading. "All I've ever been was part of you. I never ever wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry, and-- If you hate me--" Tears well in their eyes.

"I don't hate you," David sighs. "Dvd, I'm not angry."

"You hurt when you think about me," Dvd mourns.

"I do," David admits. "All the things I learned today--" He shakes his head. "I know why you didn't want to tell me, but I needed to know. And now I need time to figure out how I feel, but--" He looks at Divad. "We're a system. We've always been a system." He turns back to Dvd. "And that means everything Divad told me about Benny-- You had to go through that, too. I'm so sorry I did that to you."

"I didn't come over for you to apologize to me!" Dvd sputters.

"We all have things we need forgiveness for," David admits. "Whether it was our fault or not. Even though I couldn't have known about you-- I'm really sorry. I'm even apologizing to myself! I didn't think I'd ever do that, but--" He shrugs. He gives Dvd a hopeful look.

"Like I'm not gonna forgive you," Dvd says, grumpily. "Of course I forgive you!"

David brightens. "Then you forgive Divad? And yourself?"

How is this happening? "I guess I can try," Dvd relents, and gives a long-suffering sigh.

"He must be feeling better, he's back to being a pain," Divad says, but when Dvd turns to glare at him he sees Divad giving him a wry smile. Oh. It was a joke?

"Divad was talking to me about how he wants to go back to college," David says. "He thinks I need to start thinking beyond therapy, and that's-- It's hard for me. Being in Clockworks, being sick-- Even with the fake memories-- I've been awful at being a person, too. So it's not just you."

"We're gonna figure it out together," Divad tells Dvd. "As a system. And that includes you, whether you like it or not. Headmate."

There's a part of Dvd that just wants to hold on to his anger, even his anger at himself. But he doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to give up the good things. Even if that means giving up almost everything he's ever known. Their old system was a disaster anyway. Change is scary, but-- As long as they're doing it together--

He turns to Kerry and Syd. "Um, would it be okay if-- Can you hold on to our body for us? I need to be with my headmates."

"Of course," Syd says.

"I got you," Kerry says, taking firm hold of him. Dvd steps out, and their body slumps in her grip. Syd hesitates, then helps Kerry with it.

"Come back to the garden when you're ready," Syd says, and the two of them head back to the benches.

Dvd watches them go, then turns back to his headmates. He really does like the sound of that. Brothers never felt right, even if it was what David needed. And all those different names for different identities in Syd's book-- If they're just headmates, it doesn't matter if they're fragments or alters or what job they're supposed to do. All that matters is that they're a system.

They don’t have to hurt their system and they never did. If they love each other and work together, the pain will stop.

"So, um," Dvd starts. He looks at David and Divad's held hands with longing. But David doesn't hold out his hand, and he avoids Dvd's eyes.

Dvd is immediately crushed. David doesn't want Dvd to touch him, just like Syd. It's bad enough they can't share their body together, now they can't even holds hands? This is the worst. He should have stayed in their body, at least then he'd have Kerry. Hell, he doesn't care if Syd touches him, she could hold his hand.

"Hey," Divad says, and Dvd looks up. Divad is holding out his hand. "Sit down with us?" Divad sits, pulling David down with him, and he offers his hand for Dvd again.

Dvd sits beside them. He looks at the city around them, at their friends over in the garden, at their body resting on a bench like it’s napping. Everything is calm. He turns back to his headmates. He takes Divad's hand. It feels a lot like David's hand, of course. Because they're all Davids.

'Thanks,' he sends to Divad.

Divad quirks a smile. 'You're welcome.' "So you were asking for our help?" he prompts.

"Yeah," Dvd says, looking at his headmates. He's relieved to see David looking at him openly, hopefully. Even if David isn't ready to be touched by Dvd, he still cares. He still wants to help. And maybe when David's feeling better--

Dvd realizes he really is like Syd. But maybe that's not an awful thing. Maybe it's not so scary that the three of them have a relationship with her. It's not the same as it is with Amy and Kerry, it's more complicated, but-- David wanted them all to work things out and Divad's been doing it, Dvd isn't going to be left out of that. He's not going to be left out of their new system. They're doing all of this healing stuff together, like they've always done everything-- Even if the way they work is different.

Chapter 108: Day 11: All the makings of a strong foundation. (David)

Chapter Text

By the time they get back to the lab, David's worn out even as a mental projection. So while everyone else has dinner, David and Divad take the sofa. David stretches out with his head on Divad's lap, and rests as Divad strokes his fingers through his hair, occasionally brushing his face, his neck, his arm. It's somehow exactly what David needs, and he wonders how Divad knows. But then his tired brain reminds him that of course he knows. They've probably done this a thousand times.

"Not that many," Divad says, with soft regret. "But Dvd did it after-- I stopped."

David makes a small noise, just accepting. He's too tired for regret or resistance, and he feels like he's moving past those things anyway. His headmates are real and they've always been together. They always will be together. That's just the truth.

Looking across the room, David sees Dvd's quiet smile, a response to his thought. It makes David feel better to see that. He doesn't want to have this physical distance between them. He can't explain it, but-- The closer the three of them get, the closer David wants them to be.

"We'll get there," Divad soothes. "Just rest."

David gives another soft assent and closes his eyes. He's so tired. He feels a blanket drape over him, and keeps following the steady brush of Divad's hand.

"David. David. David."

The sound of his name pulls David from a light doze. He cracks open his eyes to see things have changed while he napped. Dinner's over, everyone's gathered around the sitting area again, and on the coffee table--

Two trays of ceramic pieces. And a bottle of glue, and some supplies--

He sits up, immediately awake. He looks to Divad. "Are we--"

Divad nods, pleased.

David pushes aside the blanket and rubs his face, trying to get his brain to start working again. They're going to do it, they're really going to fix his rocket lamp. After the day they had, after-- God, it was all so much. He can't believe he almost-- All of them almost--

But they didn't. Everyone helped them through it. It feels like, for the first time-- They're really going to be okay.

"We're really glad to hear that," Ptonomy says. He's sitting with Oliver, as usual. David looks around, getting his bearings. Syd and Dvd each have a bean bag chair. Amy and Lenny are snuggled in the other loveseat, and Kerry's standing next to the sofa.

"Um, you can sit down now," David tells her. "Third cushion."

"Thanks!" Kerry says, brightly, and sits beside him. Even though they can't touch, it's nice to be close.

"David," Ptonomy says, drawing his focus. "Yesterday, when we took your lamp apart, we thought it would help you to see us put it together. We wanted to help you accept that you're not doing this alone. But we realized that, as important as that is, we can help you with something even more important: to accept that the three of you are doing this together."

David looks to his headmates. He takes Divad's hand.

"We're all going to help the three of you," Ptonomy says. "I think with all of us together, it'll be easy to get the gluing done tonight."

Kerry gets off the sofa and kneels at the coffee table. She takes the glue. "C'mon. We got this. Who wants to start?"

"How about Dvd starts?" Syd suggests. She gets out of her chair and kneels, copying Kerry. Everyone else does, too.

Dvd looks over the pieces. "Um, okay," he says, nervous. He gives David a meaningful look, then Divad, then back down at the trays. "Red's from the bottom."

"How about one of the fins?" Syd suggests, pointing one out.

Dvd takes it. He turns the piece in his hands, then looks for a match. "Ah, there," he says, point at the far corner near David.

"This one?" Amy asks, picking up a red piece.

"Yeah," Dvd says. He takes it from her and checks to see if they match. They do.

"Here, I'll put the glue on," Kerry says. Dvd holds out the pieces and she dabs on the glue. "Now press them together tight."

Dvd lines the pieces back up and carefully presses them together.

"I'll hold them together until they set," Syd offers. "You can help your headmates find the next match."

"Can you turn that one over?" Divad asks, pointing at a blue piece. "David, do you see a match?"

David looks. It hasn't been long since he did this the first time. "That one, I think," he says. Dvd takes them and tries to fit them together. It's a match, and Kerry glues them, and Lenny takes them to hold them together.

The first pieces match up quickly, but then they get to the smaller fragments and it gets trickier. As matches dry, they're set on the table to be matched again. Gradually, several large chunks start to come together.

David is peering intently at some small pieces with silver paint when Divad taps him on the shoulder. "Hey, you guys wanna try something?"

"Uh, sure?" David says. "What is it?"

"It's a kind of sharing," Divad says. "We did it before, sort of, with the name cards."

"Oh," David says, and then it sinks in. "Oh! Uh-- I'm not sure--" That wasn't easy for him.

"I thought you didn't want to share?" Dvd asks Divad, warily.

"I don't," Divad admits. "Not like we did. But that doesn't mean--" He pauses. "Being projected all the time is hard for me, too," he admits. "I miss being together in our body. Maybe we are like Cary and Kerry. It doesn't hurt, but--" He gives Dvd a vulnerable look.

"Yeah," Dvd says, softly.

"I think-- I feel it too?" David says. "But-- My possession trauma--"

"I think we can work around it," Divad says. "Dvd's the one in our body, so-- David, you shouldn't feel possessed. And if it's just our hand-- Maybe that will help you feel in control, like Lenny and Syd."

"I can't do what you do," Dvd protests. "I can't receive."

"You don't have to," Divad says. "We just have to work together. Say what we want to do and take it slow. That's what we've been doing, right? C'mon, it's worth a shot."

"Why'd you bring this up all of a sudden?" Dvd asks, suspicious.

"Because if we're fixing our lamp together-- I want us to fix it together," Divad says. "I want us to be able to share while we're all awake. It's nothing like the way we shared before, but I think that's why we need to do it."

"So it's-- Healthy sharing?" David tries.

"Exactly," Divad says. "Ptonomy, what do you think?"

"I think it's definitely worth a shot," Ptonomy says. "David, you don't have to do it if you don't want to. You've been through a lot today. You could try it tomorrow?"

David thinks about it. Even after his nap he's still pretty tired, he'd prefer to do this when he's rested, and yet-- Divad has a point. If they're putting their lamp back together as-- A symbol of their system's recovery-- Then if they can manage to put even one part of it together while they're physically together-- Then every time they look at the lamp, they'll remember that. It would be such a powerful, good memory to have.

"I want to try," David decides.

"Dvd, you're the last holdout," Divad says. "I never thought you'd be the one who doesn't want to share."

"Of course I want to share!" Dvd protests. He hesitates, but then-- "Oh all right."

He stands up, and goes over to the sofa side, while Kerry sits next to Syd. Dvd sits between Divad and David.

"Now what?" Dvd asks.

"Let's do a test first," Divad says. "Relax our body and put our hands on the table." Dvd complies. "David, you just watch."

Divad brings his right hand over, and it looks like he's going to hold Dvd's hand. But his hand sinks inside.

"Okay," Divad tells Dvd. "Now we both raise our hand. Ah ah-- Not so fast! That's better."

David watches as they practice raising their hand up and down. It seems like-- Divad's hand is stuck inside their body.

"Not stuck," Divad says. "Any more than you're stuck when you're the one in our body. It's like-- Magnets, not glue."

"Magnets," David mulls. He thinks about how when he enters their body, it sort of-- Attaches to him. It snaps into place. And then it's not their body, it's his body. Well, it's still their body, but--

"Are you ready to give it a try?" Divad asks.

"Okay," David says, bracing himself. He has control. He can pull his hand out whenever he wants.

"It's just like holding hands," Divad says. "And you're the one holding Dvd's hand."

David hesitates again.

"Shit," Dvd mutters. He looks pained. "Look, it was a nice idea. But it's not--"

Before he can stop himself, David slaps his hand down on the table, right into Dvd's left hand. "Fuck the shit beetle," David says, tightly.

Dvd stares at their joined hands and keeps completely still.

"David?" Divad prompts, concerned.

David reminds himself he's in control. He's in control. He's in control. Magnets, not glue. Lenny and Syd did this, he can do it, too. He's not going to let his asshole parasite keep his system from putting itself back together.

"What do we do next?" David asks, focusing very intently.

"Take it slow," Ptonomy cautions.

"Uh, how about-- We raise our thumb?" Dvd suggests. "On three. One, two--"

There's a tug as Dvd raises their thumb a fraction faster than David, and David's stomach wobbles. But they match and hold still, and the tug goes away.

"Okay," David says, breathless. "Uh."

"Take your hand out," Divad says, a gentle command. "So you know you can."

David pulls his hand away. It's shaking, a little. He's not sure he can put it back in.

"Hey, that was a really good start," Divad says, soothingly. "It was hard for Lenny and Syd, too."

"It wasn't enough," David says, upset with himself, with his weakness.

"Hey, there's nothing weak about what you just did," Lenny tells him. "You can't call yourself weak without calling me and Syd weak, too. And you're not gonna do that, right?"

"No," David admits. "Sorry."

Divad takes his hand out, too. "Okay. How about-- Dvd gets two pieces lined up for us. And then we reach in and join him to push them together. Nice and quick. How about that?"

That sounds-- Manageable. "Okay," David agrees.

"The base parts are almost ready," Syd points out. "You could slide them together on the table."

"That sounds perfect," Ptonomy says. "We'll get those ready. Then you three can bring it all together."

There's a flurry of activity as everyone sorts through the remaining pieces for base fragments and glues them together, and the result is-- Three pieces of red and silver, each with a fin.

"Excellent," Oliver declares. "All the makings of a strong foundation."

"Dvd, do a test before I put the glue on," Kerry says.

Dvd lines the three pieces up so they're almost together. Then he puts his hands around them and squeezes, closing the thin gaps. He picks up the base and inspects it. "Looks good," he says, and gives it to her for the glue.

When the pieces are lined up again, Dvd puts his hands back in place.

"Okay, just like before," Divad says. "David, we'll put our hands in and squeeze, like Dvd did, and Dvd will squeeze with us. As soon as the pieces are together, we'll pull our hands away. Okay?"

"Okay," David says, and braces himself. He can do this. Nice and quick. And then they'll have made the lamp base together while sharing their body. He put in his wish list that he wants good memories. This will be a good memory.

"On three," Dvd says. "One, two--"

David and Divad push their hands into Dvd's, and then they squeeze tight, bringing the base together. David holds on as long as he can, and then pulls himself free. Divad follows suit, but Dvd holds the base together, steady.

"We did it," David says, relieved it's done and slowly elated that they actually did it. They did it and now-- There's real, solid proof that they did it. The base of their lamp wouldn't be one piece if they hadn't done it. God, he just wants to take it and put it with all the other things he's gathered up, with the family photo and the writing practice and the scans and the name cards.

"That was fantastic work," Ptonomy tells them. "All three of you should be really proud of what you just did together."

David looks at his headmates, and all of them smile at each other and at the lamp base. It feels better than David imagined. It feels wonderful.

"Let's get the rest of this put together," Ptonomy encourages.

They continue the same way. Everyone else assembles the small pieces into large ones, and then they give them to the Davids for the final step. Every addition to the rocket lifts David higher and gives him the strength to put the next piece in. And then the cone goes on and-- It's done.

"We did it," David says, sitting back, amazed. He's shaking, he feels overcome and victorious and at least a dozen other things at once. He never thought putting their lamp back together would feel so huge. But it was. And they did. They put their lamp back together, together.

It still needs a lot of work. The paint is a mess, some glue dripped out, and there's still the chips and gaps that were there when David taped it back together on his own. But he trusts that his friends will help them fix it. And they'll get the motor fixed and the shade back on, and their lamp will be-- It'll be whole.

David starts crying.

"Oh no," Dvd says, worried.

"I'm okay," David says, even though he can't stop crying and he's still shaking--

Dvd steps away, and Divad slides over and pulls David into his arms. David holds onto him tightly.

"Just let it out," Divad soothes.

David can't stop anyway. He feels like-- A huge tension is releasing from him, and his whole body is in shock from that. Divad keeps holding him and soothing him, and David finds himself smiling through his tears, interrupted by little hiccups.

By the time he runs out of tears, David's run out of everything. He slumps against Divad, utterly spent, but-- Strangely light. When he has the strength, he sits up and wipes at his face. God, he needed that. And now he needs to lie down and stay down.

"Let's get David to bed," Ptonomy says. "You two can join him when you're ready."

"Can we put the lamp by our bed?" David asks. He hated not having it there last night.

"I don't see why not," Ptonomy says. "Dvd, could you bring it over?"

"Be careful," Kerry urges.

"I'm not gonna let it break," Dvd says, certain. He picks up the lamp with absolute care and carries it over to the sleeping area.

"Thank you," David tells everyone, even though he feels like no amount of thanks will ever be enough.

"David says thanks," Lenny relays to Syd.

Syd smiles and looks over at Dvd as he carefully places the lamp onto their bedside table. She turns back to the sofa. "I'm glad we could help," she says, quietly pleased. "Sleep well, okay?"

David tiredly smiles back to her, but she can't see it.

Divad helps David to the bed, and David lies back with a sigh. He looks at the lamp. He can almost imagine it whole again. It'll be whole. He can't get over that. He doesn't want to get over it.

"We made some really good memories today," Divad tells him. He rests his hand on David's head, strokes it the way he did before. "And we're gonna make more tomorrow. And every day after that, okay?" There's tears in his eyes now, and Dvd looks like he's close behind.

"We will," David agrees. And he believes it.

Chapter 109: Day 11: What you need is a notebook. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

“Dvd? Divad? Are you two okay?”

Dvd looks up from David to see Amy’s come over to check on them. She doesn’t take the seat beside him, correctly assuming that Divad is sitting in it.

Yes, Dvd thinks. No. Yes. He wipes at their eyes.

“We’re okay,” Divad says, softly. He wipes his eyes, too. “Can we stay up a while longer?”

“Of course,” Amy says. “Can I keep you company?”

Divad looks at him, and Dvd nods. “Please,” Divad tells her.

Amy smiles and brings over another chair, sets it next to theirs. She offers her hand to Dvd and he takes it.

Dvd glances over at everyone else, keeping an eye them as he always does. All of them are patients in some way as well as helpers, but David’s the one who needs the most help. Now that he’s out for the night, everyone is relaxing, letting down their guard. As if David is the one they’re defending themselves against instead of the shit beetle.

But Dvd gets it. It’s a lot of work, all this helping. It’s been hard on him, too, but it’s worth it. David shared their body today, just a little, and that makes everything worth it. Dvd closes his eyes and remembers the feeling of David’s hand with his, moving together. It was strange sharing that way, but it was wonderful. David thought it was wonderful. He loved being with his headmates, sharing with them, being close to them. He wants to be closer. He wants—

Dvd squeezes Amy’s hand, overcome again. They’re getting David back. They’re actually getting him back. After everything the monster did to David, to all of them, they’re actually— He lets out a shuddering breath, tears of relief in their eyes. He looks at the lamp they glued back together and he's afraid to accept the hope it gave David but can't deny it either.

The sound of the printer gets his attention, and he sees Ptonomy collecting printouts. When he has them all, a lot of them, he brings them over to Syd.

"These are for you," Ptonomy says. "They're the transcripts of the conversations we had with the Davids today. No thoughts, just the things they said aloud."

"Oh, wow," Syd says, wide-eyed. "Thank you."

"We wanted to relay to you more consistently, but— It's not always possible," Ptonomy admits. "We'll have the other conversations you missed in the morning, including the things that happened when you were out."

Syd starts flipping through the pages. "This will be really helpful." She looks over at Dvd. "Is this okay with you two?"

"Tell her yes," Divad says.

"Yeah, it's fine," Dvd relays. He's still not entirely comfortable with Syd, but— She helped all of them a lot today. Dvd doesn't want to share his thoughts with her, but he doesn't mind her knowing what they've said.

"Thank you, Dvd, Divad," Syd says, and gives them one of her little smiles.

Dvd shrugs and goes back to staring at David. Staring at David is something he can deal with.

"Oh, Ptonomy," Syd says. "I was wondering— Can you give me access to the surveillance videos? I want to watch what happened in the courtroom. From the perspective of the present."

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "I'll set you up at Cary's workstation."

The two of them head off to do that, and Dvd shifts his focus to Kerry and Oliver. Oliver's checking on Cary again.

"He's been asleep all day," Kerry complains. "He has to wake up soon."

"I'm sure he won't be much longer," Oliver assures her. "Perhaps the two of you need to share sleep, like me and my body, and the Davids."

"Maybe," Kerry says, but she's not pleased. "I don't like sleeping without him."

"But you're not," Oliver says.

"It's different like this," Kerry pouts. "I know I have to take care of him now, but— I miss him."

"I think I do, too," Oliver says. Kerry hugs him and he holds her, pensive.

Which just leave Lenny. She's breaking the rules, of course, sitting on her own. She looks pensive, too. And pensive and Lenny aren't a good combination.

David didn't tell them to make up with Lenny the way he did with Amy and Syd, probably because there's nothing for Lenny to make up for. The things Farouk did to them as her, the things David thought she did as Benny— Lenny had nothing to do with any of it. Divad was never shy about not liking her, but that was just him being mad about the drugs. Lenny was there for them in Clockworks, and she's been there for them since Farouk let her go.

Or there for David. Lenny's very clearly been there for David. Not that she's ignored Dvd and Divad or anything. She's only been back with them properly for a couple of days, and she was a patient for most of today, not a helper. But if they're supposed to do this healing thing together and that's what's going to keep them safe, then there's a gap in their defenses that needs to be closed.

"Hey, can you stay with David?" Dvd asks Amy. "Me and Divad gotta do something."

"We do?" Divad asks.

"Of course," Amy tells them, and gives them an encouraging look. She must have heard what Dvd was thinking and she’s giving her support. It makes Dvd feel more confident, knowing Amy's got their back. They still have stuff to work out, but— She's their sister. If Divad and David have both made peace with her—

"C'mon," Dvd tells Divad, and they head over to the sitting area. Lenny's still in the loveseat, with Amy's spot empty. "Okay if I sit there?" he asks her.

Lenny glances up at him, visibly remembers he's not David, and then shrugs. "Whatever."

Dvd sits down, and Divad takes the coffee table, already cleared from the lamp rebuilding. "Divad's there," Dvd tells her.

"What, no cat?" Lenny asks.

"Huh?" Dvd says, confused.

Lenny waves it off. "So what's the intervention for?"

"It's not an intervention," Dvd says, wrinkling his nose. They've had enough of those things. "No one sits alone, right? We noticed you were alone, so— Now you got us."

"So you left Amy alone?" Lenny asks. She doesn't look especially thrilled by their company.

"Amy's with David," Dvd reminds her. "What, we're not good enough to sit with you?"

"I didn't say that," Lenny defends. "Look, I just— Got a lot to think about, okay?"

"That's why Ptonomy made the rule," Divad reminds her. "Sitting alone and thinking too much is bad for all of us."

"Kerry says talking is nutritious," Dvd offers.

"You're not gonna quit, are you?" Lenny asks, exasperated.

"Nope," Dvd says, proudly. "Davids don't quit."

"Don't I know it," Lenny mutters. "Look, today's been a lot, okay? And you don't wanna talk about all that stuff any more than I do."

"The Benny stuff?" Dvd asks.

"What else?" Lenny asks. "Turns out making a cocktail out of me and Benny was a bigger leap than I thought."

"So?" Dvd asks. "You should be relieved."

"Well I'm not," Lenny says, defensive. "It's really fucking weird, okay? It's like that stupid thing people say about having sex with all the people that the person you're banging had sex with. Except it's rape and we can't remember it. Me and David can't, anyway." She looks away. "Fuck."

"None of that happened to you," Divad reminds her.

"Yeah, well I sure as hell remember it," Lenny says. "Or enough of it. Kerry thinks me and Benny are some kind of system, but it's not like that. I just remember being a me version of him. Sometimes I feel more like that Lenny than whoever I actually used to be, so what does that make me?"

"But you got your old memories back," Divad points out.

"And Oliver's got his body back," Lenny replies. "It didn't magically make all the bad shit go away. And now I don't have my body, so fuck me, right?"

Dvd has to admit this is more than he knows how to handle. He looks to Divad for help. Divad gives him an annoyed look for dragging them into this.

"Look," Divad says to Lenny. "Farouk needed you so he could get David to trust him. Not the Benny-David who was trying to destroy himself, the Lenny-David who you helped him become. We were there, remember? David wouldn't have gotten better without you. He wouldn't have been healthy enough to want things again without you, so he wouldn't have asked Syd out without you."

"And they wouldn't have kissed and swapped bodies and killed me," Lenny grumbles.

"No, but if they hadn't, you'd still be a red," Divad says. "And so would we, no matter what color they put us in. You saved us, Lenny. You saved us a lot. Whatever bad shit Farouk put in you, it's his, not yours. You're still the Lenny we remember, and we remember, okay?"

"Okay, okay," Lenny says, surrendering. "Did you have that speech saved up or something?"

Divad eases. "I told David a lot of terrible things, so I'm stocking up on good things to tell him to make up for that. But I guess they're for you, too. Because you're a good thing in our life, and— We don't want to lose any of the good things. Right Dvd?"

"Right," Dvd agrees. "Syd said forgiveness is how you keep the good things. We don't have anything to forgive you for, but— David said sometimes it doesn't matter. Sometimes you need forgiveness anyway." He glances at Divad, then back to Lenny. "So I forgive you, okay? I forgive Lenny and Lenny-Benny for whatever not-your-fault shit you feel guilty about. Got it?"

"Are you serious?" Lenny asks, half-amused, but also— Needing.

"I forgive you, too," Divad adds. "Lenny and Lenny-Benny. You're clean by us. All sins absolved. And when David's awake we'll make sure he tells you, too, because there's no way he's not gonna forgive you."

"You guys are completely ridiculous," Lenny protests, but the pain in her eyes has lessened.

"Yup," Dvd says, proudly.

Lenny rolls her eyes, relaxes. But there's still something bothering her.

"You need us to wake David up so he’ll forgive you now?" Dvd teases.

Lenny gives him a look for that. "Let the poor guy sleep, geez. Bad enough Ptonomy runs him into the ground every day." She sighs. "It's just—" She looks away. "Those years were ours. And now—"

"Now they're not," Divad says, understanding. "They were the foundation of the friendship you and David remember."

"Yeah," Lenny says, quietly.

"The shit beetle fucked all of us over," Divad says. "But he didn't take everything. You still have six years together. Maybe it was in the worst place in the world, but— Those years are still yours. And ours. Don't think of it as losing three years of David. Think of it as— Gaining twelve years of us. Collectively."

"Eighteen years of Clockworks?" Lenny asks, fake-alarmed. "Gee, thanks."

"You're welcome," Divad says, pleased. Then he looks thoughtful. "Hey, you know— Maybe letting go of those Benny years— That'll help you not be the person in those memories."

"Maybe," Lenny says, and looks thoughtful, too. She sighs. "I can't believe you guys loved Benny."

"It's complicated," Divad admits.

"What isn't?" Lenny points out.

"It's like Ptonomy said," Divad says. "We never learned to have boundaries. Whatever David felt, whatever he wanted— We had to feel and want, too."

"So you felt what David felt for me?" Lenny asks, curious. "And Syd?"

"Yeah," Divad admits. "It wasn't all we felt, but— It was like—" He pauses, thinking. "We shared our body, even when we couldn't control it anymore. The feelings inside it— They were hard to resist. If we wanted to just be ourselves, we had to go to our bedroom."

"That's— Kind of how it felt being in Farouk," Lenny says. "No boundaries. Like, the longer I was in him— The more I was him. I mean, when David said he saw Farouk's thoughts in my head— I wasn't even surprised. What was weird was having my own thoughts."

"How do you feel now?" Dvd asks, a little wary.

"I dunno," Lenny admits. "It was easier when I had my body. I could sort of— Feel what was me in it. I think— That's why I got confused. The mainframe does a lot for us, but it can't give me that."

"That's good, though," Divad says. "When you get your body back, you'll know what's you again."

"Gotta get there first," Lenny says.

"If your brain's a computer, can't you just erase the bad stuff?" Dvd asks, then falters. "Not that erasing yourself is a good idea."

"Yeah, no shit," Lenny says, pointedly. "And the whole reason I got hired in the first place is because I know what we're facing. I'm not much good if I'm like Oliver. I can't just wipe it all out. But maybe— I can sort of— Dissociate from the Lenny-Benny stuff. It's not mine, right? It's just stuff I happen to know."

"It's not yours," Divad agrees. "And David knows that, he doesn't want you to carry that."

"It's weird," Lenny says. "All those fake memories feel a lot more real than my real ones. It's like— Trying to be me feels like— I'm convincing myself I don't exist."

"You definitely exist," Dvd tells her.

"Do I?" Lenny asks. She says it lightly, but it feels serious anyway. "I know the mainframe checked me out, but—" She gestures at her body. "None of this is real. Nothing in his head was real. And what was real about the rest of my life?"

"Look," Divad says, frowning. "Until pretty recently— We didn't want to be real either. But it wasn't true for me and Dvd and it's not true for you. You said we're all the ship of Theseus. Okay, well, if you want to talk philosophy, how about Descartes? I think therefore I am."

"I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am," Lenny corrects. She taps her head. "Gotta love that mainframe."

"Fine," Divad says, clearly annoyed to be out-geeked by Lenny. "'That cannot doubt which does not think, and that cannot think which does not exist.' Mutants are living proof that our souls are the essence of our selves. You wanna talk real? That's what's real."

"So it’s all about our souls?" Lenny presses. “Farouk said souls are clay.”

“Why does anyone listen to that asshole?” Dvd complains. “You, David, Syd, none of you shut up about him. He’s a manipulative liar, why do you think anything he says is the truth?”

Lenny holds up her hands in surrender. “Geez, I was just asking.”

“Sorry,” Dvd says, backing down. “I’m just really sick of it. Just because the shit beetle makes some grand statement, that doesn’t mean it’s true. It’s probably the opposite.”

“So what, souls are the one thing that can’t change?” Lenny challenges. “What about detachment syndrome?”

“What, you mean the disease that no one understands and we’ve only known about for five minutes?” Dvd scoffs. “Please.”

“You realize he has nothing to back any of this up,” Divad points out. “Like, genuinely nothing.”

“Hey, I’ve got common sense,” Dvd says, tapping their head. “Which is more than anyone else here’s got. Don’t trust the monster.

“All this metaphysics stuff is Cary’s thing,” Lenny says, dismissive. “He can figure it out when he stops hibernating.”

"Okay," Divad says. "Then forget about the science. We're all changing, right? So it doesn't matter who you were. Who do you want to be? What's on your wish list?"

"Getting my body back," Lenny says. "And then—" She falters. "I dunno. Eating, fucking, getting high enough to forget all of this forever?"

"That's it?" Divad presses. "We stop Farouk and you get your body back. We all take that tropical vacation and you live it up for a while. Then what?"

"I don't know!" Lenny admits. "I never wanted to live on some stupid farm, but— I get why David felt that way. All I've ever wanted was get away from the bullshit, but what I got was more bullshit."

"What you need is a notebook," Divad decides.

Lenny groans in protest.

"Dvd, go get her one," Divad says. "And a pen. We're gonna help Lenny get started on her foundation."

Dvd goes over to Cary's work area. Syd is watching the surveillance footage, headphones on and deeply focused. She's might have been watching the courtroom footage to start, but now it looks like she's going back through everything Division 3 has on David. He quietly grabs a notebook and pen and goes back to the loveseat.

"You've had to listen to all of us do this, so you know how this works," Divad tells Lenny. He summons Dvd's notebook and holds it out for Dvd to reference. "We'll start simple. Dvd, read out your foundation and change the name. Lenny, write this down."

"I knew I was gonna get dragged into this," Lenny mutters, but opens the notebook. "Let's just get it over with."

Dvd looks over his foundation work. He was barely able to bring himself to write it earlier, he felt so awful. He still feels wary about all this people stuff. But his headmates have theirs and he's not going to get left out. "I am Lenny. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. Lenny is love."

"Slow down," Lenny protests. Her handwriting is kind of clumsy, like Dvd's. Seeing that makes this easier, somehow. "I belong to myself," she says aloud when she finishes. "Guess I'll be taking my own advice on that one."

"Now the mantra," Divad says.

"There are things I lost that I’ll never get back," Dvd reads to her, pausing after each sentence. "But I’m here and I’m not alone. I’m loved and there’s no shame in love. I’m strong enough to heal. I'm not doing this alone."

Maybe he feels all of that a little more now. He has his headmates, he has their friends and Amy. And he's always been strong. Being strong enough to heal will mean being strong enough to destroy the shit beetle once and for all. Dvd pictures trapping him in a jar and crushing him with their mind until he pops. It's glorious.

He reads out the stuff about love and saying no, and Lenny writes all of that.

"Now the wish list," Divad says. "That has to be all you."

"I know the first one," Lenny says. "Get my body back." She writes it. "And the tropical vacation. And eat like, an entire feast. And get laid. And high."

"That's a good start," Divad says. "What about after that? When the vacation's over. How about college?"

"Uh, hard pass," Lenny says. "Let's do the last part."

"The therapy list," Divad says. "Okay. Dvd, read out yours. But one line at a time, so we can talk about it."

"Accept help," Dvd reads.

"That's an easy one," Lenny says, and just writes that down.

"Easier said than done," Divad warns.

"Stop punishing my system," Dvd reads.

"I don't punish myself," Lenny declares.

Divad thinks. He pulls out a loose sheet of paper. Syd's foundation work. "Syd put down 'leave my old refuge.' Punishment is our system's refuge. What's yours?"

Lenny taps the end of her pen against her teeth. "Uh, candy, drugs, and pussy?"

"Hedonism," Divad summarizes.

"Having a good time," Lenny counters. "I'm not gonna give that up."

"Syd's refuge was like ours," Divad says. "Pain made her feel safe because that's what she was taught. If your life was so great before, why'd you end up in Clockworks?"

"Because I was arrested thirteen times," Lenny defends. "I didn't walk into Clockworks to get better. I was street trash and they put me in the dump."

"Okay," Divad says, conciliatory. "How about when we broke you out of Division 3? You went right back to all that, right? Did it make you happy?"

Lenny pauses. "The morning after was kinda shit."

"Bad hangover?" Dvd asks.

"You could say that," Lenny says. "I just— Didn't feel like I belonged there anymore. It felt— Small."

"Ptonomy said that's why refuges hurt us," Divad says. "We grow out of them, but we keep trying to force ourselves back in. You relied on those things because they were all you had. Now you've got other stuff."

"You've got us," Dvd declares. "And whatever we've got we're gonna share with you. Like our Twizzlers."

Lenny softens at that.

"It's about figuring out a better way to be," Divad tries. "So you can be happy instead of just— Not miserable."

"That's a new one," Lenny says. "How about 'learn how to be actually happy'?" She writes that down.

"Be open and vulnerable," Dvd reads. "Everybody needs that one."

Lenny writes it down. "Next?"

"Syd needed to find her motivation," Divad says. "What's your motivation?"

"All I ever wanted to do was escape," Lenny says. "But I doubt that's gonna fly as a therapy goal."

"Maybe that's your refuge, not pleasure," Dvd suggests.

Lenny considers that. "You might be right. Okay. I mean, actually being happy sounds pretty good. I could add 'stop trying to escape—'" She immediately blanches. "Okay, escape is definitely my refuge. It's gonna suck to leave it." She writes it anyway.

"It's really hard to stop hurting our system," Divad says, understanding. "But not hurting it is better. Staying will be better for you, too."

"That's not your motivation, though," Dvd points out.

"I got plenty of motivation,” Lenny says. “I’m not letting that asshole hurt me or you guys ever again.”

“And when he’s dead?” Divad asks. “Are you just gonna throw all this away and drown yourself in drugs until it kills you?”

“Hey, don’t take your anger about Benny out on me,” Lenny says. “I heard what you were thinking. You wanna forgive me for something? Try that.”

“I’m sorry,” Divad says, backing down. “You’re right. I am angry about the drugs. I just— Don’t want to be angry at David about it.”

“Maybe you should talk to Ptonomy about that tomorrow,” Lenny says. “Get some anger management tips or something.”

Divad considers that, then pulls out his own notebook and adds that to his therapy list. “I will,” he says. “But you still need to think past Farouk. David does too. And Dvd.”

“I’m fine now,” Dvd insists.

“You asked me to erase you and fuse with you,” Divad reminds him. “That’s not fine.”

“We’re getting David back,” Dvd insists, but that only reminds him of how much they’ve lost. He struggles to stay calm. He doesn’t want to start wobbling again. “Okay, maybe you’re right. Don’t get smug.”

Divad holds up his hands in surrender.

“Fine,” Lenny says. “‘Think about my future.’ Done. Next?”

Dvd can’t touch his notebook, so he tells Divad to add ‘think about my future’ to his own therapy list. Then he reads, "Learn to recognize what I'm feeling and to manage my reactions."

Lenny hesitates, then writes it down.

"Believe I am worth saving," Dvd reads.

"Fuck, these aren't small," Lenny says, but writes it anyway.

"Make my foundation and mantra my own," Dvd reads.

"That's an important one," Divad adds, as Lenny writes. "You have to make it yours for it to really help you. And you have to keep doing your foundation work. Otherwise it won't be there when you need it."

"Got it," Lenny says.

"The last two," Dvd says. "Accept my wounds, learn to care for them, and let others care for them. Learn acceptance and compassion for myself and others."

Lenny writes them, then leans back and looks over the list. "Syd wasn't messing around when she made this."

"You know Syd," Divad says, meaningfully.

Lenny sighs. "Guess I've got something to keep me busy while you guys catch your zees. Speaking of which, it's definitely your bedtime. Go snuggle up with David."

Dvd looks over at David. Finally. He's been waiting for this.

Divad keeps Dvd company while he takes care of their body's evening routine, and then they go to their bed where Amy and Ptonomy are waiting. Amy puts the sleep inducer on their head, and then Dvd lies down over David and—

It's like letting out a breath he's held all day long. He feels David with him all through their body, like a hug from head to toe. For a blissful moment, he can almost pretend David is awake with him, that everything is okay and they'll never be apart again. And then Divad joins them, and even though that feels even better— It pulls Dvd back to reality.

"We're ready," Dvd says. And then Ptonomy turns on the inducer, and sleepiness sweeps through their body and pulls them down.

Chapter 110: Interlude III: Del be del râh dâreh. (Past David)

Chapter Text

The hospital garden is lovely and full of flowers. Amahl and Melanie take David out of the building every day, usually in the late morning so they can have an early lunch together in the sun. David tries his best to enjoy it, but it's difficult. Everything is difficult, especially the things that should be easy.

He still wakes up early every day, screaming from nightmares. Now his screams wake up both Amahl and Melanie, but Melanie seems to have the same endless patience as Amahl. Amahl soothes David, makes them his coffee, and then the day begins.

They help him take care of their body. His body. Their body. David can't give up hoping that one day Divad and Dvd will come back to him. He can't accept that they were just the monster's masks, he can't accept it even though there's no other explanation for why they're gone. Why everything's gone.

Their powers won't come back either. Because they're not their powers, apparently. He doesn't have any mutant powers because he's not a mutant. He's just a human, a normal human with only one mind in his head. Just like Amahl.

Amahl still wants him to be his key. David doesn't understand that, he doesn't see how what's left of him could be of any use to anyone. His powers were all he could offer his system, in the end. And now he doesn't have powers and he doesn't have a system. David isn't sure if getting rid of the monster was worth losing so much. But when he told Amahl that one morning, Amahl just shook his head.

"Don't be silly, my dear," Amahl said, hugging him and and stroking their hair, their back. "You only suffer the pain of healing. Trust Amahl, let me heal you, and the pain will stop."

David held him back, grateful, and wanted so much for those words to be true.

Amahl is certainly doing everything he can to make them true. The one thing that makes David feel less alone in their body is touch, so Amahl is generous with touch. He doesn't just hold David after his nightmares now, but touches him in smaller ways all through the day, encourages David to reach for him whenever he needs him. Sometimes it feels like Amahl's touch is the only thing keeping him alive.

It's strange, being so close to someone who isn't inside him. There was their parents and Amy, of course, but all of that feels so far away and tangled up in everything he's struggling with.

His past isn't real. It couldn't have been, not when every waking moment was a delusion. If Divad and Dvd and their powers were all just the monster's tricks, then— Then what's left of David's past? And if he has no real past— Then who is he now?

Sometimes it's all too much for him. All the time, if he's honest. It's been weeks since Melanie arrived, an eternity and the blink of an eye, and David is still bleakly numb. Their hand is healing well, like their arms. He eats what he's given and does what he's told. Amahl tells him he's getting stronger and healthier every day, that their brain and body are healing. Accounting for the delusions that the monster made David experience, the surgery appears to have been a complete success.

It still takes everything David has not to hurt himself again, not to try to make the pain stop on his own. But he's failed twice and he doubts he'll get another chance. Amahl is rarely apart from David at all, and Melanie doesn't need to be close to freeze him in place with a thought. He knows it's for his own good, and yet— Sometimes David feels more like their prisoner than their patient.

But he doesn't want to die. He wants the pain to stop but— He wants Amahl to be right, he wants them to be able to save him. But even with Amahl comforting him, even with Melanie's telepathic therapy sessions every afternoon after their nap, David doesn't feel like he's drowning. He feels like he's been down at the bottom of the ocean for so long he's just one more seaweed-covered, rusted wreck.

So it's not too much of a surprise when Melanie turns to him that morning and says, with quiet concern, "I think it's time we discussed medication."

"No," David says, immediately and urgently. He looks to her, pleading. "Please, no."

Melanie takes their hand. "David, what the monster did to you— It took something that can truly help you and made it a terrible torture. We completely understand why you're afraid. But your neurochemical profile won't improve without help."

"She's right," Amahl says. His arm is around their back and he and rubs his hand along their side. "You know I would never give you anything that would hurt you."

"I know," David says, but he can barely bring himself to accept the most harmless painkillers. The medications they were forced to take hurt them, messed them up and gave them awful side effects. It was torture.

"That's because your body didn't need those medications," Melanie says. She's been relaying David's thoughts to Amahl since her arrival, and having her and Amahl replying to his thoughts feels achingly familiar.

"I know every inch of you," Amahl assures him. "I know exactly what your mind needs to heal. I will make a special formula just for you. Medication à la David. Cherry flavored?"

"Not everything has to be cherries," David grouches, even though he definitely wants it to be cherry flavored.

Amahl laughs, and the vibration goes into their body where it's pressed against Amahl's. "I think you're feeling better already." He gives them another rub, and then brings his other hand to rest over their heart. "You are safe with Amahl."

David hesitates, then brings their hand up over Amahl's, as he's been taught. "I'm safe with Amahl," he echoes, and focuses on the warm, solid weight of Amahl's hand.

"Wonderful," Amahl praises, as he does. "I'll get started as soon as we return to the lab. But you'll need to sit with Melanie while I work. Is that all right?"

David gives Melanie a wary look. He feels bad about his confused feelings towards her. He was so excited to finally meet another mutant— Only to be told he wasn't a mutant at all, and the monster that tortured him was. And she's so effortlessly powerful. He appreciates that she's here to help him, but—

Melanie gives him a sad smile. "I know, David. It's okay, I understand."

"Melanie is not just any mutant, David," Amahl gently chides. "She is my wife, the love of my life. I would never have asked her to help us if I did not completely trust her. She is a Farouk, like me, remember? She is part of me, and I am part of her. We are one, like all married couples should be."

David looks at Melanie's ring, a match with the one he feels under their palm. Melanie sees him looking at it and holds out her hand. David cautiously takes it, and feels the warm metal against both their hands.

He's safe with Amahl. So he's also safe with Melanie, because— They're one. So she's Amahl, too.

"Okay," he agrees.

§

Melanie doesn't touch David the way Amahl does. David's not sure if he wants her to or not. She holds their hand when Amahl has to step away to operate a scan or to work on something, like this new medication, but she keeps a polite distance between them. Maybe because she's his therapist. Amahl is the only doctor David's ever had who gave him touch to comfort him, and even though it's strange, it's what David needs. Without Divad and Dvd, he's starving for touch. Him not having touch is like— A fish not having water. He just can't survive without it.

And yet— Even if part of Melanie is Amahl— He's reluctant to do more than hold hands. He feels like he shouldn't, somehow.

They sit together and watch as Amahl carefully measures and mixes. It's soothing, watching him work, even though their stomach twists anxiously when David thinks about what he's making. The medication always made it hard to think, and it's already so hard to think. He barely exists at all as it is. What if the medication takes what's left of him away? What if it doesn't? What if Amahl is wrong and David can't be saved?

"Of course you can be saved, David," Melanie soothes, giving their hand a squeeze. "Everyone is worth saving."

"Everyone?" David asks, uncertain.

"That's what Amahl and I both believe," Melanie says. "Sometimes the people who need the most saving are those who think they deserve it the least. The world throws so many people away, David. That's why we have to save them."

"That's what you need me for," David says, half-asking.

"Amahl believes you're the key to a better future for everyone," Melanie says. "But even if you were just a perfectly ordinary patient, you'd still deserve to be healthy and happy." She smiles. "You truly are a perfectly ordinary patient, you know."

"I know," David says, and tries not to be disappointed by that. As miserable as his old life was, being normal now— He feels like he's lost so much. He doesn't know what will ever fill all that empty space inside him.

Amahl steps away from his lab and comes over, carrying a tray with two syringes. "No cherry flavor, I'm afraid."

"More needles?" David asks, unhappily. He's already Amahl's personal pincushion with all the tests they have to do every day. Their weekly spinal tap is tomorrow and David's already dreading it.

Amahl pulls a chair over and sits with them. "You'll start on a very low dose, so I can make sure your body accepts the medication correctly. Two shots a day. We'll do the other before bed."

David reaches for their sleeve, but hesitates. It's one thing for Amahl to take things out of them. But to put things into them?

"Do you think I would poison you, my dear?" Amahl asks, with mild offense.

"Of course not," David protests. "I just—" He eyes the syringes nervously.

"You don't want to feel worse," Amahl says, understanding. "It is that terrible emptiness we wish to salve. With time we will cure it completely, I promise you. But first you must be strong enough for the cure. Let me share my strength with you."

"Is that what's in there?" David asks, a nervous half-joke.

But Amahl takes it seriously. "Every treatment I give you, this is me sharing myself with you. And one day you will be strong enough to share yourself with me. That will make us both strong." He picks up the first syringe. "I want you to think of that every time we do this. I want you to feel me inside you and know that I am healing you."

David stares, swallows. Amahl can still be very— Intense, sometimes. Weirdly poetic. But the sentiment is reassuring anyway. David would rather think of Amahl than the actual drugs anyway.

"Very good," Amahl praises warmly. "Now give me your arm."

David rolls up their sleeve. Amahl opens a small packet and sterilizes a spot on their arm. "Just a pinch," Amahl says, and David squeezes Melanie's hand tightly as he feels the needle go in. The injection is slow and careful, a lot of liquid for a supposedly small dose, and David feels it all go in. Amahl withdraws the needle and cleans the tiny wound, then puts a band-aid over it.

"There," he says, resting his hand over the bandage. "All better." He rubs lightly at their arm, encouraging the medication to circulate. Then he tugs down their sleeve, smooths it.

David lets out a shaky breath. "How long?" he asks.

"It will take time for you to feel the change," Amahl says. "It will be very gradual. But you will start to feel less empty, less sad."

"Okay," David says, and puts their hand over their arm. Think of Amahl, not the drugs. It's just Amahl. Amahl won't hurt him. Amahl will make the pain stop.

Amahl touches his hand to their face, cups their cheek. "Such good, healthy thoughts. Nutritious thoughts. We will heal you together, hmm?"

David nods against Amahl's palm.

§

They all lie down for their usual afternoon nap, to make up for the lost sleep David caused. But David can't sleep. He tries to mirror Amahl and Melanie, to be quiet and still, but—

He doesn't like remembering. There wasn't much good about their life to remember before their surgery, and there's even less now. But as he lies in the dark, remembering is all he can do. He tries to make it stop, tries to think about anything else, but nothing stops the memories from coming at him, one after the other.

The drugs used to make them feel this way, sometimes. The antipsychotics. They made it hard to stay still, they made them restless and they were compelled to fidget and pace. Different drugs did different things to them, and the doctors were always trying different drugs, different combinations, trying to cure a disease they didn't have. Sometimes they felt so sleepy all the time. Sometimes they felt an unbearable anxiety on top of their already unbearable anxiety. And sometimes they felt blank and numb and empty, like nothing could ever matter again.

David remembers how their hands would shake. There was a teacher who got angry with them for their handwriting, called it sloppy and unreadable. They explained that they were on medication, but the teacher just— He said David needed to try harder. That was always everyone's answer to their problems. If he just tried harder— As if they weren't already putting everything they had into getting through that day, that hour, that minute. It was bad enough that David was sick, everyone thought. He was lazy, too, and that was unforgivable.

A failure. A burden on society. So tragic, he should never have been born.

David wipes at their eyes, trying hard to stay quiet.

Whatever Amahl gave him— It’s not an antipsychotic. Because they're not psychotic, they don't have schizophrenia. It took their whole life for them to find a doctor who finally accepted that and gave them the right help. They've finally been saved from the monster.

He's been saved. Divad and Dvd aren't here to know they've been saved, too. They're missing all of this. How could they miss it? He wonders how they would have reacted. Would they like Amahl, too? Divad probably would have. He wanted them to be a doctor one day. He wanted to help people once they found a way to stop the monster.

David's not sure if Dvd would have liked Amahl. Dvd didn't like anyone much. He'd probably tell David to be more careful, more suspicious. He'd say all of this was still a trick no matter how real it felt, no matter how persistently the sun rose and fell every single day. He'd say they didn't need help from anyone.

But they always needed help. They couldn't get it, but they still needed it. And now that David finally has help, it doesn't make any sense to resist it. Whatever needs to be done for them to heal— For him to heal— Then David should be grateful for it.

But he can't sleep. He can't stay still. He can't stop feeling like— Something's wrong. What if something's wrong? Amahl said— He said it was a low dose to make sure it didn't hurt them. But that means there's a chance it might hurt them. What if— Amahl's medication is why he's restless? What if it makes their hands shake? What if it makes them anxious? Their hands are trembling now. David already felt anxious, but— Now he's more anxious. What if he can't be helped? What if the only way to help him just makes everything worse?

He'll never sleep now. What if Amahl has to use drugs to make him sleep? What will that do to him? He told them he was too broken to save, he told them but they didn't listen. If he could just— Go away—

"Shh, shh." A hand touches their arm, and David flinches away from it, panicked.

"It's just Amahl," Amahl soothes, and touches them again. "You're safe with Amahl, remember?"

Their heart is racing, beating painfully fast. Amahl must have heard all of that, all of David's awful thoughts. He must be angry.

"Of course I'm not angry," Amahl soothes. "Come, sit up. Look at me."

David uncurls from the tense ball he'd pulled himself into, and drags himself upright. Their heart is still going too fast, and their hands are trembling, and he's so afraid— It has to be the drug, it has to be.

Amahl sits beside him, rests a hand on their arm, solid and steadying. "It’s not the medication, my dear. I promise. It will take days before the dose is even strong enough to start to help. You must trust that I would never do anything to hurt you."

"I know," David says. He knows that. But he's still afraid.

"This fear is not rational," Amahl says. "It's the monster's fear. You must give it back to the monster so you may be free of it."

"Give back my fear?" David asks, uncertain.

Amahl nods. "Like your schizophrenia. It was never yours. It belonged to the mutant who lived inside you. Surrender your fear, return it to its source."

David just looks at him in confusion.

"I know," Amahl says, fondly. "But you will learn. Melanie and I will teach you. Once the medication strengthens you, you will be ready to begin to release your delusions. The confusion, the division— They will be gone once you are whole."

All of that still feels beyond David. Even though it's been weeks since he woke up from his coma, and months since the monster was removed— It's hard to even imagine what it would actually be like to heal, much less— Whatever whole means. He's lost so much of himself. Wholeness seems utterly impossible.

"You have lost a great deal," Amahl admits. "But you are here and you are not alone. You must open yourself so that those empty spaces may be filled. Your old life is gone, my dear. But you are young. There is time to make a new one. You must— Prepare to be reborn."

"Reborn?" David echoes.

"Like a newborn baby," Amahl says, smiling. He reaches up to touch their cheek. "Did I ever tell you about my son?"

"No," David says, surprised. He thought Amahl and Melanie never had children.

"We did not," Amahl admits. "This was before I met Melanie, many years ago. I lost him to— A terrible accident."

"I'm sorry," David says, genuinely. He had no idea.

"You are very much like him," Amahl says, softly. "Or what I thought he would become. I could not accept the loss of him for many years. But now— I think perhaps I am ready. I am not so young," he admits. "But I too wish to be reborn. To be whole."

"You're not broken," David protests.

"You cannot see my broken heart," Amahl sighs. He drops his hand and takes David's, brings it to rest over his own heart. "You cannot know the pain of losing a child. A dear, precious son. It is a monstrous agony, blackening the heart. I refused to grieve and so my anger consumed me. I had no anchor. I lost myself."

He pauses. David feels caught in Amahl's gaze, unable to look away.

"But recently, I had time to— Find myself again," Amahl continues. "To put myself back together. It is a strange thing, to heal. Painful, frightening. But at the other side we find a beautiful sunrise. We find life from death, the poetry of gods. At the other side, we will both be whole."

It makes David feel a little bit less alone, to hear all that. To know— Amahl needs healing, too. "So, uh, I remind you of him?"

"Very much," Amahl says, meaningfully. "I had a name for him, my son. Joonam. It means— My dear, my life, my soul. That is what he was to me."

It gives David a strange feeling to hear that. He's not Amahl's son, and the idea of replacing a dead child— It's hardly comforting. And yet— It explains Amahl's easy affection with him. "That's why you call me 'my dear'?"

"It is," Amahl admits, bashful. "I will stop if it makes you uncomfortable."

"No," David protests, hurriedly. "No, it's— It's nice, I—" He swallows. "I lost my mom, years ago, and— I haven't talked to my dad in years." He glances away, then back to Amahl's eyes. "Joonam," he tries.

Amahl's eyes light with happiness. "Joonam," he says, and pulls David into a hug. "Del be del râh dâreh."

"What's that mean?" David asks.

"That we share a path," Amahl says. "Our hearts are connected."

"I guess they are," David says. He thinks about the food Amahl shares with him, the little stories he tells about them. How important they must be to him. "I, uh, don't know much about, um. Where are you from?"

"Many places," Amahl says, releasing him. "Egypt, Morocco, France, Germany. But my family is from Iran. It is an ancient country, rich with beauty and poetry."

"I never traveled, really," David admits. "I was sick, so—" He doesn't bother explaining the rest. "You traveled a lot?"

Amahl gets a pleased look. "Would you like me to tell?"

"Please," David says. He needs the distraction to keep him from worrying about the medication. And he wants to get to know Amahl better. He's not just David's doctor anymore, he's more than that. David hasn't ever had friends. He had his system and his family, but it was too dangerous to have anyone else. But the monster is gone now. Maybe— Amahl could be— His friend? His first-ever friend. It feels strange to even think it.

"I would be honored, joonam," Amahl says, warmly.

Chapter 111: Interlude III: Love can also be a kind of torture. (Past David)

Notes:

TW: Farouk being the worst.

Chapter Text

David lets Amahl give him his medication shots twice every day, in the morning and before bed. After each shot, to keep David from getting upset, Amahl sits with him and tells him a story about his adventures around the world. A small story each time, about something he saw or did or ate, about moments of excitement or joy or sadness.

It's soothing, like the stories Dad used to tell them when they were little. David barely remembers anything about those stories after so long, but he remembers the feeling. They were afraid to sleep because of the nightmares, because of the monster, but Dad reading to them soothed them, helped them feel safe enough to close their eyes. It didn't stop the nightmares, of course. Nothing stops the nightmares, not even now. But for his shot before bed, when Amahl tells him another story— It helps David feel safe enough to close their eyes.

As Amahl promised, as the days pass David does start to feel less empty, less sad. It gets a little easier to see past his pain, to engage with the world. The need to make everything stop gets— Less urgent. David can see the relief in Amahl and Melanie, and honestly he's relieved himself. He thinks of Amahl's strength going into him with each shot, filling up the empty spaces, filling in the cracks so the brittle pieces of him are held and protected. And the stories feel like a kind of medication too, letting David see the world through Amahl's eyes, giving him a taste of everything he never had a chance to experience himself.

And through the stories, he gets to know Amahl. This doctor, this man who did so many amazing things, who traveled and learned languages and learned to heal. Who lost his son and then his wife, and then met Melanie when they were both volunteering for rescue efforts in China. David feels closer to him with every story, and more grateful for how much Amahl has saved him.

Amahl has a dream to make the world better. David wants to be part of that dream, he wants to be Amahl's key. He just has to get strong enough to be that. Amahl takes care of their body, but David's mind needs to be strong too, and for that he needs Melanie.

His sessions with Melanie started very slow. In order for Melanie to help him, she needs to know everything he remembers about his old life. It's painful to even think about all of that, much less talk about it, so at first David barely spoke at all and simply let Melanie read what few thoughts he dared to think. But as Amahl's medication has strengthened him, he's been able to remember more, even to talk a little about what happened.

It's still— Remembering is agony. But at the end of each session, Amahl is waiting for him with open arms. David rests in his embrace and lets Amahl soothe him, stroke his hair, call him joonam and tell him how well he's doing, how strong he's becoming, how good it is that he's letting them help him.

Amahl is so fatherly towards him, it makes David think a lot about his real father. His real family. After Mom died— Everything about home was painful. He pulled away from Dad and Amy, and then— Divad had to take over for him because he was a mess, he was out of control, he was ruining their life. Dad and Amy loved Divad so much more than they loved David. They were so much happier with him in charge. So even though Dvd always wanted to know when David would be back in charge— David accepted that Divad knew what was best for them.

It wasn't so bad. He still had Dvd. But it was almost like— Losing Mom made him an orphan.

"When you're strong enough, I think it would be good for you to see them again," Melanie says, when he thinks about his family during their daily session. "Give them a chance to patch things up."

David shakes their head firmly. He doesn't feel remotely ready yet. He's not even sure he wants to be ready. He's only just starting to feel able to tolerate his own existence. If he sees them again and— All they are is disappointed in him— It would set him back, he knows it.

"They might surprise you," Melanie offers. "They're your family. What happened to you must have been a terrible shock for them. I know you're not ready now, but— Don't deny yourself the chance to be with them again."

"I'll think about it," David says, relenting. But he's not going to make any promises beyond that.

Melanie gives him a pleased smile anyway. "We've come a long way to get to that," she tells him. "Let's keep going. We've spent a lot of time on memory work, but now I think you're ready to start making progress in other areas."

"Like what?" David asks, warily.

"Like with how you think about your body," Melanie says. "Even though you've been alone in your body for months, you still think of it as 'our' body. As your system's body."

"Yeah," David admits. Because it is their body.

"You're still waiting for Divad and Dvd to come back," Melanie says. "You don't want to give up on them."

"I won't," David says, firmly. Everything they went through together, everything they suffered— he refuses to give up on them.

"David," Melanie says, more serious. "You need to accept the truth. DID identities can't be removed. If you were truly a system, they would still be with you now."

"They weren't the monster," David says, angrily. He knows they weren't. Nothing will convince him they were the monster.

Melanie leans back in the loveseat and gives him a considering look. "We've talked a lot about the way Divad and Dvd treated you. You understand that what they did to you was abusive?"

"Yes," David sighs, annoyed.

Melanie isn't convinced. "You understand it, but you don't accept it."

"All that stuff is just how we work," David defends.

"Worked," Melanie corrects. "Even if you refuse to accept what they were— They're gone, David. They're not here. You are the only one in your body. You're not sharing it with anyone, not Divad and Dvd, not the monster."

Tears well in their eyes when she says that. David wipes at them angrily. "They'll come back," he insists, like he's insisted over and over for months. Divad and Dvd would never leave him. They're a system. They protect each other, no matter what it costs.

"If they'd never leave you, why aren't they here?" Melanie asks.

"I don't know," David admits. "Something happened to them. Maybe it was the surgery."

"We've been over this, David," Melanie says, patiently. "There was brain damage from the monster, but Amahl was very careful to get the monster out without hurting you."

"Well maybe he's wrong," David says, stubbornly.

"We can look at the scans again," Melanie offers, reasonably. "Would you like to see your scan from this morning?"

"No," David says. He doesn't care how many times they show him their brain, it won't change how he feels. He rubs at their eyes again and tries not to feel how alone he is in their body, how empty and incomplete he feels without Divad and Dvd. They have to come back, they have to.

"Okay," Melanie says, accepting. "Do you feel up to doing some more memory work today?"

"No," David says. He looks away from her and wraps their arms around himself. He doesn't want to do anything else today. This was awful and now he feels awful and he just wants to be alone.

Melanie gets up, and David watches her go speak telepathically with Amahl. He can't hear what they say about him, but when they finish, Amahl comes over and sits with him on the sofa, like he always does. Amahl opens his arms and David goes to him, buries their face against Amahl's shoulder.

It hurts so much, he thinks, knowing Amahl will hear. Why does it have to hurt so much?

"I know, joonam," Amahl soothes, rubbing their back. He presses a kiss to their head.

David cries a little. It feels safe to cry with Amahl. He's safe with Amahl.

"You are, my sweet boy," Amahl soothes. "So safe with Amahl. Shh." He strokes their hair, kisses their head again.

David clings to him, but as close as they are— It's not enough. Having him on the outside isn't enough, but— There's no way for Amahl to be a part of him the way Divad and Dvd were. Are. No one on the outside can ever become a part of their system, and Amahl is an outside person. David has to force himself to remember that, these days. He doesn’t want to remember that.

Amahl's grip on him tightens, as if he wants them to be together, too. He doesn't, he's not like David, he's never shared his body with anyone so he can't miss it. But it feels like he wants it anyway, yearns for it like David does.

"The pain will go away," Amahl says, soft in David's ear. "I will make you whole, I promise. But first you must let the monster go."

David tenses in Amahl's embrace. "They're not—"

"Shh, I know," Amahl soothes. "You loved your monster. You trusted it with yourself, with your heart. You surrendered everything to it. You do not want to accept that it hurt you."

David pulls back, but Amahl keeps a loose hold on him. "The monster tortured me. I know that."

"Love can also be a kind of torture," Amahl says, softly. "An inescapable prison. Even physical separation cannot break us free. All these years without my son, and still I love him."

The reminder startles David out of his self-pity. "I'm sorry," he says, though it feels inadequate.

"Your love for these masks is your prison," Amahl tells him. "Once we give our love, even the deepest betrayal cannot free us, no matter how we’re wounded."

David looks away, swallows. "Then what am I supposed to do?" he asks, desperately needing an answer.

"These are not questions for doctors, therapists," Amahl says. "They are for poets. Poetry is the medicine of the soul. When I was young I was dismissive of such things, but— We do not judge our gods on their math, but their poetry. It is not about the thing done. It is the beauty of the journey, the grand sunrise. And does not every day bring a new sunrise?"

The morning has never been David's favorite part of the day. Waking up has always meant having to face another long day, and even though the monster is gone, the days still feel very long.

"So what do the poets say?" David asks.

"Many things," Amahl says, amused. "Hafez said that reason is like a raindrop on the ocean that is love. It makes a little mark and then disappears."

"Hafez?"

"A great poet of Iran," Amahl explains. "If love cannot be escaped, it must be— Embraced. Transformed. We must make it into what we need it to be."

David frowns, confused as ever by Amahl's poetic tendencies. "Okay, but— What does that actually mean?"

Amahl chuckles. "'Last night I dreamed of one I loved for seven long years, but I saw no face. Only the familiar presence of the body.' That one comes from your Ginsberg."

David scowls at him, and crosses his arms. "That's not helpful either."

"Then Hafez again," Amahl says. "'Open my grave when I am dead, and you will see a cloud of smoke rising out from it. Then shall you know that the fire still burns in my dead heart.'"

"Cheerful," David mutters.

"You are too easy to tease, joonam," Amahl says, pleased with himself. "Your view of the world— It is a child's view. Through no fault of your own, of course. How can you be anything but a child when you have not been allowed to live? To grow?"

"The monster did that to me," David says, angrily. "And you're telling me what, I'm supposed to accept that I loved it?"

"It is a fact that you did," Amahl says, simply. "It is your denial that hurts you, that makes you war with yourself. What you must do is accept. Accept that you loved the monster, and that it is the monster's absence that you yearn to mend."

"You think I want that thing back?" David asks, disturbed.

"Again, these are facts," Amahl says. "You knew no other life but the one you shared with it. The monster was your world. No part of you was untouched. But it is also a fact that your suffering was terrible, unbearable. Your mind cannot reconcile that suffering with the yearning you feel now. The result is a delusion: that these masks, Divad and Dvd, were not masks; that they were parts of you that can be restored."

"No," David insists. "It's impossible."

"And King?" Amahl prompts. "Was your love for King impossible?"

David feels that like a physical blow. "I didn't know what he was."

"And when you were told?" Amahl asks. "What did you do then?"

David looks away, ashamed.

"Come on," Amahl coaxes. "What did you do?"

"I didn't believe it," David mumbles. It seemed absolutely impossible for King to be the monster. King was— David loved him so much. The loss of him never stopped hurting, not even after all these years.

"Exactly," Amahl says. "It's the same. The loss of King and Divad and Dvd will never stop hurting. But until you accept the truth, you cannot heal."

"What does healing even mean if it's always going to hurt?" David asks.

"A question for the ages," Amahl says. "One with many answers. But here is one: if I had not begun to heal from the loss of my son, I would not have been able to open my heart to you."

The weight of the answer gives David pause. He meets Amahl's eyes but doesn't know what to say.

"Say you will try to do the same," Amahl says. "Fight this delusion, this sickness. Accept the truths I have shown you. Your heart wants to heal, joonam. Do not try to stop it."

Amahl rests his hand over their heart, and reflexively David puts their hand over his. He looks away again, upset that Amahl wants him to give up on Divad and Dvd— And upset because—

What if they are like King? What if they are? David had that dog for years and never doubted it, loved it unconditionally until it turned on them. But that only happened after— After Dvd and Divad appeared. If the monster— If it gave up that mask because it had something better—

No. No, it’s impossible. They’re a system, the monster couldn’t trick him into thinking it was part of his system.

Except— If the monster was his system— Like it was his powers—

But if that’s true—

“Shh, shh,” Amahl hushes, stopping his thoughts. “We have taken the first step. We must walk very carefully together or you will hurt yourself. There is no need to rush.”

“But—“

“No more today,” Amahl orders, gently. “You are safe with Amahl. Always remember that.”

“I do,” David promises, focusing on Amahl’s warm palm against their chest. His chest? Their chest?

He doesn’t know anymore.

He lets Amahl pull him close again, and holds on to him. The whole thing has left David more than a little unsettled. It feels like— Standing at the edge of a cliff with their eyes closed. He doesn't want to open them and look down and see how far he’ll fall with one step forward—

“Do not think about it anymore today,” Amahl urges. “Ah! But it’s time for your massage." He draws David back and gives him a warm smile. "Go get ready and lie down for me."

David nods. He goes over to the privacy screen by his bed and undresses. There's a towel there for him and he wraps it around their waist, but— He still hesitates before he walks out from the screen.

"Still so shy, joonam," Amahl teases, which only makes David flush.

Amahl pats the bed, and David obediently lies down on their front. Amahl lifts away the towel, then drapes it back in place. Even though they do this every day, at the start David is always tense. Maybe because it's so similar to how they are for the tests they do in the morning, when David lies down under Amahl's care wearing only a thin hospital gown. At least there are no straps for this.

"There is nothing to fear," Amahl soothes. "Your body carries much pain, but I will take the pain away. Let me?"

Amahl still asks for David's permission, even though it feels like there's no boundaries between them. "Please," David says. Moments like this always make their stomach flutter.

"My beautiful boy," Amahl soothes, and strokes their back along their spine. "Of course I will."

Amahl oils his hands and gets to work on their body, wringing the stress from every inch of it. The force of it is punishing, almost brutal, pushing the air from their chest. But after the pain comes a euphoric glow, a warm contentment that fills David from head to toe. Amahl touches him entirely and David is putty in his hands.

"Time to turn over, joonam," Amahl murmurs. He lifts the towel, and David musters the strength to turn onto their back. He flushes as their erection is exposed, but Amahl just lays the towel back down over it.

The first time it happened, David was painfully embarrassed and almost worked himself into a panic attack when Amahl told him to turn over. But Amahl explained to him that it was a perfectly natural reaction for their body to have. This is your body healing, Amahl told him. Lie still. Let it happen.

So David lets it happen. Amahl keeps massaging him, and when it's done David feels too boneless to move. And it's not like he could hurry off to the bathroom to take care of things in private. Every thought he has is relayed to Amahl by Melanie, who sits in a meditative pose on a loveseat between meals and therapy, and when she isn't needed to help Amahl with something. Sometimes David even forgets she's there. With her eyes closed, it's almost like she's sleeping.

All of that means David has to simply wait for his arousal to fade. It does eventually, but— It reminds him of how much he misses Dvd. Dvd always liked making them feel good together. He thinks of Dvd now, longingly, but— With a twinge of uncertain fear. If Dvd was really just the monster—

"Shh, shh," Amahl hushes, petting their hair. "Don't upset yourself."

"I'm trying," David sighs. Being told not to think about it only seems to make it harder to not think about it.

"Get dressed," Amahl says. "We'll have dinner."

Amahl helps him sit up, and David grips the towel as he returns to the privacy screen. He dresses and tries to stay focused on other things. He can't think about his session with Melanie, so he thinks about Amahl. The good feelings Amahl gives their body, the way Amahl comforts him, takes care of him, makes everything feel—

Like having a system again. It's not the same, it can't be, but— There was such an enormous, gaping wound in him when he woke up from the coma. He couldn't even begin to imagine surviving without Divad and Dvd. He still wants them back, he misses them so much—

But Amahl helps. If it wasn't for Amahl, David wouldn't have survived. Amahl is always there for him, soothing him, taking care of their body, helping him think and feel. David is so grateful to him. It feels even more important to become strong enough to be Amahl's key, because that will mean they can stay together. Amahl is a doctor, and that means one day he'll have other patients. So David has to be what Amahl needs. That’s exactly how things were with his system. They would always do anything for each other.

Amahl steps out briefly to accept their dinner from their assistant. David still hasn't seen them. Even though he's getting better now, Amahl has said it's still very important to limit David's social contact. He's seen no one but Amahl and Melanie for months. Even the garden they go to is closed off to visitors during their lunch, and they have their own private elevator. Amahl's work must be very important for the hospital to agree to all of this. David still understands very little about how Amahl intends to use him to cure madness, but David trusts him. Whatever Amahl wants, David wants to give him.

Amahl's mom makes dishes to go along with Amahl's stories about travel, from different cuisines and countries. Today is Parisian, matching Amahl's story that morning about visiting the Eiffel Tower and what it was like to look down on all of Paris from high above.

"Le Hachis Parmentier," Amahl explains, portioning out their servings of the meat pie casserole, covered in mashed potatoes and a sauce. "Named after the inventor of the potato."

"Potatoes were invented?" David asks, skeptical.

Amahl chuckles. "The French believed them too dangerous to eat. Fit only for the pigs. Parmentier had to trick people into wanting to eat them. He did this by putting armed guards around them so they were thought to be valuable. Then he had the guards withdraw for the night or accept bribes. The potatoes were stolen, which was his goal."

"Wow, that's— Sneaky," David says, impressed. He'd never have thought of something like that.

"It was for a very good cause," Amahl says. "In Paris, there are streets named after him, statues made in his honor. His name is praised when people eat their meals. He's like a god to them, because he gave them what they did not know know they needed. And now they cannot imagine their lives without his gift."

David tries a forkful of the casserole. "It's really good," he says. He imagines armed guards escorting bags of potatoes into the supermarket. He smiles and takes another bite, and thinks about all the things the world wouldn't have without potatoes. No french fries! Parmentier definitely did the right thing.

After dinner, Amahl gives David his second shot of the day. This time it's in their thigh, and Amahl rubs the injection site, encouraging the medication to circulate. David still tenses up from the shot, but he does what Amahl taught him. He imagines the medication is a piece of Amahl going inside him, strengthening him, healing him. The dose is strong now, and David can almost feel it helping him as he rests in Amahl's embrace, listening to him talk about Paris.

When bedtime comes, David feels his anxiety rising. He's so tired of the nightmares. He asked Amahl for something to make them stop, but Amahl said that there was nothing. After today's session— David is afraid of what his nightmares will be tonight. He doesn't want to face them alone.

"Um, Amahl," he says, before they lie down on their separate beds. "I was wondering, um—" He looks at Amahl's bed, at his own. Amahl probably already knows what he's thinking, so if he's waiting then it's because he wants David to say it aloud. "Could we— Push our beds together?"

Amahl smiles, pleased. "Would it help you sleep?"

David nods. "I don't— Want to be alone," he admits. He'd feel safer with Amahl. He always feels safe with Amahl.

"Then you will not be alone," Amahl promises.

They push their beds together and snuggle close, sharing a blanket. David is the little spoon, and he sighs in Amahl's arms, feels the warmth of his breath against their neck, feels their bodies together. It's not exactly like sharing a body, but it might be as close as he'll ever get again.

"Such sweet thoughts," Amahl murmurs in their ear. He rests his hand over their heart. "Now sleep, joonam. Sleep knowing you are safe."

David rests their hand over Amahl's and closes their eyes.

Chapter 112: Interlude III: Our little secret. (Past David)

Notes:

TW: Farouk still being the worst.

Chapter Text

David startles awake up from their afternoon nap, his throat tight and his heart beating too fast. Another nightmare, always another nightmare.

But he doesn't scream anymore. The nightmares are easier to take now that he always sleeps with Amahl. He lets the terror fall away and focuses on the feeling of Amahl pressed against his back, his arm solidly around him, his leg between David's legs. They've been sleeping this way ever since David asked to bring their beds together, and when David wakes and feels Amahl holding him as close as he can, their bodies tangled together, he calms right away.

It's his body. It took a long time and a lot of patient work with Amahl and Melanie for him to accept it, to accept that Divad and Dvd were just another King, two more masks the monster used to manipulate and abuse him. But accepting it has helped the nightmares, too. He still sees them every time he sleeps, yelling at him and hurting him, telling him to kill himself and— Using him—

But the monster and its masks are gone. All of those horrors are over. David's starting to truly believe that Amahl can take his pain away. This new life is Amahl's gift, and David is grateful for it beyond words. His body may be his alone, but his life is unquestionably Amahl's. Amahl saved him, is still saving him. David owes him everything.

Amahl stirs in his sleep, pulling David closer, holding him tighter, nuzzling against his hair, and David gives a contented sigh. He still fantasizes about Amahl replacing the monster's system, his body becoming their body again. A new "they", just for the two of them. But it's just a fantasy, an impossible dream. The reality is that they're separate people with separate bodies. Amahl is his doctor and his friend and something of a father figure to him, but they can't really be anything more. The better David gets, the more he recognizes that. Eventually David will be strong enough to be Amahl's key, and then after that— Amahl will have to move on, to help other patients. That's what doctors do. David hopes they'll still be friends, close friends, but— One day they'll have to live their own, separate lives again.

And then? David doesn't know. He doesn't like to think about that.

For now they're together. And David would be content to lie quietly in Amahl's embrace until Amahl wakes up — Amahl and Melanie can be deep sleepers now that David doesn't scream them awake anymore — but he hears the sound of footsteps in the hall.

No one should be in the hall. No one should be swiping their card on the lab door lock, and definitely no one should be opening the door and walking in.

David isn't supposed to speak with anyone except Amahl and Melanie. It's been months since he woke up and, apart from the cars on the roads outside, the people he sees walking down on the sidewalk or past the garden walls, David hasn't even seen anyone but the Farouks. And now—

David squeezes his eyes shut. He can't do anything to hurt Amahl or his work. He shakes Amahl's arm but he doesn't even stir. David hears the intruder typing on Amahl's computer, and worries they're trying to steal Amahl's work. David knows he has to do something. Melanie could stop the intruder without even lifting a finger, but he can't reach her to nudge her awake.

He'll just get whoever it is out quickly. Chasing an intruder out of the lab should barely count as social contact. David might not have mutant powers anymore, but he's not going to let the people he cares about get hurt. He opens his eyes and slips out of Amahl's embrace, then quietly slides to the floor and ducks down. He needs to see what he's dealing with.

It's a woman about David's age, maybe a little older. She's wearing all black and her straight blonde hair is pulled into pigtails. The glow from Amahl's computer monitor illuminates her face, showing pale blue eyes and a focused, serious expression.

She's beautiful.

No, stay focused. It doesn't matter what she looks like, she shouldn't be here at all. He looks around for something to use as a weapon, but of course the lab was suicide-proofed ages ago. He'll just have to confront her empty-handed.

He braces himself and then stands up from his crouch and marches over to her. "I don't know who you are, but you don't belong here," David says, as sternly as he can. "Get out or I'll throw you out."

The woman looks at him, then turns back to the computer and continues typing. "You're supposed to be asleep," she says, like all this is his fault. "For another fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty."

"You know how long I sleep?" David asks, astonished. "Who are you?"

She doesn't reply. She finishes whatever she was doing and stands. She's at least six inches shorter than him, but somehow David's the one who ends up with his back against the counter.

"You're going to go back to bed," she tells him, like a command. "You're not going to say anything. This is going to be— Our little secret." She raises a gloved hand, presses two fingers to her lips, and then steps away. She walks calmly to the door, swipes her card, and then she's gone.

David stares, completely bewildered and weirdly turned on. What just happened? Who is she? He has to tell Amahl, of course he does, this is— This risks compromising all of Amahl's work, David can't possibly let that happen. He can't see this mystery woman ever again.

He goes to the door, belatedly, but it's already locked. He hears the elevator open and close, and feels—

He tries the door again, even though he knows it won't open. Even though she's already gone.

He immediately has a thousand questions, none of which she's here to answer. She knows when he sleeps? She has an access card? He goes to look at Amahl's computer but she reset the terminal. He can't even find what she was looking at.

Of course he has to tell Amahl. He has to wake Amahl and Melanie up right away and tell them so they can make sure that woman can't ever come back. Of course he has to do that.

He thinks about her black-gloved fingers, pressed against her lips. Our little secret. Who is she? If he doesn't say anything— Will she ever come back?

He thinks about her wide blue eyes, her lips, her— The curve of her waist— And he suddenly feels so many feelings—

All these months, every day has been almost the same. The details change: the stories Amahl tells, the food they eat, the things he talks about with Melanie. He's gotten better and he and Amahl have grown closer. But there's a sameness to every day, blurring everything together, and until now nothing has broken it. He didn't want to break it. What he was given was more than enough.

Suddenly, it's not enough anymore.

He won't think about it. He can't think about it without Amahl finding out. So he does exactly what she told him to do. He goes back to bed, tucks himself back into Amahl's embrace, and tucks their little secret down deep. He feels a twinge of guilt as Amahl pulls him close again, but he's used to guilt. He can live with a little guilt, for the chance to see this woman again.

§

David doesn't know how he manages to not think about the mystery woman for the rest of the day, but when night comes she breaks into his dreams as easily as she broke into the lab. He wakes up not from his usual nightmares but with an erection that won't go away just by waiting it out. Amahl and Melanie are still asleep, thank god, so he sneaks into the bathroom and takes care of it as quickly and quietly as he can.

Afterwards, he sits on the toilet lid and tries to grapple with these sudden feelings. He's never felt like this before. It was never safe to want anyone, to be close to anyone. He couldn't even have friends, much less— Sudden infatuations with strange women. The monster would use something like that to manipulate him, to torture him. It would make him so absolutely vulnerable.

But the monster is gone, the monster and his masks. David hasn't been ready yet to talk to Melanie about— What the Dvd mask did to him. What the monster did to him. She knows the basics, of course, but—

David's heart hurts even thinking about it at all. He loved Dvd, just like he loved King, but more, deeper. He gave Dvd everything, even though what he had to give was so little. And it was all a trick, just one more awful, gutting trick.

He lets his tears fall, for once not seeking to escape his pain. Maybe he needs to feel how much it hurts so he doesn't make the same mistake again. Maybe loving anyone is a mistake. It's hard to remember that when Amahl's love is unrelenting, like a tide that never stops coming in. David never really had the choice to refuse Amahl. He doesn't want to, he can't imagine giving him up, but— Now that he's healing, looking back at those early days—

His head is swirling with thoughts, with feelings he can't begin to untangle. All because of this woman. He feels like— She woke him up. But he's not sure he wanted to be woken up. He was happy in his little bubble with Amahl. It wasn't perfect, of course. All those tests, the nightmares, the therapy sessions— But it was a kind of perfect.

And now he suddenly wants something else. Something more, something— He's not sure he's supposed to have. He's definitely not allowed to have it, not if the only people he can see are his doctors. He's probably already ruined everything just by talking to her. He should have told Amahl right away, and now—

He doesn't know what to do. It already feels like that one little secret has snowballed into something unmanageable. He wonders if maybe the whole thing was just one of his hallucinations. He hasn't had one of those for a while, the scans show his brain damage is healing well, but— Sometimes reality still feels fuzzy at the edges. Maybe all of this is one big hallucination, or a dream he'll wake up from. He'll be back at college and the monster will be in charge again. He'll be a delusional prisoner, a torture victim no one can save. It's still miraculous to him that he was ever saved.

It's that thought that sobers him, that brings him back to reality. What he wants doesn't matter, it can't matter. Amahl saved him for a reason: so David could be useful to him and to the world. He saved David so David can be his key, not so David can betray him, fail him, ruin his life's work. And for what, for some— Random infatuation? He's never been allowed to love anyone that way. He should know that nothing has changed. Who would ever want him anyway? He's worthless, he knows that. He's always known that. No matter how much Amahl and Melanie heal him, that will never change.

He looks at the scars on his hand, his arms. They're healed now, and Amahl's treatments made them heal better than David thought possible. But they'll never go away. Unless he wears gloves like that woman, for the rest of his life people will look at him and they'll know. They'll see what he did to himself and they'll know what it means.

They make him angry, the scars. Angry that they're there, betraying him. Angry that he couldn't finish the job, angry that he tried. He finally has the chance to think on his own for what must be the first time since Melanie came, and all he can do is stare at his scars and feel too many things at once. This is why he's no good on his own. What will he do when Amahl doesn't need him anymore? There won't be any point to him. He'll just be done.

He hasn't wanted to hurt himself in a while. Amahl's been so good at keeping him from hurting himself. David put all that at risk for nothing. He has to tell Amahl the truth and hope it's not too late. If it's too late—

He glances at the mirror, but it's not real glass anymore. It's some kind of safety mirror, plastic and unbreakable. It's not completely impossible for him to hurt himself if he really tries, but—

He walks out of the bathroom and stares out the window. The city is full of lights, even at this late hour. Sometimes it feels like even though the monster is gone, nothing has changed at all. Amahl has helped him so much, done so much for him, but he's still damaged, still a burden, still unable to function on his own. He's not sure exactly what day it is, but— It'll probably be his twenty-first birthday soon. Divad thought by then, they'd have the monster out.

Divad. Dvd.

They're not just gone, they were never real. They were everything to him, they were all that mattered, they were the only reason he kept going— And they were a trick. The monster's masks, just like King. He was tricked into loving the monster over and over. He must be so stupid, to fall for it every time. Divad always said he was gullible.

But Divad was the monster.

Amahl was right. He loved the monster, he trusted it with everything he was, he let it completely into his heart. And it hurt him, it tortured him, it made his life a living hell. He gave it everything and it still took. It didn't have to take, so the taking must have been the point.

They haven't talked about it much, but Melanie said the monster was a mutant. It was an actual person, someone whose mind got separated from their body, so their mind attached itself to his body to stay alive. David can't help but wonder what kind of person would do that, would take over a defenseless baby and torture it mercilessly for twenty years. He lived with the monster his whole life and he still can't imagine it. It's just completely beyond him. Maybe that's because he's a stupid idiot with a lot of brain damage, but—

He touches his chest. He never had a system or a monster, but a whole separate person who lived inside him for all those years. It's a deeply disturbing and incredibly strange thing to think about. Did that person— enjoy living inside him? Is that why they did all of that? Were they unspeakably cruel before it all happened, or did becoming a mental parasite make them that way? David feels a pang of regret that he never had a chance to actually— Talk to them, face to face. To ask them why. Maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. Maybe confronting them would have only made things worse. But there's such a huge hole in him, still, and he needs to understand the person who made him that way. Who felt the need to— Hollow him out. And he never will.

Somehow that's what he grieves most, tonight, out of all the things he has to grieve.

He doesn't go back to bed. He doesn't deserve Amahl's comfort tonight. He never deserved it to begin with, but Amahl gave it anyway. He sits on the sofa and looks out the window, looks at the lights of the city and the smoggy clouds and wishes he could see the stars.

§

Something’s different. That’s what David thinks as he wakes up. Every day has been the same for so long. But he’s not in bed with Amahl, tangled up in his tight embrace. He fell asleep on the sofa, and now the sun is already up. He rubs his face and sits up, disoriented.

He didn't wake up from a nightmare. Not from any dream. He just— Woke up. Strange.

He smells coffee, breakfast, and turns to see Amahl and Melanie at the table.

"Ah, finally awake," Amahl says. "David. Come join us."

David. Not joonam? David wonders if something's wrong, and then he remembers—

He sits down at the table. Just the smell of the café serré is enough to start clearing his head, and he automatically reaches for his own cup. But nothing is set out for him. Of course not, if they let him sleep late—

"David," Melanie says, sounding concerned. "Is there something you'd like to tell us?"

"Something?" David echoes, uncertain. He tries to keep his mind completely blank, but of course that only makes him think about what he's supposed to avoid thinking about.

"Perhaps you had a bad dream?" Amahl offers. "But if you were upset, surely you would have come to me, let me help you."

David's not sure if what happened yesterday was actually real. Maybe it was just a dream. It's not like he has any proof she was ever here—

"She?" Melanie asks, frowning.

"Um," David starts, but— Did it happen? He thought it was real, but— Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe he's just so used to the same awful nightmares that— He got confused. Reality has always been somewhat— Difficult to hold on to, what with the monster and the brain damage—

"You were gone when I woke up," Amahl says, hurt. "I was very worried. So many terrible things could have happened during the night."

"I'm sorry," David says, regretful. "I just— Needed to think."

"About what, my dear?" Amahl asks. "What could you have possibly needed to think about that you could not share with me?"

David feels his face heat.

"There's no need to be shy," Amahl says. "There are no boundaries between us, yes? No secrets?"

"No secrets," David agrees, but— He glances away, to the door.

Amahl frowns. "Perhaps your body is rejecting the medication. There are other formulations I can try. Ones with harsh side effects, but if that's what necessary—"

"Please don't," David says, alarmed. He doesn't want side effects, please no. "It's not the medication. Your medication helps, please don't—" He hasn't had his shot yet this morning, he's overdue. Maybe that's what's wrong with him. Something must be wrong with him to make him— For him to keep things from Amahl. Amahl has to know everything or he can't make the pain stop. David wants the pain to stop, of course he does, he just—

Just what? He's sick. He's delusional. He doesn't deserve to have— He's so stupid and ungrateful—

Usually when his thoughts hurt him, Amahl soothes him. But Amahl just sits there, waiting.

David should just say it. He knows he should. But he just— He wanted—

God, what if it's already too late? What if Amahl can't use him anymore? He's so stupid and useless, he ruins everything, he always has. He's not capable of making good decisions, Divad always—

Divad.

Divad wasn't real. The monster—

The monster knew what was best for him. That's what it always said. What if it did? And now it's gone and—

"I'm sorry," David says, throat tight. "I don't know if it was real but— I thought—" He glances at the door again. "Someone came in. A woman, she— I tried to stop her, but—" He swallows. "I tried to wake you up."

"This was last night?" Amahl asks, soberly.

God, it just gets worse. "Yesterday," David admits. "During our nap. She did something on the computer, I don't—"

"And you didn't say anything?" Amahl asks. "You had hours to tell me, and you said nothing?"

"She said not to tell!" David protests.

"Ah," Amahl says, knowingly. "And you obeyed her, just like that?"

David doesn't know how to answer that. He just felt like he had to.

Amahl takes a sip of his coffee, sets the cup down. "Would you obey her again?"

David stares. "I— I don't know," he admits.

"You want to," Amahl says. "This power she has over you. You want to obey even though it could cost you everything I have given you."

David hunches in on himself, expecting the worst. What will happen to him? If Amahl abandons him— He can't go back to college or his family— He can't be on his own— "Please," he begs.

Amahl gives him a hard, considering look— And then he softens. "You are very fortunate, David, that I am a forgiving man. And also that this woman you wish to obey so much— Is my daughter."

David gapes. "What—" He thought— They didn't have any—

No. No, they— Amahl didn't have another son. Of course they have a daughter, David remembers— Melanie said— She's away at school—

The card lock gives a soft beep, and the lab door opens— And there she is, blonde hair in pigtails, ice-blue eyes. David tenses warily.

"It's all right," Amahl says. "Please, join us."

Amahl's daughter sits down between Melanie and Amahl. "David," she says, staring him down. "What did I tell you?"

"Not to tell," David admits. "But— I had to." He looks at Amahl, then back to Amahl's daughter. "I'm not supposed to have any secrets."

"No," Amahl's daughter agrees. "You dreamed about me last night. You want me."

David looks at Melanie, betrayed.

"Ah, ah," Amahl says. "No secrets. We must know every part of you, my dear, no matter how intimate. You are too important. Unless— You no longer wish to be my key?"

"No, of— of course—" David stammers. "Please. I just— What's happening? I don't understand."

"It's very simple," Amahl's daughter says. "I've been assisting my dad with his work. Just like my mom." She smiles at Melanie, and Melanie smiles back. She turns back to David. "I was in med school when he found you and saved your life. When you woke up, he asked for my help. His dream is very important, more important than anything else."

Med school? "You're, uh, a doctor?" David asks, seizing on the first thing that makes sense.

"Almost," Amahl's daughter says. "But I am one of your doctors, David. And yesterday was part of your therapy."

"It was?" David asks, leaning back.

Amahl's daughter nods. "We needed to test you to see how you were progressing."

"How, uh— How did I do?" David asks, bracing himself.

"As expected," Amahl says. "For the most part. There were some surprises." He smiles. "But not all bad." He turns to his daughter. "But where are our manners? Please, introduce yourself to our patient."

"I'm Syd," Amahl's daughter says. "Sydney Farouk." She holds out a gloved hand, and David cautiously takes it.

"I'm David," David says, reflexively. "Obviously. Um." He lets go, looks around. "This is all— Really confusing."

"I've read all your test results," Syd says. "Your brain damage is healing well."

"You know how long I sleep," David says, remembering his surprise.

"I know everything my dad knows," Syd says. "Everything.”

Oh god. "I'm really sorry," David says, cringing.

"It's okay," Syd assures him. "Telepathic therapy is extremely intimate. You don't have a choice about how you feel. It's— Sweet, that you were willing to risk everything just for the chance to see me again." She gives him a small smile.

"But foolish," Amahl chides.

"Amahl," Melanie cautions. "These feelings are a sign of David's improvement."

Amahl gives a thoughtful hum. "David must focus on his therapy. But he has much to heal from. If Syd’s presence has a— Positive effect, then I will allow it.” He turns to David. “Would you like to spend some time with my daughter, my dear?”

David isn’t sure about any of this, but he feels like he can only really give one answer. “Sure, um— If it’s okay?” He still wants to see Syd, but he can’t risk doing anything to upset Amahl again. He needs Amahl’s help, his medication. David’s entire recovery depends on him. What was he even thinking yesterday?

“Shh shh,” Amahl soothes. “I cannot have you setting yourself back, joonam.”

The familiar pet name feels like forgiveness. David takes a sharp, relieved breath. “Can I have my shot now?” he asks, hopeful.

“Of course,” Amahl says. “Ah, Syd. Would you like the pleasure of giving David his shot?”

“Sure,” Syd says, and gets up.

She doesn’t even need to ask where David’s medication is. She goes to the work area and takes out the next dose. She really has been part of David’s treatment all this time. She brought their food, took things in and out, she— Can she hear his thoughts?

“Of course she can,” Amahl says. “She could hardly help us treat you without knowing everything we know. But Syd grew up with Melanie's telepathy. It’s very natural to all of us.”

David grew up with telepathy, too. But it was the monster’s telepathy. He’ll never hear other people’s thoughts again. He’s barely grappled with that, with not being a mutant anymore. He has so much work ahead of him. It’s no wonder Amahl needed help.

“You’ll be okay,” Syd says, confidently. She sits down next to David and sets the injection supplies on the table. “You’re safe with all of us, David. We just want you to get better.”

David looks into her eyes. Even after everything that just happened— All he can think is that she’s beautiful. He can’t help it. He feels like— He’d do anything for her.

“Then roll up your sleeve,” Syd says, amused.

David blushes again and obeys her. He’s glad that she’s part of Amahl’s therapy. He would never want to have to actually choose between them.

“You don’t have to, joonam,” Amahl assures him. “My daughter is very loyal to me, just like you.”

“Just a pinch,” Syd warns, and she starts the injection. David feels the medication going into him and does what he always does. He imagines Amahl inside him, healing him. It’s strange for someone else to be giving him his shot, but— Syd is Amahl’s daughter. So she’s a Farouk. She's part of Amahl, and Amahl is part of her.

“There,” Syd says. She takes out the needle and covers the injection site with a small bandage. She rubs his arm to encourage the medication to circulate. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you,” David says, and looks at her gloved arms. “Can I ask— Why you wear gloves?” It made sense for her to wear them while posing as a thief, but now?

“You don’t have to say,” Melanie cautions.

“No, it’s all right,” Syd says. “I know everything about David. It’s only fair for him to learn something about me.” She takes off the long gloves, and—

She has scars on her arms, old and faded but undeniable. And they’re just like the ones on David’s arms.

“I’m sorry,” David says, automatically. He never wanted anyone to feel the way he’s felt.

“This is why my dad’s work is so important,” Syd says, soberly. “So no one will ever hurt that way ever again. Including both of us.”

She rests a hand over David's scars, bare skin-to-skin. David looks at it for a long moment, then meets her eyes.

"Are you ashamed?" he asks, needing to.

"Sometimes," Syd admits. "The gloves protect me from— Prying eyes. Questions I don't feel like answering."

David nods, understanding.

"One day we won't have to hide our scars," Syd tells him. "And we won't have to explain them. They won't have the power to separate us anymore."

David was attracted to Syd before, but now— He thinks he really might be in love.

Syd smiles and ducks her head. "You're very sweet, but you're my patient. But doctors and patients can still be friends?"

"I'd like that," David says, smiling himself. Friends.

Chapter 113: Interlude IV: Kerry needs you to wake up. (Cary)

Chapter Text

The door to Cary's office opens and a young woman walks in. He glances at his notebook to remind himself of his new patient's details.

"Kerry," he greets, warmly. "I'm so glad you came."

Kerry is nervous, her body language tight and restless. "I hope you can help me, Doctor Loudermilk," she says. "I just don't understand what's happening to me."

"I'm sure we can get it all sorted out," Cary assures her. "Why don't you tell me what's upsetting you?"

"I've always been kinda forgetful," Kerry admits. "But lately— It's been a lot worse. People will come up to me and act like I'm supposed to know stuff we never talked about."

"That must be very distressing," Cary says, concerned.

"It freaks me out," Kerry says, brow furrowed with confusion and anger. "At first I thought it was a practical joke but— Sometimes it's people I don't know at all! Why would they do that to me?"

"It sounds like there's some confusion going on," Cary says. "Is there anything else wrong?"

Kerry huffs and leans back against the sofa. "I dunno. Like I said, I'm forgetful. But like— I usually don't forget if I bought something. I thought someone was stealing my credit card but the bank replaced it for me and it still keeps happening, even if I don't use my card at all! And sometimes my passwords change, or there's food in my fridge I didn't buy and I don't even like! I feel like— I'm haunted or something. Or I have some kind of crazy stalker. Everyone thinks I'm crazy."

"And that's how you ended up here?" Cary says, glancing at his notebook again.

"Do you think I'm crazy?" Kerry asks, strained.

"Not at all," Cary says. "I think what's happening to you is very real. Summerland helps people with all kinds of problems. Sometimes those problems are a little bit complicated, and it's hard to deal with them all on our own. There's absolutely nothing wrong with asking for help."

"I've been asking," Kerry says, annoyed.

"And here we are," Cary says, smiling. He's always found a calm demeanor helps ease his patients' minds. By the time they get to him, they've usually been doubted and disbelieved for a long time, and blamed for whatever ills they suffered from. Support and respect are essential to a positive outcome. "What you describe could be caused by a number of factors. I think we can rule out a stalker, at least a human one. It's possible that we're dealing with some kind of psychic phenomena."

"A psychic stalker?" Kerry asks, wide-eyed.

"We take such things extremely seriously," Cary tells her. "The percentage of the mutant population with psychic powers is small, but such mutants can be incredibly powerful. There have been cases of psychic stalkers before. If that's what's happening to you, you've absolutely come to the right place."

"Thank god," Kerry says, her whole body slumping with relief.

"Based on the material you provided, the police and your bank haven't been able to identify the source of these invasions," Cary says. "So we can probably rule out simple fraud or stalking. With your permission, I'd like to bring in one of our therapeutic telepaths."

Kerry tenses up again.

"You're uncomfortable with mind reading," Cary says. "That's quite normal. But you must have been aware of our methods when you made your appointment."

"Everyone says you guys are the best," Kerry says. "It's just— Kinda— Weird and creepy? Sorry."

Cary chuckles. "That's how new things are: a little strange and unsettling. But everyone here is dedicated to the work of helping others, especially our telepaths. Imagine always hearing the thoughts of others. Imagine if those thoughts were unhappy, anxious, even depressed— And there was no way to escape them?"

"Sounds awful," Kerry says.

Cary nods. "It used to be that people suffered in silence because no one could hear their pain. That's no longer the case. The mutant population increases all the time, and so do the number of telepaths. Global mental health is increasingly important for their own mental health. That's why so many telepaths come here to help make the world a better, happier place." He pauses. "Is it okay to bring him in now?"

Kerry nods.

The door opens and Oliver walks in. He sits down next to Kerry and offers his hand. "Kerry, it's good to meet you. I'm Oliver and I'm going to help you. Okay?"

Kerry hesitates, then shakes his hand. "Okay. Um." She gives him a nervous look.

"Oliver is bound by doctor-patient confidentiality," Cary assures her. "Just like all our staff. All he's going to do is listen to your thoughts and see if there's anything unusual happening in your mind. If there's evidence of telepathic invasion, he'll be able to detect it."

"Will it hurt?" Kerry asks.

"You won't feel anything at all," Oliver assures her. "Just relax. Close your eyes."

Kerry closes her eyes, and Oliver raises his hand to her head. He doesn't touch her, but closes his own eyes and listens for a long minute. Then he smiles.

"You've definitely come to the right place," Oliver tells her. "I know exactly what the problem is."

"You do?" Kerry says, eagerly.

'You're right,' Oliver sends to Cary. 'I heard four separate streams of conscious thoughts, and another five are dreaming. She's a system.'

'Any sign of psychic interference?' Cary asks.

'We'll see what the genetic test says, but she seems to be purely human,' Oliver thinks back. He turns back to Kerry. "Kerry, it's been a pleasure meeting you. Cary's going to work with you, but I'll be back to help as needed. You'll be just fine."

"Um, thank you," Kerry says. She watches Oliver go, then turns to Cary, expectant.

"I'm happy to say it's not a psychic stalker," Cary says, getting that one out of the way. This sort of thing is always delicate, no matter how many times he does it. "Kerry, we know what's happening to you. And we can absolutely help you with it. But I'm afraid— This may not be easy for you to accept."

Kerry's relief vanishes. "What do you mean?" she asks, worried.

"This forgetfulness," Cary says. "You said it's afflicted you your whole life?"

"Pretty much," Kerry says.

"Do you remember much of your childhood?" Cary asks, treading carefully.

Kerry pulls in on herself, shrugs. "Does it matter?"

"Very much," Cary says, gently. "Sometimes in our childhood, or even when we're older, our minds can become tremendously stressed. A kind of survival mechanism kicks in. It allows us to compartmentalize our trauma so we can survive and continue to function. But these changes stay with us. They can affect our day-to-day lives, our memories, our relationships."

"There's something wrong with me?" Kerry asks, upset.

"Not wrong, but different," Cary cautions. "And you're not alone. We've helped many people in your situation."

"Just tell me what it is," Kerry says, tightly.

"Based on Oliver's observation, you have something called Dissociative Identity Disorder," Cary tells her. "Colloquially known as multiple personalities."

Kerry's eyes go wide. "I'm crazy? Oh god, I'm crazy." She covers her face, distressed.

There's a knock on the door, and Oliver opens it again. "Cary, you're needed."

"Right now?" Cary asks. "Oliver, this isn't a good time."

"Kerry needs you to wake up," Oliver says.

Cary looks over at Kerry, weeping on the sofa. "Oliver, if this is a joke, it's in very poor taste. Please go."

"Very well." Oliver sighs. "The natural pathos of the human soul, naked original skin beneath our dreams and robes of thought." He leaves, closing the door again.

Cary turns back to help Kerry, but she's gone. Strange, there's no other doors out of his office. He goes to the window and looks out. He sees David, Divad, and Dvd lounging on a picnic blanket in the sun. Amy, Lenny, and Syd are with them, and they all look so happy. They're all eating cherries and cheesy toast.

Cary opens the window. "Did you see a young woman? About— Yea high?" He holds his hand to the correct height.

They shake their heads no.

Cary pulls back inside. "Strange," he mutters. Perhaps he should go help Oliver after all. He walks out of his office, past the forest display and the stuffed goat. Summerland is bustling as usual, patients and students and doctors and teachers all mixing and mingling. Eventually he finds Oliver sitting at a cafeteria table and tinkering with the coffee machine. The man is an inveterate tinkerer.

"Oliver," Cary calls, trying to get his attention. "You said you needed me?"

Oliver looks up. "No. Perhaps it was Melanie?"

"Maybe," Cary says. He pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'll go find her."

"That is a good idea," Oliver says, and bends back down again.

"Melanie?" Cary calls, searching from room to room. He can't find her anywhere in the main building, so he goes outside. Maybe she's with a patient? He follows the narrow footpath over the bridge and into the forest. He sees three figures in the glass cube.

"Melanie," Cary says, relieved, as he walks inside. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

"You found me," Melanie says, calmly amused. "We're doing memory work."

"Would you like to join us?" Ptonomy asks.

"We can make you whole," David promises.

Cary takes a seat, grips the psychic conductors. "I'm worried— What if I remember everything wrong?"

"It'll be okay. Where do you want to go?" Ptonomy asks. "What do you want to see? Feel it all again."

Cary's hands are sweating. He adjusts his grip on the metal handles and tries to clear his mind. He doesn't want to look back. He's afraid of what he'll find.

Mom.

The tableau is a young boy, perhaps five. He's pale and blond and blue-eyed, and he looks nothing like his mother. He doesn't know why he's so different, but sometimes different is all he feels. Even when people don't say it, he sees it in their faces, in their eyes.

Freak.

"Try and see it from the inside," Ptonomy urges. "Go back in your body, in the moment."

Cary lets his mind slip. He opens his eyes, and she's a young girl, perhaps five. She's Nakota, like her mother and her father, and shares their straight dark hair and dark eyes. Sometimes people are mean to her, call her names, and it hurts. But she belongs to her family, her tribe. She knows she belongs.

Her mother sits with her and brushes her long hair, working out the knots. Cary feels calm and safe and loved.

But then the brush glides through short hair and touches his bare neck. His mother gasps and pushes him away. He falls to the carpet, and he's older, fully grown. He smells alcohol and cigarette smoke. He curls in on himself, afraid, ashamed.

"Mom, please," Cary begs.

"Came out wrong," Mom mutters, tired and bitter. "You ruined my life, you know that?"

"I know," Cary says. "I know I ruined everything, but please. Let me help you. I'm your son."

"I don't know what you are," Mom says. "I know what you were supposed to be, what the doctors said you'd be. If I didn't watch you come out of me—" She looks away, takes a drag of her cigarette.

Cary sits up. He brings up his knees and hugs them, hides his tears. Coming back here was a mistake, but how can he leave? Whatever she does to him, he knows he deserves it. He's always deserved it.

But he feels Kerry stir inside him, waking up from sleep, and he can't subject her to this. For her, he finds the strength to stand up and walk away. Only for her.

"Mister Loudermilk," the doctor says, and Cary turns back to him. "We need to talk about your treatment."

"It’s not schizophrenia," Cary says, desperately. He doesn't want to be sick. He's used to being a freak but he doesn't want to be sick. "Kerry's real, I swear. When she comes out of me I can touch her."

The doctor gives him a patient look, but not an understanding one.

"I know how it sounds," Cary admits. "But I know what's real. She's not a delusion. She's my— My friend, I—"

It's no use. Kerry won't come out if anyone else might see her, she's too afraid. She has every reason to be afraid. Cary doesn't want them to become some kind of— Medical experiment, to be tested and dissected. But protecting her means—

"I know you're scared," the doctor says. "We'd prefer to manage your symptoms if we can. Fever treatments and lobotomies— They're for the era of dementia praecox. There are new electro-convulsive therapies that show promise.”

"Shock therapy?" Cary asks, horrified.

"I understand you were attending medical school," the doctor says. "They gave you medication, tried to treat your symptoms. But that’s over. This disease is progressive. The school can't waste their resources on a lost cause." He looks down and makes a note.

"I'm not sick," Cary says, angrily. "Kerry's real!"

"Orderlies!" the doctor calls, alarmed. Two men dressed in white come in and take hold of Cary's arms.

"Put him in solitary," the doctor tells them. "Just until he calms down. Let's start with 48 hours and see how he behaves."

"You can't do this to me!" Cary shouts, struggling. "Please! Let me go!"

'Cary?' Kerry thinks. 'What's going on?'

He didn't want her to wake up for this. It's better when she sleeps. But it’s too late.

Cary opens her eyes and looks down at the degree in her hands. One of the first women to train as a doctor at her university, and the first Native woman to graduate.

“I’m so proud of you,” Dad says, tears in his eyes.

“My sweet girl,” Mom says, looking like she’s so proud she might burst. “I always believed in you, always.”

“No one’s ever going to believe me,” Cary tells Kerry, mournful. He knows she’s real, he knows it. But telling the doctors that only makes them more certain that he's insane.

‘They’re hurting you,’ Kerry thinks, upset. ‘I hate this place, it’s awful.”

“I know,” Cary sighs. He looks around the asylum. This isn’t a place where patients get better. It’s a place to put them out of the way. And the treatments they force on him are little more than torture. There's a new medication that they're giving him that's supposed to replace the shock therapy, but it makes him feel so awful.

Kerry sleeps a lot here. Cary’s glad. He doesn’t ask her to come out anymore. That’s the last thing she should ever do.

“We have to leave before—“ Cary trails off. He heard a rumor that they were going to sterilize all the patients soon. He loathes eugenicists. Monsters, all of them. “We have to escape.”

‘I’ll help,’ Kerry thinks, boldly. ‘I’m small. I can sneak around and steal the keys.’

“It’s too dangerous,” Cary insists.

‘You’re always being brave for me,’ Kerry thinks. ‘I wanna be brave for you.’

Cary sighs. He doesn't know what kind of life they'll have even if they do manage to get free. His dreams of being a doctor, of helping people— They can't be anything but over. The world decided what he is and he has no say in it.

But the world hasn't touched Kerry. No matter what it costs, he has to keep her safe. It's going to be terrifying, breaking out of this place, but he has to do it for her.

"Okay," he agrees. "But please be careful, please."

Kerry steps out of him, and Cary lets out a soft grunt. She hasn't been outside of him since they were taken here. It always feels strange when she does it, like— He's a little empty without her. She's a part of him that's gone missing.

She's barely aged since he first saw her, even though it's been years. He wonders if he'll spend his whole life with a little girl inside him. If he could only stop talking to her, accept that she's a fantasy, a delusion— maybe they'd let him go. But she feels so real. She hugs him and he holds her tight.

Kerry gives him an intense, meaningful look, but doesn't say anything.

"Kerry, you have to say things aloud when you're outside me," Cary reminds her. "With your mouth."

Kerry struggles, concentrates. Cary realized early on that she won't do 'outside things' without his urging. He can help her with some of it even with her inside him. He taught her to read, made word games out of his studies to engage her in learning. Before they were taken here, when she would come out they played the same games aloud, to encourage her to speak, to exercise her lingual and facial muscles. Not using them for long periods seems to make it harder for her to talk.

It's been a while, this time.

"'m gonna protect you," Kerry says, slightly slurred but determined.

"Find somewhere to hide," Cary advises. "Wait for an opportunity to steal the keys, then stay hidden until everyone's asleep. I'll wait for you."

Kerry gives him one last hug before she goes.

The hours she's gone are the longest of Cary's life. He feels so utterly alone without her. He often wonders if maybe he is mad after all, if Kerry isn't his mysteriously real imaginary friend but a schizophrenic delusion. Maybe he belongs in this asylum. But if he doesn't respond to the treatments, he knows what will become of him. He's not a person anymore, not to these doctors. He's just a sickness he might not even have.

If he ever gets out of here, if he can somehow make a new life for himself and Kerry— He has to make sure no one ever gets misdiagnosed again. Maybe that's an impossible fantasy, but he holds on to it anyway, tucks that hope deep in his heart.

When he hears the jangle of keys, he sits up, his heart in his throat. He doesn't dare call out. But the door opens and—

It's Kerry. Thank god she's alright.

"Quickly," he whispers, going up to her. "Give me the keys and get back inside."

But she doesn't give him the keys, she doesn't step inside him where she belongs. She just frowns at him.

"Cary, I can't," Kerry says, without any of her usual difficulty. And then he realizes she's older. When did she get so grown up? Is she too big to fit inside him anymore? "Of course not. You're the one inside me, remember?"

"You heard my thoughts?" Cary asks, surprised.

"Of course I did," Kerry says, tolerantly. "I'm on the outside now. Everything's reversed. So I'll just do what you did, and you do what I did, and we'll be fine."

"No," Cary says, stepping backwards. "Please, I don't want that."

"We can't stay here," Kerry insists. "Just get inside me and we can leave."

There's a noise outside the door.

"Someone's coming," Kerry whispers. "Get inside me right now!"

"Please, no," Cary begs, but there's a pull he can't resist. It takes hold of him and forces him to go to her. She opens her arms wide and he falls inside, into darkness.

Darkness. Warm and tight, holding her from all around. She hears sounds but she doesn't know what they are. Some of the sounds never stop, like the thump thump thump thump. Sometimes the thumps are slow and even, and sometimes they're fast. She feels bad when they're fast, so Kerry sleeps. When bad things happen she sleeps.

Cary sleeps in a narrow bed in a coldwater apartment in the city. He takes jobs at places that don't ask too many question, that don't care that he talks to himself all the time. It's not the same as fixing people, but he finds he likes fixing things: radios, TVs, all kinds of gadgets. He stays current on the latest technologies to stimulate his mind. He's fascinated by the new computer kits and he's saving up to buy another one.

When he's working at night and things are quiet, Kerry likes to come out and help him. The more time she spends outside of him, the older she gets. Still very slowly, but— He's not sure if he's relieved or not. He's never figured out what she is, what they are. If it's all in his head, if he's actually schizophrenic or something worse. Now that she's growing up, when he looks at her she reminds him so much of his mother. Their mother, perhaps.

He stares at himself in the mirror after brushing his teeth. Where did his face come from? Mom always insisted she never cheated on Dad, and there's nothing about him that bears any resemblance to either of them, the obvious aside. In Irish mythology, fairies steal human babies and replace them with their own children. Sometimes Cary thinks he's one of those creatures and Kerry was the human he replaced, and somehow they got stuck together. But it's only a story.

And maybe that would have been it. He would have spent the rest of his life in back rooms, staying out of sight and wondering who and what he is. But then—

"I hear you're good at fixing things," says the man. He has a beard and an accent that Cary can't quite place. "I have something I'd like you to fix, but it's too big to move. Do you do home visits?"

"Uh, that rather depends," Cary says, adjusting his glasses. "There will be an extra charge for travel."

"Oh, that's no problem," the man says. "I've been building a computer. It’s only the size of a fridge! It's amazing how small they can make them these days."

"Vacuum tubes?" Cary asks.

"Transistors," the man says, proudly. "When can you come out?"

Cary glances at his schedule. "I'm afraid things are rather busy right now."

"High demand," the man says. "Tell you what. We can do this off the books, if you like. In your free time. How about tomorrow night? I'll make it worth your while."

That sounds suspicious to Cary. But he does need the money; it's not like he's paid what he's worth here. And the chance to work on a computer like that is deeply tempting. "Okay," he says, and takes the man's name, address, and a sizeable deposit.

“Oliver Bird,” he reads. He folds the paper and puts it and the cash into his pocket.

Chapter 114: Interlude IV: To belong somewhere and not be sick. (Cary)

Chapter Text

Cary has his doubts, but he takes the bus and then walks the rest of the way, his work bag slung over his shoulder, chatting to Kerry about this and that. Oliver Bird lives at a horse ranch in the middle of nowhere. Not the kind of place Cary expected to go to fix a computer.

He realizes, belatedly, that Oliver never actually told him what was wrong with it. But by then he's already knocking on the door.

"Ah, wonderful!" Oliver says, all smiles, then turns and calls: "Melanie! Our guest is here."

"Come in, come in," says a blonde woman as she approaches them. "You're here to help Oliver?"

"Yes ma’am," Cary says.

"Oh, there's no need for that," Melanie says. "Call me Melanie, please."

Cary hesitates, but doesn't feel he can say no. "Melanie," he tries, and she's pleased.

"We have plenty of work to do," Oliver says. "But we can't start on an empty stomach."

"Oh, that's very generous, but—" Cary starts.

"My husband is an excellent cook," Melanie assures him. "He loves feeding people and it's just the two of us here for now." She looks him up and down, notices the dirt on his shoes. "Did you walk all this way?"

"I took the bus," Cary says.

"You should have said, we would have picked you up," Melanie says. "Now you have to sit down and rest."

"Thank you," Cary says, because what else can he say?

'These people are weird,' Kerry thinks. 'Weird and creepy.'

Cary bites back a reply. "Can I use your washroom to clean up?" he asks.

"Of course," Oliver says, and points the way.

Once Cary is safely inside, he turns on the tap as a noise screen and faces the mirror. Somehow it makes him feel a little less crazy to have a face to talk to, even if it's just his own. "Kerry, that was rude."

'Who cares?' Kerry thinks. 'They can't hear me. And they are weird. What're they even doing out here? Why did they hire us?'

"Are you going to come out and help?" Cary asks, somewhere between a joke and a challenge.

'Whatever,' Kerry thinks. 'We should leave before they trap us in their basement and try to sacrifice us.'

"I knew those comic books were a mistake," Cary sighs. They gave Kerry far too many odd ideas. It would matter more if she was ever going to have to survive on her own, but— He was just happy to have her actually engaged enough with the world to find something she likes. "The world is not full of— Devil worshippers and aliens."

'That's how they operate,' Kerry thinks, dramatically. 'They pretend to be nice so you're lured into their lair and then bam! They get you! You gotta karate chop them and run!'

"Hmm," Cary returns, unimpressed. "Let's just get through the evening. We don't know how long this will take and it's a long walk back to the bus stop."

He washes up and walks back out again, and finds Melanie and Oliver in the kitchen. It's rustic but welcoming, decorated with items from all over the world and photos of Oliver and Melanie together, looking utterly in love. Cary finds himself relaxing. Devil worshippers indeed.

"Have you ever had an Indian curry before?" Oliver asks, as he carries over a pot from the stove.

"No, but if that's what that is, it smells amazing," Cary says. "What's in it?"

"A good stew's the same the world over," Oliver declares. "Tough cuts simmered soft, hearty vegetables. The joy of the world is in the spice."

Not the most helpful ingredient list, but Cary decides not to press. He copies them, taking scoops of rice and curry, and digs in. "This is delicious!" he declares, the strange flavors lighting him up. There's a bit of a burn, but it's pleasant.

'Ugh, food,' Kerry complains. 'I don't know how you can do that. It's so gross.'

Cary can't chide her in front of the Birds and she knows it. He takes another bite in retaliation, and because he enjoys it. No matter how hard he's tried, Kerry has always refused to eat. She doesn't seem to need food, since she gets everything she needs from him, assuming she even needs caloric energy in the first place. If she's a delusion it's hardly relevant.

"Not a delusion," Oliver says, casually. "Kerry’s far too headstrong for that."

Cary’s spoon drops from his nerveless fingers and clatters against the plate before falling to the floor. Did he just— No, that's— What? What?

'Did he just—' Kerry thinks, alarmed. 'Cary, what's going on?'

"I don't know," Cary says, staring at Oliver. Has it finally happened? Has his disease progressed enough to make him truly lose his mind?

"Oliver," Melanie chides, fondly. She turns to Cary. "I apologize for my husband. Oliver has a flair for the dramatic. Please, don't be afraid, either of you."

Cary stares at her. What is happening?

"We just want to help you," Melanie soothes. "Oliver is a mutant like you. A mind reader."

"A— A mutant?" Cary asks, confused.

'A mind reader?' Kerry thinks, excited like she gets when she reads her pulpy comic books. 'They're aliens!'

"Not aliens," Oliver says. "Though I think I'd look dashing with a pair of antennae." He brings his hands up next to his head, raises his index fingers and waggles them. Inside Cary's head, Kerry laughs.

"Mutants are people with unusual powers," Melanie explains. "Oliver can sense them. There are mutants all over the world, every one of them unique." She holds out her hand to Oliver, and Oliver takes it. "It's our dream to help them. To show them they're not alone."

"You're not alone," Oliver tells them.

"Cary, I'm sure that— Your whole life, people told you you were sick," Melanie says. "But what if they were wrong? What if this— Mental illness you believe you suffer from is actually your power? We want to give you the chance to rewrite the story of your life."

"I'm sorry," Cary says, deeply confused. "I think you must— This is obviously all a mistake. I don't know who you think I am, but— I have schizophrenia, split mind, or— Multiple personalities. Maybe both."

"Do you?" Oliver challenges. "Or are you two people who have the power to share a body?"

"No, that's—" Cary starts. "We're not two people."

"That's not what I hear," Oliver says. "Kerry, you're a person, aren't you?"

'Of course,' Kerry thinks.

"Well there you have it," Oliver declares. "Why don't you come out? We'd love to see you."

'No,' Kerry thinks, firmly. 'I only come out for Cary.'

"You must love him very much," Oliver says.

'Of course I love him, he's Cary,' Kerry thinks.

Cary just stares at Oliver, astonished. No one's ever talked to Kerry, much less while she's still inside him! Was there something in the curry? This is all too much for him.

"Cary, are you all right?" Melanie asks, concerned.

Cary wipes his brow. He feels a little faint. He takes a sip of his water but it doesn't help. "Mutants, you said?" he asks, weakly.

"Yes," Melanie says. "Humanity seems to be changing, undergoing— Some kind of evolutionary leap. There aren't many mutants yet, but we've found them all over the world, and there are more born every day."

"Are you—" Cary asks.

"No," Melanie admits, somewhat regretful. "I'm just a perfectly ordinary human. But I want to do everything I can to help my husband with his dream of— A safe place for mutants. That's what we're going to build here. And we'd like you to join us, to help us. To be part of Oliver's dream."

"This is—" Cary stands up, paces away and then back. "You don't know that's what I am, this— This mutant thing, I— I'm sick, I—" He doesn't know why he's insisting on this now, when he's spent his whole life trying to reject it.

"Would you like more proof?" Oliver asks. He picks up his fork and stares at it, and then— It lifts into the air, floats there completely suspended.

Cary walks up to the fork and waves his hand around it. No strings, nothing. He takes it and examines it. It's just a fork.

'This is so much better than demon worshippers,' Kerry thinks.

"Is there even a computer here?" Cary asks, feeling a lot of things but also— Deceived.

"Oh, absolutely," Oliver says. "But I don't want your help fixing it. I want your help building it."

Cary itches to say yes just on that alone. The challenge, the opportunity— The chance to help people again, to really help them. If this is what he's been all this time, a mutant— No, two mutants who share a body? Is that what they are? The doctors only saw a girl when they were in the womb, but it was Cary who came out of it.

"Perhaps you're mutant twins," Oliver suggests. "There are all kinds of mutant powers, and all of them defy our conventional understanding of reality. But then the world is a much stranger place than people like to pretend. Consider the atom. Something so impossibly small, mostly empty space, and yet—" He raps the table with his knuckles. "It defines our reality. And to split it releases a force of incredible power."

"And one reason for the increase in mutants might be the use of nuclear power," Melanie offers. "Mutants may in some sense be— Children of the atomic age. There's so much we don't yet understand. We need someone who can help us figure all of this out. We know you want to do more than just fix gadgets in some tiny repair shop. Oliver's heard your thoughts, that's how he found you. We know you dream of something more than what the world has allowed you."

'They spied on us,' Kerry thinks, displeased.

"You know so much about us," Cary says. "How long have you been watching?"

"Telepathy is— Somewhat involuntary," Oliver admits. "And mutant minds are louder, more distinct. Beacons, like stars flickering in the night sky. I didn't seek you out. You two came to me."

"I see," Cary says, even though— He doesn't, really. "Even if— If everything you're saying is true, why have I never heard anything about mutants before?"

Oliver and Melanie both sober. "Because there are forces trying to erase us, to wipe us out," Oliver admits. "Governments across the world see us as a threat. Because we are a threat— To their cruelty, their old-fashioned thinking, their greed for power. Mutant powers can't be bought and sold. They're a gift, they're who we are. If we can bring enough mutants together, they'll have to listen to us. We'll have the chance to make the whole world a better place."

"Mutants will be accepted," Melanie says. "They won't be punished for their differences, and neither will anyone else. We can make a utopia, but it has to start here, with us."

"This is— It's a lot," Cary says. "I just came here to fix things."

"Then stay to fix them," Melanie implores. "So many mutants we find— They've been told they're sick or crazy, or they're imprisoned because people think they're too dangerous to be free. We know that's what happened to you. You can help us stop it, and make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else ever again."

Cary rests his hands on the back of his chair. He's a very practical person, and none of this sounds remotely practical. He's heard of utopian communes before, read about their ideals and promises, but he never imagined himself joining one. "Do you have any proof that I'm truly a mutant?"

"You have another person inside you," Oliver points out. "Surely that's enough?"

It's hard to deny that. And yet— "She could be a— A hallucination," Cary argues. "No one else has ever seen her."

'Hey, I'm not a hallucination,' Kerry thinks, offended.

"Until today, no one heard her," Oliver counters. "But as Kerry just said, she's not a hallucination. She's a full person in her own right."

"It's time she came out," Melanie urges. "Let us help. You don't have to hide anymore, either of you."

Cary tries to take that in.

"Please, sit back down," Oliver says. "When we finish eating, I can show you my computers."

"You have more than one?" Cary asks, surprised.

"Oh yes," Oliver says, a dreamy look in his eyes. "All sorts."

Oliver sits down. He looks at the curry on his plate, the rice. He feels— A lot of things. Too many. But what they're offering him — a chance to make a difference, to use his skills to the fullest, to realize his own dreams. And they won't be alone. He's struggled so much with Kerry. To finally have someone who can help—

And to not be sick. To belong somewhere and not be sick.

How could he possibly say no?

He picks up his fork and eats. The next day, he quits his job at the repair shop, packs their belongings. He starts his new life and never looks back.

Cary opens his eyes. He's back in the glass room, the forest stretching out in all directions.

"See?" Ptonomy says. "You remembered that just fine."

"You were wrong," Cary says, and turns to Melanie. She's old again, like him. So much time has passed since that night. "You told me I wasn't sick."

"You're not," Melanie insists. "You and Kerry are twins. You each have your own consciousness, your own memories, your own DNA. Your mutant power is to hide one inside the other."

"You're wrong," David tells her. "He's a system. He's sick. His mind shattered like mine. Nothing can ever put it back together. What you told us was wrong. You made us worse."

"Then what's his power?" Melanie challenges.

"Two minds in one body," David says. "But what does that mean when there's a second body?"

"Either both were real from the start, or only one," Ptonomy declares. "So one of you isn't real."

"I'm the real one," Cary insists.

"How can you be?" Ptonomy counters. "You're on the inside now. You're the delusion, the hallucination. When your body dies, and it's going to die, you'll be trapped forever."

"I don't want that," Cary says, pleading. "Please, it can't be true."

"Four hours was enough for her," Ptonomy says, unmoved. "It should be more than enough for you. You stole her life. That was her in your mother's womb. You should have been her. Everything bad that happened was because of you. It's all your fault."

"No," Cary says, looking to David and Melanie for help. "Please, I don't— I was just a baby. It wasn't my choice!"

"Tell me about it," David sighs. "Why would you want someone else's soul inside you? Look what happened to me! You need to accept what you are, what you've always been."

"You're a mutant," Melanie insists. "Your trauma doesn't matter, it's not who you are. Those bad things only happened because the world didn't accept your gift. The only thing that matters is what you do now, the good you put into the world. Let the past go."

"I can't," Cary admits. "I've tried so hard. I did what you told me to. I did the work and I helped so many people— But I don't know how to help myself. I don't know how to know who I am. I don't know if what he did broke us or fixed us."

"Don't be grateful to him," Ptonomy warns. "He's going to use you. You're just another part of the cow to him."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way," Cary says. "I just wanted to help David. He was in so much pain."

The open air, the glass walls, the table— It all fades away. Cary's in a dark room, a Division 3 prison cell. He's sitting on a bed wearing all white, tears in his eyes, his chest heaving with pain.

Kerry's there. She sits down on the bed.

"There's no me," Cary tells her, trembling, barely able to speak through the tightness in his throat.

"Of course there's a you," Kerry says, so gently.

"No," Cary sobs. It's all he can say.

"Is that what you think?" Kerry asks. "That you're gone?"

Cary lifts his head, even though he can't stop the tears pouring out of his eyes and there's snot in his nose and he can't stop shaking and he can't breathe. Kerry hugs him. She wraps her arms around him and holds him tight.

"Sometimes it can take a while to figure everything out," Kerry soothes. "You survived so much. But being inside of me doesn't mean you're not there. You just have to let me help you."

"I'm the one who helps you," Cary says, mournful.

"Everything's reversed now," Kerry tells him. "You've helped so many people. Do you think they're weak because you helped them? Do you think I'm weak?"

"Of course not," Cary says. "But—" He swallows, remembers. He blinks and he's sitting on his bed in the asylum, groggy from shock treatment and anesthesia, listening to someone crying down the hall. And then he's sitting in his dorm room staring at a bottle of pills. And then he's sitting in his childhood bedroom and Mom is pounding on the door, drunk and furious and swearing she'll knock the white boy out of him.

He hugs his knees and curls up tight. He's sorry, he's so sorry. How can he fix them if he doesn't know what they're supposed to be?

The pounding stops, and the doorknob rattles, turns. Cary takes a sharp, scared breath in, bracing himself for the worst. But there's no smell of alcohol, no angry grab to his arm. It's Kerry, all grown up even though he's a little boy.

"You've been asleep for a really long time," Kerry tells him. She sits down with him again. "But it's time to wake up, okay?"

"No," Cary says, refusing. "I'm not ready."

"I wasn't either," Kerry admits. "But it's not up to us. We were changed. I can't hide anymore and I'm not gonna let you start. You've always been so brave for me. Let me be brave for you, and— Help you be brave for yourself. But I can't do that until you wake up. You have to wake up."

"No," Cary cries, but it's too late. She hugs him and he falls into her, and—

Darkness. Warm and tight, holding him from all around. He hears sounds but he doesn't know what they are. Some of the sounds never stop, like the thump thump thump thump.

It's a heartbeat, Kerry's heartbeat. It's so loud from inside her, impossibly loud. The breath in her lungs, too, steady and even. The rush of blood in her veins.

Everything feels wrong. He doesn't fit inside her the way he has to. His body was never meant to fit inside her. Or maybe it was, but— After all this time, whatever should have been simply isn't anymore.

'Help me,' he thinks, desperate. 'Kerry? Oliver? Someone please help me! Please!'

He feels her stir, her body shifting in their bed. Their body? Their heart, their lungs, their veins? He tries to get out of her on his own but he can't. He's stuck again, like before. Trapped. What if he never gets free?

'Kerry, wake up,' Cary begs. 'Please wake up!'

"Cary?" Kerry murmurs. Her eyes flutter open and he sees the ceiling of the lab. Kerry sits up and looks down at herself, and he sees the swell of her breasts, her belly, the blanket draped over her legs. She looks around and they see everyone's still asleep. It's dark, not yet morning. "Finally," she says, and stretches. "You were asleep forever!"

'It hurts,' Cary groans. 'I'm stuck again.'

"Okay, hold on," Kerry says. She squares her shoulders, takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Reach out and I'll take your hand."

Cary reaches, pushing against the tightness. Through Kerry's eyes, he sees her reaching into herself. Her hand searches, and then— Her fingertips brush his. He cries out in relief as her hand clasps his own.

"It's gonna be okay," Kerry tells him. "Just like last time. I've got you."

He stops seeing through her eyes as she pulls him free, inch by inch. His connection with her body fades and vanishes, until— There's only his body again. He falls the last distance out of her and collapses on the floor, gasping.

"Cary?" Kerry says, leaning over him, worried. It reminds him of something— Something he was dreaming? But the last wisps of the dream float out of reach, and then they're gone.

He can't remember. But it was just a dream.

Chapter 115: Day 12: Let's try it with the glove off. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd drifts from a dream and opens her eyes to the bright morning sun. When she winces and turns away, something falls from her lap and slides to the floor. Syd cracks open one eye and sees— The transcripts.

She stayed up late last night, first watching the surveillance footage, then reading and re-reading the transcripts of the day's therapy and conversations. She must have fallen asleep when she was reading on the sofa. She sits up and stretches, gathers the fallen papers and puts them on the coffee table, then tries to get her bearings.

David is still asleep and the inducer is still on him, so presumably Divad and Dvd are out, too. But the other beds are empty and there's no sign of Oliver, Kerry, or the others.

It's blissfully quiet. Syd hasn't had much quiet since David came back. She leans back and listens to the faint murmur of morning traffic through the thick window glass. They're only a few stories off the ground, but it reminds her of quiet mornings on the thirty-first floor. The pencil-scratch of her mom's writing, the whisper of a turned page, the traffic murmuring far below.

She dreamed of David, unsurprisingly. She would have been surprised to dream about anything else. She thought about David so much last night, about their relationship and what they've meant to each other. About Divad and Dvd and what they endured, what they felt, what they feel now. And in the face of all that—

God, she wishes they could go back. She wants it to be the two of them on her cartoon island again. She accepts that it can't be, that the complexity of David's life makes that absolutely impossible. But in her heart it's what she wants and she doesn't know how to reconcile that. There's no way for her to just— Have David again, for him to only be hers. She has to share him with so many people, and it hurts her. She knows it's wrong to feel that way but she does.

In the dream, David was— The way he used to be. The way they used to think he was. Powerless, human, with only a single mind. She was the one who was making him whole, and she knew that— Once she did, it would be impossible for him to ever leave her. And it felt so good.

She grabs her notebook from the coffee table and walks over to where David is sleeping, takes one of the chairs beside his bed.
She didn't just watch David in the surveillance footage. He was usually with her when he wasn't sneaking off to help Farouk or her future self, so she saw a lot of herself. She saw herself having sex with a man who wasn't there.

He's here now, all flesh and bone. She wants to reach out to him as he sleeps, like she used to. She wants to touch his body again, to run her gloved hand down his chest and feel the needles pricking under her skin. She wants to lie against him and see how much she can take before the needles are too much.

Every night she did that, she would imagine— His astonishment and joy when she finally held his hand, when she hugged him. His gratitude and praise for all her hard work. But instead, when she told him— First he couldn't process it, and then— He looked at her with such shocked betrayal.

She should have asked him, she knows that now. She should have told him what she needed and of course he would have helped her. He would have done anything for her. But she was angry at him for not being there to help her before. He was gone for a year, he wouldn't tell her what happened to him. If he wasn't going to share, why should she? Why shouldn't she just take what she needed? If he would really do anything for her, he'd let her use him. He owed her.

It all made perfect sense at the time. But that's the same logic that her future self used. It's the same logic Syd has always used. The world owes her and she's going to take what she's owed, whether the world wants to give it or not. Especially if it doesn't want to because she's always relished a fight, the chance to give back some of her pain. The bullies and those big game hunters— She was eager to hurt them back with interest. She never imagined herself joining the military, but it turned out to be just what she needed.

What was it Ptonomy said about her? She has a history of aggression and disregard for the rights of others. Even though Melanie helped her work on those things— They couldn't make those parts of herself go away. All she did was learn how to manage them, to recognize when it was okay to hurt people and when it wasn't. To channel her aggression into the appropriate parts of her work and keep it out of her personal life.

But she forgot all those lessons when David returned. It was a shock for her, of course. Looking back she sees that, and how that shock made her revert, just like shocks make David and Dvd and Divad revert. Farouk uses shocks the same way he uses memory and love: as powerful weapons, as sculpting tools for his sunrises.

It worries her to know that. When Farouk goes after David again, when he unleashes whatever awful shock he has planned for them— Will a few words be enough to save them?

Syd has her doubts. She opens her notebook and looks at her own words. Are they enough to save her? Ptonomy seems to be betting everything on this foundation work, but what other choice do they have? Farouk is too powerful to be stopped with anything but David, that's why Division 3 needed him in the first place. And David is the one thing Farouk wants. Everything comes down to David and if he can heal enough to withstand shocks and memories and love.

It seems like an impossible demand, and yet— Watching that surveillance footage again— The pain she felt that day in the courtroom, her heart ripped open as she begged David to let them help him— It's like the hole in her hand from the hook. It twinges, aches sometimes, but the ragged wound is just a memory.

It's strange. She's always held on to her pain, used it as a weapon and as armor. Despite all the work she did with Melanie, that never changed. She was so certain it was the only way to survive, so absolutely certain. But if it's possible to let the pain go, to let healing happen— If healing is what the mind and body want to do and the trick is getting out of the way of that, and giving some kind of— Structure to the healing— A solid base and a scaffolding to make it strong—

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, lets it out. She is survival but she can't survive alone. She will accept help, she will give and receive love. Because love makes her strong and pain makes her weak, and if she lets go of her pain, love will help her heal.

She looks at her therapy list. She's making good progress but she knows this is only the start. She has to push herself harder, the way David pushes himself. She has to face her past, not just the last few weeks of it. And she needs to figure out how to be with David without hurting him. They need their own healthy multiplicity if they don't want everything to go wrong again.

And there are things she needs to accept. David's shame, his neediness and passive acceptance— She’s afraid of them — that’s why she tried to force David to change — but they're as much a part of David as his love. They're who he's always been, and she doubts they'll entirely go away no matter how much he heals. If they did— Would he even be himself anymore? Would she be herself without her aggression and disregard? Who are they if not the stories they tell ourselves?

David is trying to rewrite his story. What story does she want to be?

She doesn't know. And what if she never figures it out? What if she's incapable of ever being anything other than who she's always been? Her mom never changed. People tried to change her, to drag her down so they could put themselves above her, and she never let them. She never compromised for anyone. Not for the men who claimed to love her, and not for her daughter.

Syd never wants to compromise. She's just like her mom in so many ways, and she hates that about herself even though she clings to it. To give even an inch to someone else always feels like defeat. That's served her well when negotiating against heads of state, but— It's so much of what made things go wrong with David. What was it Ptonomy said? In a healthy relationship, both partners should be able to make the right decisions for themselves. David didn't know how to say no, and she wouldn't let him try.

She has to let him say no. But what if he says no to her? Will he still love her if she stops hurting him? If she doesn’t?

She writes out her foundation work, revising her foundation, adding to the therapy list. Then she sits and watches David's chest rise and fall. He looks so vulnerable when he's asleep, he always has. He's sleeping peacefully, no nightmares or mountain climbing. She sees a little furrow in his brow and she wants so much to reach out and smooth it away. But she can't.

The door to the lab opens. It's Ptonomy and Lenny. Syd closes her notebook and stands.

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, it's all good," Lenny says.

"Cary's awake," Ptonomy explains. "He's working through the backlog in the other lab. Oliver's had his turn, so you're up."

"Oh, right," Syd says, remembering the tests and scans they're meant to have. She looks down at herself. "Is it okay if I get cleaned up first?"

"Sure," Ptonomy says. "How about we stop by your room?"

"I've got the sleeping beauties," Lenny says, and takes the seat Syd was in. She has her notebook with her, too. Syd wonders if she made any changes to her foundation work since last night, but now doesn't seem to be the time to ask.

Syd takes one last look back at David, and then follows Ptonomy out of the lab. It's always something of a relief to get out of there, but leaving David behind— She's still afraid that she'll come back and he'll be gone. It should matter that he was right in front of her when the orb took him, but it doesn't.

"How's Cary?" Syd asks, when they reach the elevator.

"A little shaken up," Ptonomy admits. "He's still having trouble being inside of Kerry. Going in is easy, but not getting out."

Syd suppresses a shudder. "I've had nightmares about getting stuck in someone else. But I don't have to swap to survive."

"It's a problem," Ptonomy says, and sighs. "I'll have a session with them today. And they want your help, too. To figure out if they're two souls or one, twins or a system."

"Which do they want it to be?" Syd asks, curious. She's never used her powers diagnostically before.

"I honestly don't think they know," Ptonomy says.

"How are you doing?" Syd asks.

"Better if I could sleep," Ptonomy says. "But we should be fine today. Lenny's better now, I think yesterday really helped her. And Amy's holding on."

"I'm glad," Syd says. "Um. Did Oliver—"

"We got everything," Ptonomy says. "Last night and this morning. Thank you, that was helpful."

"No point in having telepathic therapy if I don't think about what's wrong," Syd says. "I know we don't have a lot of time."

"We don't," Ptonomy agrees, quietly.

They reach Syd's room and Ptonomy waits while she showers and changes. Syd looks at her reflection and touches the cool surface of the mirror. Is her mind her own again? Was that ever the truth or just another story? She sees so much of her mom, looking at herself. Especially in her eyes.

"Will we have my session before breakfast again?" Syd asks, as she and Ptonomy head to the other lab.

"You gave me a lot of material," Ptonomy says. "I need time to prepare. But we'll get to you before we start on the Davids. I want you to work on your relationship before David works on his possession trauma."

"Think you can get him through it?" Syd asks. David's struggled with that so much, and she knows she made it worse.

"We don't have a choice," Ptonomy says. "But the odds are improving. That's all we can ask."

Syd's curious about those odds, about the models the Admiral is using to generate them. But she knows that's the kind of information that Ptonomy needs to keep to the mainframe. Telling her would be telling Farouk, and he knows too much already.

The secondary lab is bustling, with Cary directing Kerry, Amy, and the full research team. It's as unusual to see them as it was to have a few moments of quiet. It reminds her how carefully David's environment is managed, how David is still as much a prisoner as a patient despite their reassurances to him. She wonders if the crown stays on more for that than any worries about David's instability.

"Morning," Amy greets, and pulls Syd into a hug. Syd's breath catches at the contact, and then— She breathes out, holds Amy back. It still amazes her to be able to comfortably touch another person.

"Did Ptonomy give you a hug this morning?" Amy asks.

Syd shakes her head. Amy gives Ptonomy a pointed look.

"Sorry," Ptonomy says, and comes over. He opens his arms, and Syd hesitates, then accepts the hug. "I'm not really used to this either," he admits.

"I wake up in the morning with a dream in my eyes," Oliver says. He's sitting in the exam chair, and Kerry is removing electrodes from his head. "Hello, Syd."

"Um, hey," Syd says. She still never quite knows what to make of Oliver. Sometimes he seems to lose himself in the relay, and sometimes he seems very present, if not entirely coherent. "How are you? Did you sleep well?"

"How many years awake or sleepy? How many mornings to be or not to be?" Oliver recites. "And now I feel restored."

"Okay, all done," Kerry says. "Syd, you're up."

Oliver gets up and Syd takes his seat. Kerry puts fresh electrodes on a tray and gives the tray to Syd. "Put these here, here, and here," she says, pointing at spots on her own head. Syd complies.

"We'll do your security scans first," Cary says. "And then—" He hesitates.

"We want to do soul tests," Kerry says, obviously excited. "Is that okay?"

"Sure," Syd says. "Ah, what do you need?"

"We understand the body, and mostly understand the mind," Cary says, as he types on his keyboard. "But the soul is— Quite honestly we know very little except that it exists. Your powers are our best hope for analyzing its properties."

"And then we want you to swap with us," Kerry says, eagerly.

"Kerry," Cary cautions.

"Cary, we need to know," Kerry insists. "Either we have one soul or two. I need to understand us and I can't do that until we figure this out."

Cary makes a displeased noise, but doesn't argue. "We have to get everyone’s tests done first. We don't know how the swap will affects us. It made David feel strange for weeks and we don't understand why. Quite honestly, Syd, we should have studied your powers much sooner. But David and Oliver and— Well. A lot of things fell by the wayside." He turns to Ptonomy. “Could you ask Lenny to wake the Davids up and bring them here?”

They run her through the scans, then she gets a trip through the MRI. By the time that’s done, Lenny and David have arrived. Dvd and Divad are with them, and once again Syd is stuck listening to a fraction of the conversation. Her next set of transcripts can’t come soon enough.

David gets scanned next, and then the same tests are run with Dvd and then Divad in their body. One of the research team brings in snacks during all this, and Syd nibbles at her food as she watches.

Finally it's her turn again. She sits in the exam chair for the soul tests. Divad stays embodied and sits with Cary, eager to help.

Amy brings Matilda over, and Kerry gives her a scritch. "Such a good kitty," Kerry coos. "Now hold still." She slides some kind of netting over Matilda's head. It has wires attached to it, leading to the the same kind of machine that Syd is hooked up to.

"We thought we'd start with Matilda," Cary explains. "You said the process is identical with her as it is with humans?"

"With humans," Syd says. "With mutants, it's— It can be more powerful."

Cary gives a thoughtful hum. "Your interactions with David. Quite explosive, as I recall."

That's an understatement. Touching him sent them both flying, shattered glass, knocked bystanders off their feet. That's the main reason she's avoided swapping with mutants ever since. "It wasn't so bad with Walter, but— Kerry, I know you're eager to figure this out, but I don't want to hurt you."

"I can handle a little explosion," Kerry says, confidently.

"At what proximity do you start to feel the needles?" Cary asks.

"It has to be pretty close," Syd says. "Almost touching. But I keep a bigger distance for safety. Sudden movements, accidental bumps—"

"Sensible," Cary says, and types some more. "Okay. Let's start with Matilda. Keep the glove on and hold out your hand."

Syd holds out her hand as Amy slowly brings Matilda closer, pausing so Cary can collect his data. And then finally she's almost close enough to touch. "The needles started," she reports.

"Gradual or instant?" Cary asks.

"Gradual," Syd says. "It's stronger as we get closer."

Amy closes the last distance, and Matilda is flush against Syd's hand. Syd's palm prickles as her powers ready for the swap such closeness should trigger. But the lack of skin contact prevents that. She pets Matilda, and Matilda sniffs at her, curious but calm.

"Okay," Cary says, after some extensive typing. "Let's try it with the glove off."

They repeat the same test, then trigger the swap. Syd feels the familiar pull, the disorientation, and then— She's in Amy's arms and sees her body looking around in confusion.

"Kerry, give Matilda a treat," Cary says, and Kerry holds out a tray with a piece of chicken breast. Matilda sniffs it, then eats it, face first and open-mouthed.

"You don't feel the needles while your powers are activated, yes?" Cary asks.

"Mmyes," Syd meows. It took practice to simulate human speech with a cat's mouth and tongue, but she can do a passable job. Amy pets her back and Syd involuntarily purrs. It always takes effort to resist the instincts in the bodies she enters. Kerry pets Matilda's head, and Matilda rubs against her hand, trying to mark it.

"Very interesting," Cary murmurs, and peers at his screen, types some more. "Kerry, step away. Syd, go ahead and switch back."

Amy puts Syd down. Syd stops fighting the pull to return to her body, and in a blink— She tastes chicken.

"Good girl," Amy coos. She picks Matilda up from the chair and feeds her a much smaller piece of chicken.

They repeat the tests a few times, then it's time for the next step.

"Doctor Orwell," Syd greets.

"Syd," Doctor Orwell greets back. "Holding up okay?"

"I'm used to practicing with Matilda," Syd says. "Are you ready?"

"Extremely," Doctor Orwell says, grinning. She's Cary's second-in-command, not counting Kerry, and has always been very enthusiastic about studying mutants. Syd tries not to find that slightly alarming, given Division 3's history. Cary wouldn't trust her if she was looking to exploit and kill mutants instead of helping them.

When they touch, the switch is as effortless as it is with Matilda. Syd sees her own body staring in astonishment.

"How does it feel, Doctor Orwell?" Cary prompts.

"So strange," Doctor Orwell says. She touches her body, Syd's body, and then realizes. "Oh, excuse me," she tells Syd. "I didn't mean to—"

"It's all right," Syd says, hearing the different timbre of her voice. "It's what everybody does. It's not really my body."

"Do you feel like Syd?" Kerry asks Doctor Orwell.

"I don't know," Doctor Orwell says. "I've never experienced a different body before. It's very— Subjective."

"How long can you hold this?" Cary asks.

"I can hold a swap for hours," Syd offers. "I think the longest I've done was— Six?"

"I don't think we can spare that long right now," Cary says, sounding disappointed. "What happens if you touch your original body?"

They try. Nothing happens. "No needles," Syd reports.

"Fascinating," Cary says, peering at his screen. "Your brainwave patterns follow the swap, as expected. But the other readings stay the same." He types. "We need to do an MRI with this later to be sure, but it seems like— Your powers somehow isolate the occupying mind so that it doesn't integrate into the host body as a parasitic mind would. Your feeling that your body isn't entirely yours— Is that something you feel all the time, or only during swaps?"

"It's strongest when I'm using my powers," Syd says. "But it never completely goes away."

"That must be very difficult," Ptonomy says.

Syd shrugs and feels the pull of someone else's muscles. "I don't know how I'd feel without it." She thinks— It probably helped her survive the complete lack of touch she had growing up. She read that the absence of touch can actually kill infants. Even though her powers caused that problem, they must have also protected her.

When they finish with Doctor Orwell, Kerry asks her, "Do you feel like Syd now? David felt like Syd for weeks."

Doctor Orwell closes her eyes, concentrating on her body. "I just feel like myself."

"Good," Kerry says, relieved. "I mean, no offense, but— Things are already confusing enough," she tells Syd.

"I wonder why David felt differently," Cary ponders. "Perhaps because he's a mutant? It could still be an issue for us."

"We don't have to do this now," Syd offers again.

"We'll be all right," Cary assures her. "It's time we figured this out. And it will give me some very useful data." He turns to Divad. "Can you take over?"

“Got it," Divad says, and takes his seat.

Cary and Kerry put on their own sensors now, and any equipment that isn't needed is moved to a safe distance. Everyone else moves back, too.

"I'll go first," Cary insists, over Kerry's objection. "Same process as before."

Cary holds out his hand, and Syd slowly brings her own up to it. When she pauses at the point where the needles should start, she frowns, disconcerted.

"What's wrong?" Cary asks.

"I'm not—" Syd starts, then— She brings her gloved hand to Cary's. She grips it. "I don't feel any needles."

Cary and Kerry stare at each other. Cary stares at Syd. "Last year," he asks, disturbed. "When you touched Kerry—"

"I wasn't conscious," Syd says. "Farouk took control. No one swapped bodies, he just— Hopped through us."

"Take off your glove," Cary demands. "Swap with me."

Syd takes off her glove and— Touches Cary's hand. Nothing happens. "Jesus," she whispers. He's not an android, how is this—

"Dear god," Cary murmurs. He's gone pale. He reaches up and touches Syd's bare upper arm. He touches her face. Nothing happens. "What does this mean?" he asks, desperate.

"Let me try," Kerry insists.

"Glove first," Cary says, but Kerry's already reaching out. Syd feels the needles the moment before Kerry's hand touches her arm, and then—

It's like David. The contact shock knocks them all off their feet, and Syd ends up on her back, dazed. She feels— A female body. Kerry's. She sits up and sees Cary and her own body are both unconscious. She crawls over to her body and shakes it. "Kerry?" she calls.

Kerry stirs and moans. "Whoa," she says, opening her eyes. "That was wild. Cary, are you okay?"

"Cary," Divad calls, concerned. He's kneeling beside Cary. "He's not breathing!"

The research team rushes over, emergency equipment in hand. Ptonomy pulls Divad back, and Divad stares, distraught.

"What's going on?" Kerry asks, worried. She tries to force her way into the huddle but Syd pulls her back. Kerry's body is remarkably strong. "Let me go!" Kerry demands, struggling.

"Let them help him," Syd says.

"You don't understand!" Kerry says. "If he's hurt, I have to heal him! That's what he always did for me!"

"Let her," Ptonomy says, and Syd reverses the swap.

Kerry rushes to Cary's side. She lays down over him, but— Nothing happens. Kerry tries to force him into her, but nothing happens. She stares at Syd, betrayed. "You broke us! You killed him!"

"No," Syd breathes, horrified. She looks to the others for help. Amy pulls Kerry back and the research team starts resuscitation.

"Cary!" Kerry sobs, inconsolable as Amy holds her tight.

Agonizing minutes pass. And then the researchers step back. One of them shakes his head.

Kerry howls in agony, and Oliver cries out and grabs his head in pain.

Syd steps back, shaking her head, denying. Cary can't be dead. Cary can't be dead because of her.

"Cary," Oliver says, and Syd looks to see— He's crying. He wipes the tears away, but they keep coming. And then— "Cary?"

Kerry goes still. "Cary?"

"What's happening?" Divad asks.

"I hear him!" Kerry says, grinning through her tears. "Cary, I hear you! You're inside me again!" Her smile fades, and she reaches into herself. She searches around, looking for something, then stares at Cary's body on the floor. "Cary, we have to get your body back inside me. You got— You got pulled apart."

"Can we put him on life support?" Ptonomy asks.

"He'll be brain dead," Doctor Orwell says, distraught.

"His mind is safe," Ptonomy says. "We have to save his body. Do whatever it takes."

Doctor Orwell nods, and the research team gets back to work.

Chapter 116: Day 12: A sky full of stars. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

Oliver's head is resounding with other people's emotions and thoughts, so much that it's hard to hear and feel his own. His own recovery is as important as David and Syd's, he knows that. Cary's always reminding him of that. But Ptonomy needs the relay to save the world.

Cary's body is lying empty now, hooked up to machines that keep its heart pumping, its lungs breathing. He's been disembodied like Ptonomy and Amy and Lenny, but his body isn't dead. His soul was ripped out of it like Melanie's, all connections broken.

He wonders if they'll have to freeze Cary, too.

Melanie. He remembers her smile in lamplight in a room in China. He wants to remember more about her, but— It still feels out of reach. He looks at pictures, he hears stories, but they're not enough. He's been wondering lately— Who he is. He's Oliver Anthony Bird, obviously, he always has been. And he helps people. That feels right. But the rest—

Cary wants him to be who he was, he wants the old Oliver back. That's what Melanie wanted, too. Oliver didn't know that then, but now he can make enough connections to recognize it.

Maybe he just needs more time, more sleep, more memory therapy. All those things are helping, he can feel it. His body feels more like his body, more a part of him and not merely something he's inside. It's easier to remember new things and he feels less confused and adrift. But the more his detachment fades, the more he's aware that— There's very little left of who he used to be. Even if his old memories are still inside him— Will remembering them restore him? Or is he someone else now? And if so, who?

David has similar questions and thinks them endlessly. Oliver wonders if listening to David's self-questioning is causing his own. Listening to everyone's grief is certainly painful. He can't seem to stop the tears from leaking out of his eyes. It's all terribly absurd. He can't remember anything about the life he supposedly shared with Cary. All those stories are still just stories. It must be everyone else's grief that's making him cry.

"One more for team 'ain't got no body'," Lenny sighs.

"Don't say that," Kerry says. "We're gonna fix him."

Kerry's grief is the worst, though it's more tolerable now. The moment when she thought Cary was dead— Her pain was an explosion and Oliver still has a headache from it. David was lucky to be wearing the crown or that would have been a terrible blow.

"We'll do everything we can," Ptonomy assures her.

"Then take the crown off the Davids and let them fix us," Kerry demands.

"Not until we know more about what we're dealing with," Ptonomy says, firmly. "Rushing into things is what put us in this situation."

Kerry's guilt spikes, and her anger, and then her grief again. "I just wanted to know what we are."

"Everything we're dealing with is new," Ptonomy says. "We don't understand the soul or its relationship to mutant powers, or how your and Syd's powers actually work. What happened was a terrible accident. Even if we'd been more careful, the result probably would have been the same."

"He's right," Divad says. "It's not your fault or Syd's fault. Any more than— What happened in Clockworks was David or Syd's fault."

'I'm sensing a trend,' Syd thinks, unhappily. She's sitting as far away from everyone else as she can— Or she was until Lenny sat next to her, refusing to let her isolate. Syd pretended to be annoyed but she was grateful.

"Cary, how are you feeling?" Amy asks. She's been holding Kerry since they were allowed into the infirmary to sit with Cary's body.

'Alive,' Cary thinks, but he's very unhappy. Oliver's relaying for him now, too, and Oliver hopes no one else gets disembodied because he feels he's at his limit for how many minds he can focus on at once.

Cary's been thinking a great many black thoughts since he woke up inside of Kerry without his body. Cary's thoughts have often been fearful since Oliver met him on the astral plane, but never this bad. Oliver finds his lack of hope— Concerning.

At least he's not dissociating. When he realized what had happened, he nearly did what he did yesterday, but everyone worked to coax him back. Cary doesn't want to stop existing any more than David does, but it's taking a great deal of effort for him to stay.

"Can't Cary just— Take charge?" David asks.

"I don't know," Kerry says, at a loss. "I don't think so. We never—" Her chin wobbles.

Divad stands up. "I have to look at the test results."

Kerry clings to Amy and cries. Amy hushes her. She looks up at Divad. "The test results can wait. This has been a terrible shock."

"What if we can fix them right now?" Divad presses.

"Do you know how to safely put half a soul back into a physical projection of a mutant DID system?" Ptonomy challenges.

Divad falters. "No, but—"

"Cary's mind is safely with Kerry, and his body is on life support," Ptonomy says. "If there's a way to reunite them, we'll find it. The research team is already looking over the data."

"I need to see it myself," Divad insists.

"You will," Ptonomy allows. "But the situation is stable and we have a lot of people helping us, good people. We have to trust them to do their job so we can do ours."

"Are you nuts?" Dvd says, angrily. "We can't just leave them like this!"

"And we can't risk making things worse," Ptonomy says. "We don't know what kind of damage there is. We don't have the tools to examine Cary and Kerry's soul or whatever connects their soul to their bodies. This all could have been much, much worse."

That sobers everyone, even Dvd.

"Okay," David says. "So what can we do?"

Ptonomy considers the question. "We've faced a lot of crises since this started. I know this is a bad one, but we have to do the same thing we've been doing. We have to keep doing the work." At the general air of dismay, Ptonomy continues. "I think Farouk realized something when he was inside Kerry. He saw that she was a physical projection."

"Melanie said one of us wasn't real," Kerry says, her eyes locked on Cary's body.

"That was the monster's truth," Ptonomy warns. "You're both real, just like Dvd and Divad are as real as David. You're a system like them, and your mutant powers need to be understood in that context. Cary, you used to believe Kerry hid inside you. Now we can look at that differently. Your powers didn't allow Kerry to hide, they gave her a way to come out."

'And now I'm trapped,' Cary thinks.

"We'll get you out again," Ptonomy promises. "But it's probably going to take some time. And I'm sorry, but we have to remember the big picture."

'Yes, torturing me and Kerry is just a— An occasional hobby for Farouk,' Cary thinks, angrily. 'Sometimes I wish we'd never—'

He cuts himself off, but David, Divad, and Dvd all react anyway, guilt and anger coming off them in waves. 'Our fault his fault my fault' thoughts all happen at once, blurring together.

"At least one of you got it right," Lenny says.

"Sorry," Divad and David both say.

'I'm always right,' Dvd thinks. 'Fuck the shit beetle. When we get the crown off, we should kill him first, then fix Cary.'

'Keep thinking like that and Ptonomy's never gonna let us help,' Divad chides back.

'Like he's gonna let us help anyway,' Dvd grumbles. 'This is bullshit.'

'Are they talking to each other again?' David thinks. 'I wish I could talk to Syd. I should have just— Let her keep the relay yesterday.'

'Syd is not getting the relay,' Dvd thinks.

'Would it really be that bad?' Divad asks. 'I want her to hear me, too.'

'Absolutely not,' Dvd thinks, angrily. 'Look what she did to Kerry!'

'That wasn't her fault,' Divad chides. 'They asked her to do this, they touched her. How is it her fault?'

'Don't get all logical at me,' Dvd says, annoyed. 'If Syd wasn't around—'

'What?' Divad prods. 'If Syd wasn't around, we'd still be drooling it up on insane amounts of Haldol. Or worse. God knows what Farouk would have done to us.'

'I would've stopped him,' Dvd insists.

Divad scoffs. 'Spare me your delusions of grandeur.'

"All right, break it up," Ptonomy warns.

'I knew they were talking,' David thinks. "Can you two please stop hiding your conversations from me?"

'Not if we don't have to,' Dvd thinks.

"I'm sorry," Divad says. "Force of habit." 'I agree with you, David, we should let Syd have the relay,' he thinks.

"Absolutely not," Dvd says.

'She helped us yesterday,' Divad points out. ‘All of us.’

"I'm the one who keeps David safe, even when he can't," Dvd declares. "I know what he needs, and he is absolutely not ready to let Syd crawl back into our head no matter what he says!"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," David mutters.

"Hey, what did you say yesterday?" Dvd says. "You need to process what she did to us. Have you done that yet? Did you have time to even think about all that? No, because Syd blew up Cary!"

Divad sighs. 'He's got a point.'

"So let's just— Rip the bandaid off," David says. "Ptonomy, can we please just— Get this done?"

Ptonomy considers it. "Okay. We'll have a session so we can talk about what happened, see where you're at. I'm glad you're motivated, but we need to be careful or we'll end up with another crisis."

"You're right.” David sighs. “You're right."

"Syd, how are you doing?" Ptonomy asks.

"Um, not great," Syd admits. "I'm sorry, I know you wanted to work with me first, but—"

"It's okay," Ptonomy says. He looks around, taking stock. "Oliver? You're still crying."

"I am?" Oliver touches his cheek. It's wet. "Oh. My apologizes."

"I think you need a break from the relay," Ptonomy says. "I don't need it to talk to David, and Syd's not in any shape for therapy right now."

"What about Cary?" Kerry asks.

"You can relay for Cary," Ptonomy says. "Or maybe you two should try doing what the Davids do. See if Cary can speak for himself."

"I dunno," Kerry says, uncertain. "That's— Not really how we work."

"It's Cary," Divad says. "You trust him, don't you?"

"Of course," Kerry insists. "I mean— I always felt like his body was my body. And now I guess— My body is his body, but— I dunno."

"Let's divide and conquer," Ptonomy says. "I think Syd needs a break, too. Lenny, can you take her for a walk, maybe some fresh air?"

"Aye aye, Cap'n," Lenny says, and turns to Syd. "Hey, we can get you some actual breakfast."

"I'll take the Davids," Ptonomy says. "Amy, are you okay with Kerry, Cary, and Oliver?"

"We'll be fine," Amy says. "Kerry, would you like breakfast, too?"

"'m not hungry," Kerry pouts.

"Oliver, are you hungry?" Amy asks.

"I'm—" Oliver pauses, thinks. It's been so hard to tell how he feels under everyone else's grief. Now that they're calming down—

"You don't have to relay right now," Ptonomy reminds him. "Take a break, okay? You had a shock, too."

Oliver stops relaying and feels a sharp sense of relief, but also— Something else. A kind of pressure in his chest. He wipes at his face again. The tears won't stop, he doesn't understand it.

"I don't—" he tries, looking to Ptonomy for help. "I feel—"

"Sad?" Ptonomy suggests, gently. "Tears usually mean you're sad."

Everyone's focused on Oliver now, wondering what's wrong with him, if he's okay. Oliver wants to say he's fine, except— It wouldn't be the truth. He doesn't feel fine at all.

"Cary's going to be okay," Ptonomy promises. "But we had a bad scare. It's natural for that to bring up a lot of feelings and memories. Let yourself experience them, reconnect with them. Take them back."

"What’s to be done about death?" Oliver asks. "Nothing, nothing. Death is the shadow cast by Rockefeller Center over your intimate street."

"A memory?" Ptonomy prompts. "From China? A lot of people died there."

Oliver shakes his head. Whatever he's feeling, it's not from then. It feels— Later? Is later a feeling? For so long there was only now, the past nothing but a blank fog, the future only— More of the same sameness, repeated forever and never, for how can a thing hope to repeat if you can't remember it happened?

"One funeral a year," Oliver finds himself continuing. "Forty's only half a life to have filled."

"Cary?" Ptonomy calls, turning to Kerry. "Does any of this make sense to you?"

'Um, uh—' Cary thinks. 'Perhaps— It's related to Summerland? We lost so many people to the war.'

"Cary says it might be about the war," Kerry relays. "A lot of people died."

"They did," Ptonomy says, soberly. "Rudy was the last, but— This is an old memory. At least twenty-two years old, right? So what happened at the beginning?"

'Oliver and Melanie recruited us,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays. 'The early days were— Wonderful. When Summerland was ready, we started traveling, rescuing mutants, bringing them to safety. Helping them heal so they could help others. But— The Divisions were hunting mutants, too. They didn't know what we were, they thought— We were like them. We couldn't risk them finding out the truth. Oliver protected all of us, erased our existence from thousands of minds, helped us create— Defenses around Summerland. What was meant to be the start of a new world became— Our only refuge. A psychic fortress.'

"But Division 3 found us," Divad says.

'Your system is so powerful that— Oliver's old defenses couldn't shield you,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays. 'Until you, Summerland was never breached. But the world wasn't safe for mutants. There were so many we tried to save, so many who— Fell in the attempt of saving their own kind. The Divisions were— Absolutely ruthless. Genocidal. It was— A very hard time for all of us. That's when Oliver started to spend more and more time on the astral plane, seeking— Relief, I suppose. It was bad for all of us, but— Oliver must have heard— Thousands of mutant minds snuffed out.'

"Oh no," Amy gasps, softly. "Oliver, I'm so sorry."

"Now I have built my love a sepulchre of whitened thoughts, and sat a year in ash," Oliver recites, the pain in his chest growing greater. He doesn't want this feeling, but it's impossible to resist it. "Grieving for the lost entempled dead. Bigger and bigger gates, thou givest Lord, and vaster deaths."

"Oliver," Ptonomy says, concerned. "If Cary's right, this is a very bad memory. If you're not ready for it, let it go. You lost yourself to escape it before. We don't want to lose you again."

Oliver tries, but— Fragments of memory flash before his eyes, like they did for China. But this time it's not rain and coffee but a sky full of stars, bright and beautiful and then snuffed out, one by one. Too fast to save but a few, though he tries to warn them all. So many of them don't understand, don't believe. Often they're too young, babies murdered in their cribs, children taken and slaughtered. A sob bursts from Oliver's chest.

Kerry gets up and goes to him. "Oliver," she says, and Cary thinks. She sits in his lap and hugs him tight. "It's okay now," she tells him. "The war's over. We stopped it, okay? David helped us stop it. And that means you helped us stop it because you helped David. It's over."

"It's over?" Oliver asks, uncertain.

'It's over,' Cary thinks. 'I don't know how much you remember, maybe you shouldn't ever remember all of that, but— Remember that we stopped it. It took a long time but we stopped it.'

"This place," Oliver says, with slow realization. "It's— Them. The Divisions. Why are we here?"

'Because they lost,' Cary thinks, with pride. 'They lost and we won, and now we have what you always wanted, Oliver. We have the power to change the world. They have to listen to us, after all these years.'

Oliver wants that to be enough. A happy ending, mutantkind finally safe. But the flashes keep coming. Not just distant minds, but patients, friends. So much death and pain.

And Cary. Cary beside him and Melanie, grieving with them. Cary. His best friend. Cary.

"Cary," Oliver says, astonished. "Cary, I— I remember you."

'Oliver,' Cary thinks, full of emotions, grief, joy, relief. 'Thank god. Please, please keep remembering.'

Oliver holds on to them, clings to them as the tide of memories threatens to sweep him away. He sobs and the tears keep falling.

Chapter 117: Day 12: It's not torture. (David)

Chapter Text

Oliver remembers. He remembers Cary and Melanie and— David's not sure what else, exactly, but— Just like that, a huge chunk of his life came back to him. The memories were inside him, waiting. He'd finally healed enough to connect with them again, and all he needed was a strong enough reminder.

Cary's disembodiment was a hell of a reminder.

David's trying his best to not be agonizingly jealous. Oliver’s devastated from remembering all that. When Oliver got lost, David was only what, nine years old? And that was apparently the worst of the war, when the Divisions were— Slaughtering mutants—

It's hard for David to even imagine that kind of— What kind of monsters would do that? There's no other word for it but evil. Is it worse than Farouk's evil? It feels worse.

"How are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks, from the other side of the picnic table.

After everything that happened, Ptonomy thought the garden might be a helpful setting for their session. And Oliver— Oliver's not going to be relaying for a while. David already misses the relay.

"Hey, you've still got us," Dvd says, from the bench he and Divad are sharing. "We've always heard your thoughts. It's how we helped you."

"Maybe don't bring that up," Divad mutters.

Dvd starts to protest, then thinks better of it.

David stares down at his latest round of foundation work and tries to focus. "Um." He rubs his face. "To be honest— Not great."

"This was a few shocks for all of us," Ptonomy says. "I know you wanted to get started on Syd, but I think we need to talk about how you're feeling before we do anything else."

"You're right," David says. He looks out at the city, the bright sunshine, the bustling streets. His chest hurts, a dull ache he can't get rid of.

"I can't hear what you're thinking, so let's do this the old-fashioned way," Ptonomy says. "Is this about Cary losing his body? Or Oliver remembering?"

"Oliver," David admits. "Those must have been— Oliver's worst memories."

"Probably," Ptonomy agrees. "His most powerful memories are coming back first. The traumatic thoughts of his patients. Falling in love with Melanie. Watching people he cared about suffer and die. Their deaths are probably what drove him to spend too much time on the astral plane, to escape all that pain. So in a way— They're the last memories he made before he became disembodied himself."

David remembers Kerry's wail of grief. He doesn't think he'll ever forget that, or the sight of Cary's lifeless body. Those memories feel burned into him, into his soul. Whatever the soul is.

"I want to remember," David admits. "I mean, obviously, but— If it helped Oliver to get his worst memories back—"

"Oliver's situation isn't the same as yours," Ptonomy says. "And his worst memories were— Grief over people he couldn't save. You were tortured."

"I know," David sighs.

"We can't control how Oliver's memories come back," Ptonomy continues. "We just have to take them as they come. With you we can target specific memories. Remember the matching jigsaw puzzle sets?"

David nods. "But when?"

"When you're ready," Ptonomy says. "The truth is, you're the one who's going to tell us when you genuinely need to recover a specific memory. Not just the general desire to remember, but when you hit one of those roadblocks we used to run into."

"I guess we haven't had one in a while," David realizes.

"You're doing really well, David," Ptonomy says, warmly. "You know, the goal of trauma therapy isn't to somehow— Put us back to what we used to be. It's to make the good moments longer and the bad moments shorter. Cary and Oliver aside— Are you feeling that?"

"I am," David says, recognizing that it's true. He thinks about yesterday, about last night. Fixing his lamp with his system. That's a powerful memory, too, one he wants to hold on to. "This morning, when Lenny woke us up— I felt— Good. Safe. It was—" He pauses. "I'm not used to waking up feeling that way. The, uh— The nightmares."

"We never really talked about those," Ptonomy says. "Would you like to talk about them now?"

David looks out at the city again. "They've always been— Mostly fear. The, um— The mask Farouk used, I called it the Devil with the Yellow Eyes. It was, uh. Sort of a man. Bald and fat with these— Spindly arms."

"We saw him," Ptonomy says, to David's surprise. "On the surveillance footage. Division 3 used a psychic filter. That's how we knew you were possessed."

"Could I— Could I see it?" David asks. He only has his memories, which— The ones he has from before they got Farouk out are hardly trustworthy.

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "I'll bring it up for you when we get back to the lab. I know you talked about the Devil with the Yellow Eyes with Doctor Poole."

"I thought I was crazy," David says, feeling the pull of those old feelings. "I saw it when I was— Tired or drunk or high, and— I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to be sober." He thinks of Benny, of all the things Divad told him about the real Benny. It's still hard to— Take all that in. "The um. The Benny stuff. It feels like— I don't know."

"Yesterday, you said you apologized to yourself for what happened."

"I did," David says. He's not sure if he feels ready to forgive himself, but— "I guess— It feels like it happened to someone else. I know it was me, but— Benny's gone and Amy and Philly didn't know, and—" He takes a breath to calm himself.

"You want confirmation," Ptonomy guesses. "Evidence. Proof that it was real."

"I do," David admits. "I've been— There are things that— That help me. That make my past feel— Not just real, but mine. And with this—"

"Farouk took a lot," Ptonomy says. "But he did leave some things, even though he completely erased Benny."

David tries to engage with all of that, to find a way to— Move forward. But— "Can we— Go back to the nightmares?"

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "But before we do— Those years with Benny are a good candidate for memory work."

"But Benny's gone." In every sense of the word.

"He is," Ptonomy agrees. "We can't use the tank, for example, because as far as we can tell there's nothing to recover. But Divad and Dvd remember. They could show you their memories of Benny in the white room."

David stares at Ptonomy, then turns and stares at his headmates.

"Shit," Dvd mutters. Divad elbows him.

"We can do that," Divad says. "If that's what you need."

"Are you sure?" David asks. He doesn't want to hurt them.

Divad considers the question. "Maybe it'll be good for us, too. We can face it together. Get some closure."

“What did they say?” Ptonomy asks.

“Yes,” David relays. The thought of seeing all that—

"Why don't you add it to your therapy list?" Ptonomy suggests. "David, I'd like you to start to really focus on your therapy goals. What do you want to make progress on? What will help you be the person you want to be, and have the relationships you want to have?"

David looks at his therapy list. A lot of it is— Long term. He has no idea how long it'll take for him to build his new self. And looking over it again— "I guess these are— Kind of abstract?"

"Let's call them high level," Ptonomy suggests. "It's good to have them, but it would also be helpful to think about your immediate goals. I think you're ready for that now. You already have two things, so how about starting a list?"

"So like— Long term and short term?" David asks, considering. He chews on his lower lip as he re-reads the list again. He tries to imagine crossing off any of the items, and— Somehow that feels wrong. Most of the items are— Things he needs to remember to do for the rest of his life. They'll never be done. "Maybe a new list?"

"If that feels right," Ptonomy says.

"Like a— to-do list," David says, and starts a new section. To-do, he writes, feeling— Simpler is better. What does he want to get done?

See the Devil with the Yellow Eyes
Process relationship with Syd
Share relay with Syd
Memory work for Benny (white room)
Possession trauma
Share our body together
Finish fixing the rocket lamp
Recover suppressed memories

He shows Ptonomy the list.

"Very nice," Ptonomy praises. "Keep adding to it. This is your therapy, David. You have the right to decide what you want and need from it."

David hears the flutter of paper and looks over to see Divad and Dvd both writing in their notebooks. David can't help but smile, seeing them copying him, pushing themselves forward. He's really proud of them.

They both pause. They look up and smile back at him. David's smile becomes a grin.

"What's that for?" Ptonomy asks.

"Um, Divad and Dvd are, uh, making their own to-do lists," David says. "It's really— Nice, doing this together. You're right, it— It's really helping."

"I'm really glad to hear that," Ptonomy says, smiling too.

David reads over the new list again, then again. This is his therapy. It's not— Something happening to him that he has to endure. It's something he's choosing to do to help himself heal.

It's not torture.

"It's not torture," he says, amazed. "Therapy. It was always— But this—" He grips his notebook. "This isn't." The foundation work, it's—

Good moments longer and bad moments shorter.

He goes back to his therapy list and adds that. Make good moments longer and bad moments shorter.

"My foundation work's going to start needing two pages," David jokes. Especially since he has to fit in all those NOs at the end.

"You should be proud of that," Ptonomy says. "You built that, David. We all helped but you built it, you made it yours."

David thinks back over all the moments that added to his foundation work. Lenny and Syd's lists. Ptonomy's guidance. And his foundation and mantra—

Cary gave him those. At the start, it was Cary.

"Do you think— We'll find a way to help Cary?" David asks, hopeful.

"I don't think any of us are going to give up on him," Ptonomy says, certain. "Cary's helped a lot of people over the years, and he's never asked for anything in return. He just wanted to help us heal. So we're going to do everything we can to return the favor."

David nods. Then he adds, Help Cary heal to his to-do list. He takes a deep breath, lets it out.

"My nightmares," he says, not wanting to leave the thought unfinished. "Do you think they'll ever stop?"

"With time, yes," Ptonomy says. "Dreams are our mind's way of processing our experiences. Getting closure, forgiveness, resolution for your trauma should help a lot." He pauses, considering something. Then he gives David a serious look. "David. You're aware that— The nightmares you’ve experienced— Farouk created or manipulated them."

"He used to," David says. "But he's out now."

"Shit," Dvd mutters, and Divad elbows him again. Dvd elbows him back.

David has a sinking feeling. It's unpleasantly familiar. "This is one of those things you didn't want to tell me, right?" He thought they were done with those, but of course there's more. His life is a bottomless pit of awful things people don't want to tell him.

Ptonomy considers the question. "Let's call it— One of the things you didn't want to tell yourself."

David raises his eyebrows.

"Farouk doesn't need to be inside you to affect your dreams," Ptonomy reminds him. "He entered your dreams to blackmail you into not killing yourself. You didn't want to think about that, right?"

Shit. "Right," David sighs. He really didn't want to think about it.

"You know Farouk has been trying to get back inside you," Ptonomy continues. "Dvd and Divad have been doing everything they can to keep your system safe. But we need sleep and dreams to be healthy. There's no way around that, any more than— The need for air, food, water."

"So you have to let me dream," David says. "And Farouk can get to me through my dreams."

"He can," Ptonomy admits. "And if we let you remember what he does to you, he could sabotage your therapy. But if you can't remember the dreams, in some sense— They never happened."

"So every night, Farouk goes into my head and tortures me," David says, incredibly unhappy. "And there's nothing we can do to stop it."

"There absolutely is," Ptonomy says. "We can stop Farouk."

"Right," David says, and rubs at his face. He closes his eyes, tries to process this. They're right, he already knew this could happen. But he didn't want to face it and— He was a brittle disaster, barely able to handle existing, much less— Going to sleep at night with the knowledge he was basically handing himself over to the shit beetle to be tortured. God. "What's he doing to me?"

"We have no way to know," Ptonomy says. "Letting you remember your dreams isn't an option. It's incredibly hard to heal when you're being tortured. That's why despite all the work you did before this, you never got better. It wasn't just the misdiagnosis. This progress you're making now, you can do that because we found a way to keep you safe."

"I don't feel safe now," David admits.

"I know," Ptonomy says. "But you need the truth, and I think you're strong enough to face it. Divad and Dvd have been facing it all this time. They're doing the work even though they're scared because they know it's our best shot."

David looks at his headmates again. They look back, apologetic but— Determined.

David rests his elbows on the table, his face in his hands. He didn't want to think about Farouk having a way back into his head, he really didn't. But everyone else had to face it, to find a way to keep him— As safe as they could.

"Okay," David says, and straightens up.

"Okay?" Ptonomy asks.

"I'm not happy about it," David admits. "And frankly it's a good thing you guys can just make my brain go to sleep because I will not be able to close my eyes tonight without help. But whatever he's doing to me— I don't want it. If this is the only way we can stop him, then— Okay."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, accepting. "You handled that very well, by the way. You should be proud of that."

David musters half a smile, briefly.

"That was a lot," Ptonomy says. "Take a moment. Check in with yourself."

David does. He takes some slow breaths, steadying himself. He mentally recites his foundation and mantra.

"Would you like to talk more about the nightmares?" Ptonomy asks. "About what's in the ones you do remember?"

"Not right now," David says. He doesn’t feel up to that anymore.

"That's fine," Ptonomy says. "Maybe put it in your to-do list?"

That's a good idea. David does it. It helps him feel— More in control, to have the to-do list. To see all the specific things he needs to work on, even if he can't work on them right away. "This is really helpful," he says, wanting Ptonomy to know. "I feel more in control."

“That’s what we want,” Ptonomy praises. “So looking at that list, what do you want to work on next?”

David thinks about that. He still wants to get to his Syd trauma, but— He needs a break first. He needs touch. “I know we usually— Could I take a break to be with Divad?”

At the request, Divad perks up and Dvd wilts. David feels a pang of guilt, but— He hasn’t processed his relationship with Dvd any more than he has his relationship with Syd.

He adds process relationship with Dvd to his to-do list. Then after a pause he adds process relationship with Benny, and then after another pause, process relationship with Philly.

He wonders if he should add Divad, but— It doesn’t feel necessary right now. If that changes he can just add it later.

“I think that's a good idea," Ptonomy says. "Until Oliver's feeling better, we're going to have to handle things a little differently. I don't want any part of your system to be isolated from us for too long. Are the three of you comfortable taking short turns?"

"I'm good," Divad says.

"It's fine," Dvd shrugs.

"We can handle it," David relays. He needs to get used to sharing their body. He's not ready to share it together, but— Maybe this will help him take another step closer.

"We'll try to keep it balanced," Ptonomy says. "But David, that's a big list. And I don't want you to have to depend entirely on Divad for your recovery periods, that's not good for him or you. So you're probably going to need more embodiment time today than your headmates. Are they okay with that?"

David looks, and they both nod. "Yeah," David relays. "We're, uh— Not going to try to get all of this done today, are we?"

"No," Ptonomy says, mildly amused. "But I'd like us to do as much as we can."

"Me too," David admits. "Okay. Could you, um, keep our body steady?"

Ptonomy gets up and holds David, bracing his body and head. David steps out, takes his usual moment to enjoy the relief of being a mental projection, and goes over to his headmates.

"Your turn," David says to Dvd, apologetic.

Dvd gives a long-suffering sigh and trudges over to their body.

David sits close to Divad, and Divad puts an arm around his back, offers his other hand for David to take. David takes it, gives it a squeeze. He needed this.

"This'll be good for him," Divad says, and squeezes back.

Chapter 118: Day 12: He's not used to talking about his feelings. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

"How are you feeling, Dvd?" Ptonomy asks, from the other side of the picnic table.

"Fine," Dvd says, staring Ptonomy down. It's a lie but Ptonomy doesn't know that. With Oliver down, Dvd can think whatever he wants and no one will know. That’s the way it’s always been, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Ugh, no one except the shit beetle. God he hates this crown.

"You had a tough day yesterday," Ptonony continues. "I'd like us to work together to make today a little better for you."

Dvd narrows their eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means what I said," Ptonomy says, unruffled. "I know you and Divad were paying close attention to what David just did. Now it's your turn. What do you want to make progress on? What will help you be the person you want to be, and have the relationships you want to have? What will help you make the good moments longer and the bad ones shorter?"

Dvd doesn't know how to answer any of that.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, when Dvd doesn't reply. "How about you show me your foundation work?"

He slides a notebook over to him. Dvd looks at it warily. It has his name written on the front: Dvd Haller.

It's still weird to have a last name.

"Your physical notebook, remember?" Ptonomy says. "Just like David has, and there's one for Divad, too. Go ahead, open it up."

Dvd reluctantly flips it open. It's blank, of course. Not that his mental notebook is much better. Dvd resigns himself to having to write out his foundation work, even though he doesn't want Ptonomy to see how pathetic it is. All of this is so humiliating. David might not think therapy is torture anymore, but it's still torture for Dvd.

He starts writing, pushing through to get it done as fast as he can, his letters coming out hard and angular. Foundation, mantra, love advice— Shit, still nothing for his wish list. He leaves it empty and writes the therapy list, and then the new to-do list. He and Divad both moved the last items from their therapy lists to their to-do lists, so at least Dvd has one thing for that.

He slides the notebook back to Ptonomy and waits.

"Think about my future," Ptonomy reads, echoing the last line. He slides the notebook back. "You're doing a great job, Dvd. You should be proud of this."

It's not the reaction Dvd expected. "Is that a joke?" he asks, suspicious.

"Absolutely not," Ptonomy assures him. "I know how hard this is for you. But you're a very brave and determined person, just like your headmates. You refuse to let your fear and pain win. I know David and Divad are both proud of you for that."

Dvd looks over at them, uncertain. They're sitting together, all snuggled up, and Dvd is painfully jealous.

"We are," Divad says, certain.

"We're really proud of you," David adds, and gives him an encouraging smile.

Dvd musters half a smile back, then looks back down at his notebook, feeling suddenly overcome. He's not used to— Being the one who needs help. It's always been his job to help David, to defend and protect him. And now—

"Would you like to talk about what happened this morning?" Ptonomy asks.

Dvd hesitates, shrugs. He's definitely not used to talking about his feelings, or even accepting that he has them— At least any feelings besides anger at the shit beetle and Divad, and love for David. Those were the only feelings he needed. Everything else—

"It must have been scary, seeing Kerry and Cary get hurt," Ptonomy says. "You haven't let yourself get close to many people. I know they mean a lot to you."

Dvd gives a short nod.

"It must have been very hard for you to not be able to help them," Ptonomy continues. "And it's still hard, right? You just want to help them get better."

Dvd nods again. He swallows, looks away. Their chest hurts, but— Dvd isn't sure if it hurts because of his own feelings, or because of his headmates. Divad was the one in their body when it happened, and David—

David hurt so much, watching all of that.

Ptonomy gives Dvd a considering look. "Dvd, I want you to do something. Not for me, but for yourself. I want you to allow your headmates to hear your thoughts."

"No," Dvd says, automatically.

"I can see that you're in pain," Ptonomy says, gently. "And I know opening up is very hard for you."

"I don't need help," Dvd lies. “And I'm not gonna make David worse.”

"Do you think your thoughts will hurt David?" Ptonomy asks. "Is that why you didn't want to share your thoughts with him earlier?"

Damn it. Ptonomy must have heard that before Oliver stopped relaying. "I don't think, I know."

"Then how about just Divad?" Ptonomy tries. "Divad, would you be willing to help Dvd with his thoughts?"

"Absolutely," Divad says. "I want to help."

"I bet you do," Dvd mutters. "I don't need his help, I don't need anyone's help," he tells Ptonomy, firmly.

Ptonomy considers him again. "You know, you and Divad really helped Lenny yesterday. Getting her started on her foundation work, helping her move past Benny. You two did it together, but you're the one who made that happen."

Dvd shrugs. "It's my job to keep us safe."

"How did helping Lenny protect us?" Ptonomy asks.

"Because—" Dvd falters as he realizes where this is going. "Look, I just wanted to make sure we made up with Lenny like we're making up with Amy and Syd. She was a hole in our defenses."

"Because love is one of Farouk's weapons," Ptonomy says. "And your system loves Lenny."

Dvd shrugs again.

"How do you feel about Lenny, Dvd?" Ptonomy asks.

"You already know," Dvd says.

"I know how your system feels," Ptonomy says. "How do you feel? How do you, Dvd Haller, feel about Lenny Busker?"

Dvd sighs.

"It's hard for you to think that way," Ptonomy says. "To have your own individual wants and needs, your own feelings."

That's not how they worked, Dvd thinks. But he knows better than to say it. How they worked was— It was just more of the shit beetle's torture. Dvd's love for David was torture. Their eyes prickle again, but Dvd fights back the tears.

"Is that why you don't have anything for your wish list yet?" Ptonomy asks. "Because you don't know what you want?"

"No," Dvd says, annoyed. "I know what I want, I just—"

"Just what?" Ptonomy prompts.

Dvd stares down at the empty wish list.

"Do you think what you want is impossible?" Ptonomy asks. "Or do you think it's wrong?"

"Both," Dvd says, forcefully.

"I'd like you to write it down anyway," Ptonomy says. "You left some room, right? Let's fill it in."

"I'm not gonna wish for something I can't have," Dvd says.

"Wishes don't have to be realistic," Ptonomy says. "This isn't about what you're supposed to want. It's about what you do want right now, in your heart. Even if you think what you want is wrong or impossible. Even if it scares you."

"I'm not scared," Dvd insists.

"Prove it," Ptonomy challenges.

Dvd gives him a stubborn look and grabs his pen. Ptonomy wants his wish list? Fine, here it is. He shoves the notebook at Ptonomy and glares at him.

"'I want my system back,'" Ptonomy reads. "'I want my David back.' You think you can't have that?"

"Obviously," Dvd says. All of that is gone. Their system, his love for David— None of that should have ever happened in the first place.

"It must have hurt very much when you thought Cary was dead," Ptonomy says, gently. "Kerry's grief was— It knocked Oliver for a hell of a loop. But even without telepathy, we all felt it. We felt our own grief. And you felt David's."

Dvd swallows against the tightness in their throat.

"Grief is a powerful emotion," Ptonomy continues. "And it's part of love. The more you love someone, the more it hurts to lose them. And you loved your David so much."

Tears prickle at their eyes and spill over. Dvd angrily wipes them away.

"Cary's disembodiment brought back a lot of painful memories for Oliver," Ptonomy says. "I think they did the same for you. Is that why you don't want Divad and David to hear your thoughts?"

Dvd gives a tight nod.

"Dvd," Divad says, concerned.

"Go," David urges, and Dvd looks to see Divad walking over.

"David needs you," Dvd insists.

"You need me too," Divad says.

It makes Dvd angry to see Divad being kind. It makes him furious. "Why the hell aren't you sad?" he challenges.

"I am," Divad says.

"Not enough," Dvd insists. "We grieve David together. You should be grieving, too."

Divad's at a loss. He looks back at David, then at Dvd. "I guess— I don't need to grieve him anymore."

Dvd makes a choked, angry sound. This pain shouldn't just be his. It's not right, it's not fair. David was ripped away from both of them. They both endured a decade of torture as they tried desperately to get him back. And in the end—

Divad sits down next to him. "I miss him, too. So much," Divad admits. "But our David isn't gone. I saw that yesterday. All the Benny stuff— David really has always been David. I don't need to grieve him because— The person he was with us, he's still that person, no matter how many memories Farouk took away."

"He's not the same," Dvd insists.

"Do you really want him to be?" Divad challenges, but gently. "He was in so much pain all the time. We never wanted that for him. And now he's healing, he's getting better. I want to be with him for that and so do you."

Dvd can't deny that he does.

"I know all that mattered was what he needed," Divad says. "But now he needs us to heal with him. He needs us to care about our own lives as much as his. That's what loving him means now. Not— living through him. Living beside him, with him."

"I don't want to let him go," Dvd says. Hot tears streak down their face.

"We don't have to," Divad says. "The things on your wish list— You already have them. But you have to— Let them have continuity."

Continuity. "What, they're the ship, too?" Dvd asks, warily.

"Yes," Divad says, certain. "We never stopped being a system, no matter how awful things got. And David never stopped being David. If you need to grieve for— Some fraction of what we used to be, that's okay. But don't love our pain more than you love the rest of us."

Dvd takes a sharp breath in. "That's not what I'm doing," he protests, even though—

Divad just looks at him, knowing.

"Dvd?" Ptonomy calls, concerned by his silence.

"Fuck you," Dvd says to Divad, but without heat. The tears have stopped, and he wipes their face dry. "Goddamn it. Were you saving that up, too?"

Divad gives a casual shrug. He's so pleased with himself, the smug asshole.

"You're really loving all this 'voice of reason' bullshit," Dvd sneers.

"Absolutely," Divad says, unashamed. "Look, you think I wanted to make us miserable? Of course not! I was just— Turned around. Now I'm pointed the right way. It's gonna be the same for you."

"What are you saying?" Dvd asks, warily.

"I don't know," Divad says. "Maybe— We can both love David the way we want to love him, as long as that means loving him the way he wants to be loved. And he has to know what will make us happy so he can love us back. Don't tell me you were ever happy before."

"I thought I was," Dvd mutters.

"No," Divad says. "We were just— Not miserable. Like Lenny. And we weren't even that."

Dvd wishes he could argue. He's never listened to Divad and he isn't eager to start now. But— Nothing he's saying is wrong.

Dvd rubs their face. He looks at his notebook. "Fuck," he sighs, and grabs his pen. "Fuck fuck fuck."

He crosses out his wish list items. He puts 'Accept our continuity' to his to-do list, and 'figure out what makes me happy,' and then—

He makes a new list. 'Things I Have'. He underlines the title, then writes underneath:
A system
Divad
David
Myself
Kerry
Cary
Amy
Lenny

He pauses, then adds:
Ptonomy
Oliver
Syd

"Better?" Ptonomy asks, when Dvd is finished writing.

Dvd nods.

"Could you catch me up?" Ptonomy asks.

Dvd huffs. Of all the times to not have the relay— "Divad said— I was loving David's pain more than I love David. That— I need to accept our continuity because I still have what I want."

"So you added that to you to-do list," Ptonomy says.

"Yeah," Dvd says. "If I already have my system and David, then— they shouldn't be on my wish list. But—" He takes a steadying breath. "I need help remembering what I have. So I made a list, like— Like David does."

David's always rattling off all the people he loves when he's trying to make himself feel better. Maybe he doesn't need a written list because he feels their love so intensely, but— Dvd needs one. He needs to see it, to know that— Their love for him is something he's felt at least once.

"That was really smart," Ptonomy praises. "I mean it, Dvd. You realized what you needed and you made a tool to help you get it. That's fantastic work."

Dvd gives a reluctant smile. He's not used to being praised, but— It's definitely not terrible.

"It looks like you have a lot of good things on that list," Ptonomy says. "A lot of people who care about you. And you care about them, right?"

Dvd nods. "Our system cares about them."

"How do you feel?" Ptonomy presses.

Dvd hesitates again. "I don't know. I guess— I'm not really angry anymore, but—"

"You're not sure what you feel without the anger?" Ptonomy guesses.

Dvd nods.

"Just now, you wanted Divad to feel the same grief you did, at the same time," Ptonomy continues. "Even though you claimed a lot of your system's anger for yourself, for everything else— You're only really used to experiencing your feelings with your headmates."

"I guess," Dvd says. It's just— How they worked.

"It's not surprising that it's so hard for you to engage with your emotions on your own," Ptonomy says. "I have some tools that can help you recognize and manage your emotions. One of them is to keep a journal of your feelings throughout the day. I can give you some worksheets when we get back to the lab. But the idea is simple. You start by checking in with yourself, like David does."

"Then what?" Dvd asks, warily.

"There's another tool you can use, it's called an emotion wheel. It’s like a color wheel. You look at all the different emotions and that will help you recognize which ones you're experiencing. Then you write down how you feel, emotionally and physically. Write down any ideas you have for why you're feeling that way. Then we can go over your feelings and talk about them."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Dvd says.

"It is," Ptonomy agrees. "But exercise is how we get strong. If you keep doing the work, you'll be able to recognize your feelings and manage your reactions. And that's on your therapy list, right?"

'That sounds really useful,' David thinks.

"We could all do it together," Divad offers. "Tell Ptonomy."

"Divad and David want to do the emotion things too," Dvd relays.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Ptonomy says. "In fact, I think it would be good for all of us."

"Doesn't that go against the whole— Feeling my emotions solo thing?" Dvd asks.

"Not at all," Ptonomy says. "Everyone will be feeling what they feel individually. But I think it'll be easier if we all do it together."

Dvd looks at Divad, at David. David looks better now, even though he's not holding anyone's hand. He thinks about Divad helping him with his foundation work yesterday, with his grief just now.

"Do you still, um— Think I should share my thoughts?" Dvd asks Ptonomy.

"I do," Ptonomy says. "I'd like Divad to share his thoughts, too. I think it will be good for all of you, for your relationships, for your progress as individuals and as a system."

"What if my thoughts hurt David?" Dvd presses.

"Then we'll deal with that, just like we've dealt with everything else," Ptonomy says. "David's pretty tough though, and he wants to help you get better. Give it a try, see how it goes. You can always stop if you need to, just like Oliver stopped."

That's true. With the relay involved, Dvd didn't have any control. But if he's the one choosing to share—

He's starting to understand why David liked his last session so much. Dvd wants to be in control, too. To not have to live through David, but— To live with him. For being together to make them both happy.

He really hopes he can make David happy.

David smiles. 'You just did,' he thinks back.

Chapter 119: Day 12: Original flavor Lenore Busker. (Lenny)

Chapter Text

"You know, you could eat so much food with that body," Lenny says, gazing longingly at the cafe menu. "Live a little. Have some cake."

Syd raises an eyebrow and sips her tea. That's all she wants and it's absolutely tragic. "Matilda ate a lot of chicken during those tests. In both bodies."

"So what's it like being a cat?" Lenny asks, curious.

"I'm not really a cat when we swap," Syd points out. "I'm me inside a cat."

"You purr and groom yourself. How is that not being a cat?"

"You should ask Matilda what it's like to be a human."

Lenny rolls her eyes, then tosses the menu down onto the table with a sigh. She slumps back in her chair and takes a moment to bask in the sunshine, to watch the people passing by the cafe's outdoor tables. Syd needed a break from D3, and so did Lenny.

"But seriously, what's it like being a cat?" Lenny presses.

Syd huffs, reluctantly amused. "It's a mixed bag. Everything's huge and you can't open doors. Everyone wants to touch you and they don't ask first. But you can go pretty much anywhere you want. If I ever wanted to be a spy, cats would be the way to go. Or maybe birds."

"Have you ever been a bird?" Lenny asks.

"Of course," Syd says. "But they're nervous, high energy. They don't sit calmly playing with some string until we swap back. So it can be—"

She trails off and stares down into her tea. Lenny doesn't need the relay to know what she's thinking about.

Everyone already told Syd it wasn't her fault, even Kerry — once Kerry calmed down enough to apologize. But Syd feels bad about it anyway. It reminds Lenny of last night, of Divad and Dvd forgiving her for things that she never did.

Lenny flags down their waiter and orders a cinnamon roll and a side of fries, and then asks for a triple-stack of waffles with extra syrup on the side, to go.

"The waffles are for the Davids," Lenny explains, once the waiter's gone.

"And the rest?" Syd asks.

"That's for me," Lenny says, savoring the anticipation.

"No cake?" Syd teases. "Don't you need the Admiral for food therapy?"

"Nah," Lenny says. "I only need scent to do memory work."

Syd perks up. "What are you trying to remember?"

"Me," Lenny says. "Original flavor Lenore Busker."

Syd eyes Lenny's notebook again. She's been doing that all morning. Looks like Syd’s as vulnerable to curiosity as the Davids are. "Is that what you worked on last night?"

"Pretty much," Lenny says. "If I'm gonna be the real me, then I gotta make my real memories stronger."

"Like Oliver?" Syd asks.

"Sort of," Lenny shrugs. "Don't expect anything dramatic. I already got my memories back. They're just hazy."

"So how do you make them stronger?" Syd asks.

"Connections," Lenny says, tapping the side of her head. "Ptonomy's got me writing everything down. If there's like, something sensory tied to the memory, I go over the memory again with the sensory stimulation."

"Is it working?"

"Fuck yeah," Lenny says, relieved. "Gonna give this bullshit the one-two punch. Dissociate from Lenny-Benny, and make lots of associations for Lenny-Lenny."

Syd visibly relaxes. "I'm glad to hear it," she says, offering a small smile. "I know it's been hard for you."

"I'm the one who chooses who I am," Lenny says, with feeling. "Even if my real memories are shit, they're mine.”

"So what's connected to cinnamon rolls and fries?" Syd asks.

"Plenty," Lenny says. She's not eager to share, her life's always been her own business, but— She's gotta model for Syd. She opens her notebook and flips through it, past pages of memories punctuated by the occasional page of foundation work.

Syd's eyebrows raise as Lenny keeps flipping. "You just got that notebook last night."

"No sleep and lots of motivation," Lenny explains. She needs a strong grip on herself if she wants to keep from drifting away again. And after a lifetime of trying to escape—

But that's in her therapy list. Stop trying to escape where she is and what she's been. Stand and fight for what she wants. She had some time to think about what she wants and added to her wish list: to be herself, to never be trapped again, and to never be a victim again.

Those things are definitely worth fighting for. And she's still going to want them after Farouk's dead and they all take that tropical vacation.

She's still browsing her memories when the fries and cinnamon roll arrive, both steaming hot. Lenny sticks her nose in the steam of the fries and breathes in deeply, and remembers—

"Late nights on the street," she says, her eyes closed. "A bad taste in my mouth and some crumpled up bills in my hand. I toss them on the counter and—" She takes another breath in. "Yeah, that takes me back. All that beautiful salt and grease." She picks up a fry and feels the warmth, the texture of it. She rubs it along her lips, licks it with her tongue, savoring it. A cheap treat at the end of another bad night, to make her shitty life just a little bit bearable.

She sighs and slides over the cinnamon roll.

"Now this," she says, a smirk already curling her lips. "This is a good one. Morning after, hungover, my girl and I followed our noses. I licked the frosting off her fingers. Made her giggle." She takes a deep breath in, smelling the intense sweetness, the rich cinnamon. She can almost feel the girl's sticky fingers in her mouth, and that makes her remember the taste of her own sticky fingers the night before. She can't remember that chick's name, assuming she ever knew it, but Lenny's never gonna forget the taste— Of her or the cinnamon roll.

She pulls off a piece of the cinnamon roll, savoring the slow rip of the gooey dough, then offers it to Syd. Syd hesitates, then takes it. Lenny watches her eat it, watches her lick her own fingers clean. It's not a perfect match to the memory, but—

Lenny sighs, pleased. The more she remembers it, the more she connects to it, the stronger the memory becomes, the more she feels like— What she thinks her real self used to feel like.

"Wanna fry?" Lenny offers.

Syd takes two and nibbles her way through them one at a time. If Lenny could eat, she'd stuff a whole handful of fries into her face, then wash it down with a swig of vodka for the perfect potato combination. God she misses eating and sleeping and just— Being alive. She knows she's not technically dead but she misses being alive.

She breathes in the steam from both the fries and the cinnamon bun until they start to cool. There's not much point to them once they stop steaming. She sighs and pushes them away. "All yours."

Syd takes another fry. They sit in a comfortable silence as she eats. Guess Matilda didn’t fill up on chicken after all. Lenny checks in on the surveillance cameras back at D3. It makes her restless, not having the relay, not hearing the Davids all the time and knowing exactly how they‘re feeling. She's been surrounded by other people's thoughts for so long—

But everything's okay. Oliver and— The Karries? The Loudermilks? Whatever. Amy's with them and Ptonomy's got the Davids in the garden.

"I guess— It feels like it happened to someone else," David says to Ptonomy. "I know it was me, but— Benny's gone and Amy and Philly didn't know, and—"

Lenny switches away from the surveillance feed. Ptonomy will send her David's session soon enough.

"You okay?" Syd asks.

"No," Lenny says, in no mood to pretend. "But that's why I'm doing the work, right?"

"Right," Syd says. She looks at her own notebook, flips it open. There's pages of foundation work and sketches of the Davids. She pauses on one sketch, and Lenny wonders what she's thinking.

Relay's down. But hey, there's always the old-fashioned way.

"Whatcha thinking?" Lenny asks.

"I'm sorry," Syd says, still looking at the sketch.

"For what?" Lenny prompts.

Syd takes a steadying breath and looks up. "For sending you into a wall."

Lenny grimaces.

"And for other things," Syd continues. "We never really— Got along and— That's my fault."

"It was," Lenny agrees. "But hey, it's not like I was big on letting people in either."

"You let David in," Syd counters.

"David let himself in," Lenny says. "Same as you. Just batted those baby blues at us and that was that."

"Do you remember how you two met?" Syd asks.

"Wish I didn’t," Lenny mutters, reminded again of yesterday’s Benny session and the way it pulled the rug out from under her. But fuck Benny. She flips through her notebook. "Lenny met David in Clockworks." She finds the memory and reads it again, trying to scratch it deeper into her mind. "I got stuck in that place a few weeks after him, and let me tell you, I was not happy about it. I tried to claw the faces off a few orderlies so they drugged me stupid and shoved me in a corner. Same corner they shoved David in after his freakouts. Just a couple of drugged-up reds. He was—"

She pauses. The memory of their real first meeting is still hazy, but the more she goes over it, the more it stings. She used to think the Benny-Lenny version was better, helping David escape his pain instead of— Adding to it. But now—

No.

She needs the truth. She needs her real feelings, her real actions, good and bad and awful.

"Bad?" Syd prompts.

"The worst," Lenny says. "But hey, you got a taste."

It's Syd's turn to grimace.

"I wasn't nice to him," Lenny admits. "I wasn't nice to anyone." She pauses, remembering— Bitter rage. She wanted everyone else to feel as shitty as she did, and everyone included the pathetic disaster that was David. It was easy to hurt him so she did. "Everyone in that place was fucked up, broken. It pissed me off. I, uh— Guess I didn't want to belong there."

Syd offers a wry half-smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Lenny says, dismissive.

"So how'd you become friends?" Syd asks.

"One day he got a care package. From Amy. He didn't open it, just— stared at it all sad. I was curious so I opened it for him." She grabbed it from him and played keep-away before opening it herself, figuring she'd just take what she wanted if there was anything good. "There was a letter inside. He took it and gave me everything else." She let him have the letter, she didn't care about letters. After he read it— He didn't want the box back anymore.

"What was in the letter?" Syd asks.

"The usual shit," Lenny says. "I love you, I miss you, I hope you're getting better, blah blah blah. And hey, I'm happily engaged now that you're locked up for good."

"Oh god," Syd says. "Did she really write that?"

"Nah," Lenny says. "Just the engagement part, but— He knew."

"Poor David," Syd says. "Amy's been so good with him with all this, I, uh— Forgot how bad things were."

"He looked like he might try to off himself again," Lenny admits. When her temper finally cooled off, she felt like shit for messing with him. "I didn't want him to do something stupid. So I started keeping him company when we weren't drugged stupid. Tried to cheer him up, shared some of the candy he gave me." Gave it back as an apology. "And then, uh— I guess it worked, because— He finally smiled. Probably for the first time since he got dumped there."

She remembers that smile. It was wobbly and weak but— Genuine. Hopeful, grateful, a little needy. It made her feel— Protective. Strong. He needed someone to look after him. She's never been the looking-after type, but— Somehow she is for David.

And David doesn't remember any of that, the actual foundation of their friendship. Or he probably doesn't. She doesn't know what Farouk left behind, and— She's afraid to ask. It makes her feel like Dvd and Divad and— Amy, too. They're all missing pieces from David's jigsaw puzzle head.

She really needs them to win this before she's too fucked up to care. She wants to make a clear and emotionally satisfying memory of the end of the shit beetle's existence, and then she never wants to think about him ever again. If anyone deserves to be forgotten, it's him.

She flips to her last foundation work page and adds that to her wish list. Fuck the shit beetle. He deserves a slow agonizing death but she just wants him gone as fast as possible.

"You must have been really good for him," Syd says, her eyes distant. "Looking back— I realize how much of his strength came from you." She focuses again, looks at Lenny directly. "Thank you for helping him."

"Uh, welcome," Lenny says, surprised. It's weird to get something other than wariness and hostility from Syd, but— It's not awful. "I guess you've been good for him, too."

Syd makes a dismissive sound.

"What, you don't believe me?" Lenny challenges.

"No, I just—" Syd crosses her arms. "Right now I don't feel good for anyone."

Lenny doesn't know how to help Syd feel less like shit for blowing up Cary and Kerry. It's a shitty situation. But she feels the need to try. Just because she remembers being an asshole doesn’t mean she has to stay one. "Look, I, uh— I forgive you for sending me into a wall."

"You don't have to," Syd protests.

"Maybe I want to," Lenny says. "Maybe I don't want to hold on to that shit anymore. The only person I blame is the shit beetle, and fuck him." She puts both middle fingers up, like she's seen the Davids do.

Syd cracks the tiniest smile. She puts up her own middle fingers.

"That's more like it," Lenny declares. She lowers her hands and leans back. "And while I'm at it, I forgive you for being a total bitch to me when I got back."

Syd drops her own hands. "You're really enjoying this."

"Surprisingly, yeah," Lenny says, and grins. Syd's smile gets a little bigger. It feels good to make her smile, like it felt good to make David smile in her real memories. "Guess that means we're friends now. Who knew it'd be this easy?"

"I wouldn't call any of this easy," Syd says. She gives Lenny a considering look, and then— She reaches across the table, offering her hand to shake. "Friends," she agrees.

Lenny gives Syd's hand a wary look. All that touch therapy stuff yesterday— Syd was the one enjoying herself with that.

"Look, um—" Syd pauses, looking— Actually vulnerable. It's novel as hell. "When this is over—" She falters again, then gets a stubborn look. "Whatever touch I get now, that's it. So let me help you while I still can."

"What, you think everyone's just gonna let you suffer?" Lenny challenges, somehow both touched and annoyed.

"We don't know what's going to happen," Syd admits. "If all of this will be enough, if—" She trails off. She pulls her hand back, pauses, then offers it again. "Friends help each other. So let's help each other."

Lenny knows that touching Syd won't make her blow up. She sure can't get disembodied when she doesn't have a body. But she still hesitates and she feels like shit for it. She pulls up some footage from yesterday, when Syd was helping her with touch.

"Put yourself in charge of being touched," footage Syd tells footage Lenny. She had her hand held out then, too. Lenny skips further back. "Unless you want your fear to control you for the rest of your life, however long that is— You need to start," footage Syd says.

Like accepting help, like foundation work, like facing her past. Lenny couldn't accept palm-to-palm touch from Syd yesterday. But she made a start. She made the choice and put herself in control.

Last night, she recalled a lifetime without control, of being out-of-control the only control she had. But she's done being trapped, being a victim, a puppet, a doll. Fuck all of that.

She braces herself now, and before she can stop herself, she takes Syd's hand. Syd startles, still unused to touch, skittish after this morning's disaster. Lenny's tense, too. But she holds on long enough for them to shake hands like a couple of completely normal, untraumatized human beings.

They pull apart and they're both relieved.

Lenny leans back, recovering, and notices that David's session is done and waiting for her to review it. She closes her eyes for a moment and lives the experience in a flash. It's kinda fun being David's shrink. It feels good, helping David, even if it's not really her doing the helping.

Man, that to-do list thing— Looks like David's taking control, too. And if Divad and Dvd are already copying him, she knows that means they're gonna push her to make one. She might as well get a head start.

She flips back to her last round of foundation work and writes "To-Do", then pauses, wondering what to fill it with.

"What're you adding?" Syd asks, curious.

"David just finished a session," Lenny explains. "Ptonomy wants him to have more control over his therapy, so he started a new list for that."

"Isn't that what the therapy list is for?" Syd asks. She looks at her own foundation work.

Lenny shrugs. "David needs another list for the immediate stuff. Short-term goals."

"And you're making one, too?"

"You should get started on yours," Lenny advises.

Syd huffs but grabs her pen. She leans back and considers her notebook.

Lenny does the same. She looks over her therapy list and decides to move make my foundation and mantra my own and think about my future to the new list. Then she adds strengthen my real memories and talk to David about how we really met, then work on my haphephobia. There's no point in denying she has that now. Then, for the satisfaction of it, she adds make up with Syd and crosses it out.

She's kinda looking forward to showing that to David.

"Here," she says, and shows her notebook to Syd.

Syd reads it, and when she sees the crossed-out line, she smiles and relaxes a little more. "Nice," she says, approving. She writes, then strikes out some lines, and then shows Lenny the results.

Build my new foundation.
Create my mantra.
Find my motivation.
Think about my future.
Face my past.
Work on my haphephobia.
Make up with David.
Make up with Lenny.
Share therapy with Lenny.

"Nice," Lenny approves. She grabs her own notebook back and adds share therapy with Syd. She could cross it out, but it feels like— They're just getting started.

Chapter 120: Day 12: Did you ever thank him for that? (Divad)

Chapter Text

After Divad steps into their body, he keeps their eyes closed for a moment, trying to clear their head. He wants to put everything he has into this session, into his to-do list, but—

"How are you feeling, Divad?" Ptonomy asks, from the other side of the picnic table.

Divad opens their eyes. "Worried," he admits. "About Cary and Kerry. And Oliver." They're his friends. He's never had his own friends to worry about before. Like Dvd, he only shared David's relationships, even when he was in charge. And for most of those, there was nothing he could do but accept them as they came, for good and bad. Mostly bad.

Divad gives an apologetic glance over to his headmates. David is sitting next to Dvd, at David's insistence. Sharing his thoughts with David and Dvd is the right thing to do, Divad knows that. But it's not easy.

'It's okay,' David thinks to him. He gives a crooked smile, encouraging and forgiving.

"I know you want to help them," Ptonomy says. "When we get back to the lab, I'll get you the test results. You're the one who helped Oliver sleep so he could heal enough to get those memories back. You're probably our best bet for helping Cary."

Divad feels a flush of emotions at the easy praise. "Thanks," he says, bouyed. "I want— I need to be there for him.”

'He doesn't care about Kerry?' Dvd thinks, annoyed.

"Of course I care about Kerry," Divad says, turning to him. "I want to be there for her, too. Especially because— They're a system like us." It's not just a guess anymore, they know it for a fact. After all these years, they finally know another system— Without Farouk making them forget.

"I'm sure your whole system will do its best for them," Ptonomy says. "How about you show me your foundation work?"

He hands Divad his physical notebook. Divad holds it, pleased by the sight of 'Divad Haller' written on the front. His notebook is just his, not his system's but his. That feels— Precious.

He carefully copies over his last round of foundation work from his mental notebook. It's starting to feel really good to write it, especially the wish list and the new to-do list. He feels suddenly, stupidly grateful to be here, to have this help, this chance to heal and be happy.

He shows Ptonomy his work.

"I see you've really taken to this," Ptonomy says, pleased.

'Teacher's pet,' Dvd grumbles.

"I want to get better," Divad tells Ptonomy. "I always wanted to, I just— Didn't know how. I wasn't allowed to know how."

"That was a big shock for you yesterday," Ptonomy says. "Realizing how much you'd been made to forget."

Out of the corner of their eye, Divad noticed David straighten with interest. And Dvd frowns. Fuck. Both of them were too busy breaking down yesterday to notice Divad's breakdown.

Divad's tempted to put his shields back up, but— They need to know. "Yeah," he says. "Um." He turns to his headmates. "It looks like— If David ever heard the thoughts of another system, or another mutant— Farouk would make us forget so we wouldn't be able to ask them for help." Farouk always kept them for himself.

'Fucking shit beetle,' Dvd thinks, angrily. 'I hate him so much.'

"We'll stop him," David promises Dvd. 'I guess I was swiss cheese even before college. Maybe less has changed than I thought.'

It surprises Divad that the news is more upsetting to Dvd than David, but then David's used to forgetting things. And Dvd's always taken pride in having forgotten the least of all of them. And maybe he still has, but—

'I miss not thinking about this shit,' Dvd thinks, upset. 'It was so much easier when I was just angry all the time and I didn't have to think about anything.'

"Being angry all the time wasn't good for us," Divad tells him, then turns back to Ptonomy. "'Learn how to manage my anger.' That's on my to-do list."

"Is Dvd angry?" Ptonomy asks.

"He's upset," Divad relays. "He misses not having to think about all the bad things."

"Hey!" Dvd calls.

"This is therapy," Divad says back. "Ptonomy needs to know our thoughts. We don't have the relay so we have to tell him."

Dvd huffs, annoyed.

"I think anger management would be very helpful for your whole system," Ptonomy says.

"Do you have something?" Divad asks, eagerly. "Some kind of— Anger wheel, or—"

Ptonomy smiles. "The emotion journaling will help. Recognizing your anger is an important step. Anger is often how we insulate ourselves from more painful emotions. What do you not want to be angry about?"

"The drugs," Divad admits. "Especially after yesterday. I know it wasn't David's fault. But—" He clenches their hands into fists, relaxes them. "I was so angry for so long."

“What is it about the drugs in particular?” Ptonomy prompts.

Divad sighs, braces himself. Of course he has to talk about it. Therapy is more than just— Lists and worksheets. But this—

"Divad?" Ptonomy prompts.

"It's, um—" Divad tries. "It's a lot."

"I know," Ptonomy says, understanding. "But if you want to stop being angry, we need to work through the feelings that are hiding in that anger. Just like David has to work through his possession trauma so he can share your system's body together."

Divad looks at David, and David gives him such a meaningful look— He genuinely cares about them so much, cares about their system—

Like he used to. They’re getting David back, and Divad doesn’t want to be angry with him anymore. Maybe he can get through this for David. For their system.

“The drugs,” Divad starts. “It was hard enough being— Prisoners in our body. David took the drugs to— Escape his fear, but—“

He stops, swallows. Looks at his notebook again. Ptonomy just waits.

“All I had left was my own thoughts,” Divad admits. “The drugs— Took that from me. And they—“ He stops again. He reminds himself that David already knows. “I can’t— Separate the drugs from Benny. From what he—“

He stops again.

“Okay,” Ptonomy says, gently. “That is a lot.”

Divad can only manage a nod. Their throat is tight.

“All this was another way you lost control,” Ptonomy continues. “Like with the sharing.”

Divad nods again. “I want to be in control of myself,” he says firmly.

“You’re making great progress,” Ptonomy soothes. “Does your anger make you feel like you’re not in control?”

Divad nods again. “It didn’t used to,” he admits. “But now— I don’t know.”

“Anger was your refuge,” Ptonomy says. “Leaving that refuge is hard. It means facing what you’ve been hiding from.”

Divad takes a shaky breath.

“You agreed to help David by showing him your memories of Benny,” Ptonomy says. “But if you’re going to face your memories that way, I think you need to talk about them first."

Divad knows Ptonomy is right. They've had enough disasters already with the white room. But opening himself up to his feelings about those years— That's so much harder than just showing David his memories.

“How about we add this to your to-do list?” Ptonomy offers, when Divad doesn't reply. "Process your relationship with Benny."

"Okay," Divad says, relieved he doesn't have to face it right away. He writes it in and looks at the other items on the list. "I want us to finish our system foundation and mantra. Can we do that now?"

"I was hoping we could get them done this morning," Ptonomy says. "But without the relay—"

"I'll relay for David and Dvd," Divad insists. "And we're sharing our thoughts so we'll all know how we really feel. Please." He gives Ptonomy a hopeful look.

"Do your headmates agree to that?" Ptonomy asks.

David and Dvd are already walking over. Divad smiles at them. "Yes," he tells Ptonomy.

"Great," Ptonomy says, and smiles, too. "Let's switch to your system notebooks."

There's a flutter of paper as all three of them get ready. Sitting between his headmates this way, the three of them ready to work together— It reminds Divad of last night, of fixing their rocket lamp together. He wanted to make that memory for David, but— It's a good memory for him, too.

'And me,' Dvd thinks, firmly.

They all look over what they have so far, the list of ideas and the mantra. We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. Divad believes that now. It's more than just words.

"Let's see if we can turn that list of ideas into your system foundation," Ptonomy says, warmly. "Remember, this is for all of you. Don't be afraid to make it what you need it to be. Let's pick up where we left off. The three of you decided not to keep 'We're brothers.'"

"We're not brothers," Dvd insists. "We're headmates."

"Headmates is definitely better," David agrees.

"We prefer headmates," Divad relays.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "By the way, Dvd, that was great work bringing that to your system."

"Kerry found it," Dvd says, unusually shy about taking credit. Divad relays for him.

"She did," Ptonomy agrees. "She got it from the autobiography you read together. But you allowed yourself to be open to that book and to your friendship with Kerry. And because you did that, you were able to give your system something that's really helping it."

"It is," David tells Dvd. "Thank you, Dvd."

Dvd ducks his head, shy again.

"David thanked Dvd, and uh, Dvd really liked it," Divad relays, which makes Dvd blush.

'Dvd's cute when he's shy,' David thinks, then blushes himself.

'I'm not shy,' Dvd protests, but he's fighting not to smile.

Divad quickly realizes that all of them sharing thoughts means they're going to be stuck in feedback loops of flirting. He's not sure how he feels about that, but at least it's better than feedback loops of torture.

"Divad?" Ptonomy prompts.

"They're, um— Flirting," Divad admits.

"And you're not comfortable with that?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't mind it, it's just—" Divad glances at his headmates. They're watching him now, both of them focused on him. Divad's definitely not used to that.

Before they lost David, the two of them always had each other. And Divad was just— Alone.

"Divad," David says, concerned.

"It was my fault," Divad tells him. He took refuge in his anger, and the more he took his anger out on David, the more he pushed both his headmates away. It should be enough that they're all together again, helping each other heal.

"But it's not?" David asks.

"I can't ask you to— Feel that way about me," Divad says. He doesn't deserve David's forgiveness, much less his love, even though— He's trying to accept his forgiveness.

"But you feel that way about me?" David asks.

"Yeah," Divad admits. He wonders if maybe those feelings are better left behind. But he doesn't know how to do that.

He wishes Ptonomy had heard all that through the relay. But he has to say it.

"It's, um—" Divad starts, trying to find the words. "I love David." He swallows. Saying it so plainly— It makes their chest hurt. "David and Dvd being together again—"

"We're not," David says.

'Don't say that,' Dvd pleads.

"I'm not with anyone," David says, firmly. "After yesterday— If I learned anything it was that I am not ready to be with anyone that way. That's why we both agreed to just acknowledge our feelings, remember?"

Dvd pouts.

"David reminded us that he's not with anyone," Divad relays.

"Let's take this opportunity to talk about what you want your relationships to be," Ptonomy says. "Headmates leaves things open, and that's healthy. But there's a lot of expectations that need to be addressed. Dvd, I'd like you to go first."

"I want David back," Dvd says, and Divad relays. "I know things have to be different, but— I miss being close."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "And how about your relationship with Divad? What would you like that to be?"

That makes Dvd pause. "I dunno. We spent the last ten years shouting at each other." Divad relays that.

"Would you like to be close with Divad?" Ptonomy asks.

Dvd and Divad look at each other.

"Do you?" Divad asks, curious.

"I never thought about it," Dvd protests. "You were a threat to David. That's all you were."

"That's all you let me be," Divad says, feeling— Hurt. It's an old hurt, and he probably wouldn't have even acknowledged if it he was still being angry all the time, or using his powers to numb himself. "We used to be close. We were all— Best friends with each other. We'd do anything for each other."

"Yeah, and then you started caring more about yourself than our system," Dvd says.

"No," Divad says. "I never stopped caring about you and David. The way our system worked hurt me, that's what drove us apart." That and the monster.

'Sharing was the only thing that made life bearable,' Dvd thinks.

"Dvd," David intervenes. "All that sharing— That was Divad. He used his powers to do that for us. Did you ever— Thank him for that?"

Dvd stares at David, genuinely taken aback. Divad's surprised, too. It's like— Thanking their heart for beating.

"You're not an organ," David tells Divad, a little sternly. "You're not a stress response. You're a person and you deserve to be treated like a person." He pauses while Divad relays all that to Ptonomy. "I don't remember it, but— You sacrificed yourself to help us, to make our life bearable. Thank you, Divad. I mean it."

David looks at Dvd, expectant.

'This is weird,' Dvd thinks. 'Thinking about Divad as a person is weird.'

"Well get used to it," David says. "We're all Davids, we're all people, right?"

"Yeah," Dvd admits.

"When you miss sharing, what you're really missing is being close to Divad," David declares. "Because that was all him."

'Weird,' Dvd thinks again. He stares at Divad, somehow— Curious.

Has Dvd ever been curious about him before? Divad can't remember it. They always took each other entirely for granted. But all the times Dvd comforted David, made him feel good— He did that through Divad. He wore Divad the way— Farouk wore Lenny.

"That’s not fair!" Dvd says, upset.

"That's how it feels," Divad defends. "I know you didn't mean to. I wasn't real to you because I wasn't even real to myself. But David's right. Everything you miss about our old system— That was me. You miss me."

'I miss Divad?' Dvd asks himself. He looks shaken.

Divad catches Ptonomy up, tells him how all this has affected Dvd.

"And how do you feel about it?" Ptonomy asks Divad. "What do you want your relationships with David and Dvd to be?"

"I want us to be happy," Divad says, certain of that much.

"That's a good start," Ptonomy allows. "But let's dig a little deeper. Don't worry about what's logical, rational. Don't limit yourself to what you think you're allowed to have. In your heart, what do you want?"

Divad has to think about that. "Acknowledging I'm a person, it's— It changes things," he admits. "I saw myself as— On the outside. But David's right. All the sharing— That was me. Even though emotionally I was alone— Physically— All three of us were together."

Ptonomy nods. "Your system shared a lot."

Divad thinks back, remembering— Feeling David and Dvd loving each other. Wanting so much to be a part of that, but feeling like— He couldn't be. He was too angry, too frustrated, too afraid. Someone had to stay focused on keeping them safe, on making the right choices, on stopping the monster. But all that time— He was split in two: half-loved, half-unlovable.

It's as surreal as— Experiencing David and Benny's love, while being unseen, unheard, a passive prisoner.

'So what, I'm Benny now?' Dvd thinks. He seems genuinely upset.

"Of course not," Divad says, trying to take it back. This is why sharing thoughts is dangerous. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

"Sure you didn't," Dvd mutters. "Yeah, the sharing was you. But you're the one who made David want to kill himself and I’ll never forgive you for that!"

It's a low blow and it hits hard.

"Divad?" Ptonomy prompts, concerned.

"Take that back," David tells Dvd.

"No," Dvd says, defiant.

"If you want us to have any kind of relationship, much less a good one, you’ll take that back right now," David says, brooking absolutely no argument. "I refuse to let you use me to hurt our system."

"It's the truth!" Dvd protests.

"You’re using me to take your anger out on Divad," David says. "That's wrong and I won't let you do it."

Dvd stares at David, speechless. Then he gets mad. "You want to be with him? Fine. I hope you're both happy." He gets up and marches back to the bench, sits down with a huff, crosses his arms and looks away.

"Shit," Divad mutters. "Dvd got mad at David and left." He points his thumb at the bench, then catches Ptonomy up on the rest.

"Let's give him some time to cool off," Ptonomy says. "This is a lot for both of you."

Divad gives a weak nod.

"David, you did a fantastic job standing up for yourself and Divad," Ptonomy praises. "I'm sure that wasn't easy."

"I just want us to stop hurting each other," David says, and Divad relays.

"That's what we all want," Ptonomy says. "Saying no is important for healthy relationships."

"Well I've been practicing my NOs," David admits, and Divad relays. David takes a deep breath, lets it out, and seems calmer for it. Divad copies him, but it's mostly seeing David calm that helps.

Divad can hardly believe all of that just happened. Everything is so different now. Not just David, but— Everything. The new dynamic they’re developing, their whole understanding of what they are, what they used to be— And it's better this way, obviously it is, but— It's strange and confusing and scary.

'No shit,' Dvd thinks, and Divad realizes— He didn't put back up his shield. Dvd might be upset, but— He hasn't given up.

'Like I've ever given up,' Dvd thinks, dismissive. He doesn't budge from the bench, though.

Divad turns back to Ptonomy. "I'm sorry, I thought this would go better."

"You did great," Ptonomy says. "These questions of— Identity and relationships— They're very challenging. It's going to take time to work through them."

Divad looks down at his system notebook. "I wanted us to finish our foundation and mantra."

"We will," Ptonomy assures him. "But the process is just as valuable. David, how are you feeling? Are you ready to work on your relationship with Syd?"

"Yes," David says, confidently. "Let's do this."

Chapter 121: Day 12: Lost her in the desert. (David)

Chapter Text

When David finishes settling back into their body, Ptonomy gives him some blank printer paper and another pen.

"I assumed you'd want to keep this separate," Ptonomy explains.

Like with his possession trauma. David pauses, considering. It doesn't feel as-- Absolutely necessary to quarantine his Syd trauma that way, and yet-- His personal notebook is for his new self. It's to help him be the person he wants to be. Even though he definitely wants Syd to be a part of his life-- Being dependent on her wasn't a good idea the first time around. He doesn't want to have to learn that lesson again.

"Yes," David decides. "Thank you." Syd, he writes at the top of the first sheet, and underlines it.

"Before we dig in, I'd like to talk about what you want to achieve," Ptonomy says. "What's your to-do list for Syd? What's a successful outcome?"

David considers the questions. They're a lot to think about, and it bothers him that he doesn’t immediately have answers. But then he's had a few things on his mind.

"I guess-- I don't want to be upset with her anymore," he tries.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "And what will help you do that?"

The obvious answer is to process what happened enough to forgive her. But that doesn't feel right. Or-- It's not enough.

"I love her," David says, looking at the page. "But she hurt me. Some of the things she did--" There's a slow swell of emotion in his chest. He thinks of Dvd refusing to let Syd have the relay. David didn't want to even acknowledge all the pain he's still feeling, but Dvd knew.

'You bet I did,' Dvd thinks.

"Shh," Divad hushes. They're sitting together on a bench, though a distance apart.

Dvd rolls his eyes but goes quiet.

"I need to understand what happened," David continues. "Everything went so wrong so fast, and-- I was confused and scared and-- I needed her. But she--" He cuts off, his throat tight.

"Okay," Ptonomy soothes. "How about we start off the same way we did with your possession trauma? Let's do some untangling."

"Untangling sounds good," David says, and musters the tiniest smile.

"I think there's three parts to all of this," Ptonomy says. "There's things Syd did under Farouk's control, like attacking you in the desert. There's things Future Syd did, like the orb and sending you to Farouk. And then there's what was just between you and present-day Syd. That sound right?"

"Yeah," David says, taking that in. It's almost like-- There's three Syds. Like there's three Davids. Not all at once, obviously. Well, sort of.

"Something wrong?" Ptonomy asks.

David hesitates, not sure how to answer that. "Do you think-- They're all the same Syd?"

"It's been a struggle for you, differentiating her," Ptonomy observes.

"But they're all the same person," David says. "Or they were, before-- If the timeline's changed, then-- Future Syd's-- Dead?" He frowns. He remembers Farouk warning him away from changing the timeline. Not that Farouk ever cared about Syd, except to use her against him. And yet-- "Is she dead?"

"I don't know if that's a question we can answer," Ptonomy says. "I suppose-- When you have your powers back, we could try to contact her the way you did before. But that still might not tell us anything.” He pauses. “Does it help you to think of them as separate people?”

David has to think about that, too. His hope of getting through this quickly is fading fast. “Um. I don’t know.” He remembers trying to explain Syd and Future Syd to the monk on the roof, and all he felt was more confused. And then the monk—

He makes three columns on his paper. Syd, Future Syd, and Farouk Syd. Under Farouk Syd he writes: told me I was a monster and said I liked killing people and shot a gun at my head.

It’s a lot. It’s already a lot. But he keeps going.

Under Future Syd, he writes: kidnapped me, stole a year of my life, made me help Farouk, lied to me, manipulated me, let Amy die

His eyes suddenly well with tears. He wipes them away but there’s more.

Amy. Her death still hurts so much, even though he has her back.

“I, um— I guess I don’t need to now, but— I never had a chance to— Grieve,” David admits. He was too furiously angry to grieve, then. All he wanted was revenge. For all the good it did him.

“Her disembodiment was deeply traumatic,” Ptonomy says. “For you, for her. Have you talked to Amy about it at all?”

David shakes his head. “I was just— So relieved she was alive— And everything else—“ He wipes his eyes again, takes a shaky breath. “Guess I should put it on my to-do list?”

“I think that’s a very good idea,” Ptonomy agrees.

David opens his notebook and adds it. Then he adds what Divad has in his, about finishing their system foundation and mantra. It helps.

He closes the notebook, wipes his eyes. This time they stay dry.

He looks at the empty column for Syd. Somehow that’s the hardest one. Maybe because— What went wrong was his fault as much as hers.

‘Oh please,’ Dvd mutters. Divad hushes him again, but that only riles him. “Don’t you dare blame yourself for what she did to us.”

David feels at a loss, so he relays what Dvd said to Ptonomy.

“What do you feel was your fault?” Ptonomy asks.

“Everything,” David admits. “I know— That’s not the truth. But it feels—“

“If you’d just been good enough, said the right things, never made a mistake?” Ptonomy offers. “A lot of abuse survivors feel that way.”

“She didn’t—“ David starts, automatically, and then stops himself.

“We often blame ourselves for what other people choose to do to us,” Ptonomy says. “That gives us the illusion of control. It’s frightening to admit that we couldn’t stop someone from hurting us. Especially when it’s someone we love and trust.”

David nods, knowing all of that painfully well.

“Any relationship takes two people,” Ptonomy says. “Both you and Syd have work to do. But abusive relationships usually involve an imbalance of power. And in your relationship with Syd, who had more power? More control? Who was in charge?”

“Syd,” David admits. Syd told him to help the monster that tortured him his entire life, and he went right ahead and did it. It hardly matters that Syd was Future Syd. All the Syds are Syd.

At least he has the answer to that question now. But he leaves the columns as they are.

Blamed me for being taken, David writes. Touched me and didn’t tell me. Trapped me in her head. Didn’t care about Amy. He pauses. Didn’t trust me and thought I was a liar. Believed Farouk.

And then he makes one more column and puts his own name at the top. Kept secrets. Didn’t understand. Wasn’t good enough. Wanted things I couldn’t have. Didn’t do what she said. Left without her. Lost her in the desert. Made her forget. Tried to make her love me again. Raped her. Didn’t kill myself. Didn’t kill Farouk. Didn’t kill myself.

He drops the pen and pushes the paper away. He feels shaky, sick. He feels like he should feel worse. He feels like—

Someone takes his hand. It’s Ptonomy. David grips back, holds on tight.

‘I told them,’ Dvd thinks, worried and annoyed. ‘If she makes him suicidal again—‘

‘It’s a shame attack, let him work through it,’ Divad thinks back.

A shame attack. Right. God, it’s a bad one. He wants to tell Ptonomy but he can’t even speak. Ptonomy probably figured it out anyway, it’s not like— His breakdown isn’t completely obvious.

"I'm here," Ptonomy soothes. He holds David's hand with both of his. His touch is an anchor, and David grabs onto Ptonomy's hands with his other hand. His whole body is burning with shame, it's hard to even breathe.

There's nothing he can do but ride it out.

'I can't--' Dvd thinks, distraught.

'We have to,' Divad thinks back.

The shame was like a sudden wave, knocking David off his feet and dragging him along. But as quickly as it came, as brutal as it is, it doesn't take long to crest and fade. He takes fast, deep breaths and slumps in relief. His death-grip on Ptonomy eases.

"That looked like a bad one," Ptonomy says, gently.

David nods. As the shame eases, another wave sweeps in, this time-- Grief, sadness, regret. He starts crying, tears rushing out as fast as they can. He lets go of Ptonomy to wipe at them.

"Here," Ptonomy says, offering him the tissue box. David takes a handful and buries his face against them. His breaths pull the tissues against his mouth, push them away.

He hears the slide of paper against the table. Ptonomy must be reading what he wrote.

"I'm sorry," David says, when he’s finally able to speak.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," Ptonomy says, firmly. "Not for what you just did."

David lifts his head. The tissues are soaked. He swallows, blinks, and more tears run down his face, but he leaves them.

Ptonomy slides the paper back to him. David's afraid to look at it, but he does. Another wave of shame burns through him, smaller this time. He feels like such an absolute failure. He crumples up the tissues, grips them tightly.

His mantra. He needs his mantra. All of that feels so far away, but--

He didn't deserve what happened to him. He fucked up, he made awful mistakes, but he didn't-- He doesn't deserve to die. He's not going to kill himself. He forgave himself for hurting Syd, Syd forgave him, he learned from his mistakes and he's not going to let them keep him from healing.

The second wave of shame breaks. There's another wave of tears, this time-- Of relief. He puts his head down on his arms and tries to just-- Exist. God, he's absolutely exhausted.

'He's okay,' Divad thinks, relieved.

'You call that okay?' Dvd thinks, upset.

'He's so strong,' Divad thinks, proudly. 'We need to be as strong as him.'

'Speak for yourself,' Dvd thinks. 'I'm already strong.'

'Are you?' Divad thinks.

If Dvd replies, it's not with his thoughts.

When he feels able to, David sits back up. He takes a few more tissues and blows his nose, wipes his face, tries to gather himself.

"How are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks.

"Awful," David admits.

"Are you up to a little more work?"

"Not really, but-- Okay," David says.

Ptonomy gives him a small smile. "You just faced a lot of painful memories. I could see how important it was for you to get all of this down."

David nods.

"I'd like to talk about them," Ptonomy says. "We don't have to do any processing right now. We'll start that next time."

David huffs. "I, uh-- Was hoping we wouldn't need a next time for this."

Ptonomy just gives him a look.

David slides the paper closer. It still hurts to look at it, but the sting is-- Tolerable.

"You gave yourself a pretty long list," Ptonomy says. "How much of that was the shame attack, and how much is how you really feel?"

As ever, Ptonomy doesn't ask the small questions. "Um." David rubs at his face, tries to get his brain working again. "I'm not sure."

"Let's see if we can find one thing that you can cross out," Ptonomy says. "I'll even count the duplicate."

David looks over the list again. The second 'didn’t kill myself' was written so deep the pen almost carved through the page. But he can't bring himself to cross that out.

Maybe there's something-- Smaller. Something--

"I guess, um-- 'Lost her in the desert,'" David offers.

"Why that one?"

"I feel like it was my fault, but-- I was asleep. Syd could have-- Woken me up, or-- Just waited. She-- Must have wanted to-- Go without me."

"It was her choice to leave," Ptonomy agrees. "I'm sure she didn't plan on being pulled underground, but she knew the desert was dangerous, that Farouk was out there, and she still decided to face it on her own."

"She didn't trust me to save the world," David admits. He heard her think it. "She thought-- I cared more about revenge than-- I mean-- She wasn't wrong, but-- Farouk saving the world?" He gives a kind of laugh, bewildered and pained. He hugs himself, looks away. "She wanted to save him. She chose Farouk over me," he says, the words quiet but-- Thick with pain.

And she did. Syd did end up saving Farouk. He can't stop seeing-- The gun in her hand, the look on her face--

He shakes his head.

"David?" Ptonomy asks.

"I can't," David says, tightly. "This is all--"

"We're almost done for now," Ptonomy soothes. "Take a moment. Everything's okay."

David lets out a shaky breath.

"You are not responsible for Syd's choices," Ptonomy says, gentle but firm. "Her getting lost in the desert was not your fault."

"Maybe it was," David protests. "If I hadn't-- Left without her, or-- If I'd-- If I hadn't agreed to help Farouk-- If I'd just-- Woken up first--"

Ptonomy reaches across the table. He offers his hand. David takes it.

"This is not something you have to carry," Ptonomy tells him. "It was Syd's choice to leave you in the tent. It was Farouk's choice to take her. It's not your fault that she was taken any more than-- It was your fault for being taken by the orb. Think about how angry it makes you that Syd blamed you for being taken."

That does make him angry. "I was taken," he insists.

"And so was she," Ptonomy says. "You can be angry with her and at Farouk. You can be angry at the universe. But recognize that this one small thing is not your fault. It was just-- Something that happened."

It should be his fault. It should be. But he can't force himself to take the blame. Somehow-- He knows Ptonomy is right. He was asleep in the tent when it happened. Syd left him there. She didn't want his help. She didn't trust him, she didn't-- And Farouk--

All that talk about-- Saving love, and-- In the end she just walked away.

He lets go of Ptonomy's hand. He takes the pen and crosses out 'Lost her in the desert.' He's not sure it makes him feel any better. Somehow-- "The truth is worse," he admits.

"It's harder," Ptonomy allows. "Blaming yourself for everything that went wrong-- You can wallow in guilt all day without needing to hold anyone’s hand."

David recognizes his own words, his own thoughts. "You said we'd have to talk about that," he remembers.

"That guilt, that anger at yourself," Ptonomy says. "You have plenty of things to be legitimately angry about. Some of it was even your fault. But there's a lot that you've chosen to carry because the truth was too much. It's a kind of fantasy, an illusion of control. But all it does is make you vulnerable to people who’ll take advantage of you."

"Farouk," David says.

"And Benny. I'm sure there've been others, in smaller ways. There's plenty of people out there looking for someone to exploit. Their choices are not your fault. But if you don't want to be vulnerable to them, you have to step out of the fantasy."

David looks at the lists again. At the end of the Syd list, he adds 'left me behind to save Farouk.' It makes him angry to write it, to acknowledge it. It makes him angry at Syd, and-- He doesn't want to be.

"I don't want to be angry with her," he admits.

"I know," Ptonomy says. "But if you want to truly be happy with her again, you have to be honest with yourself and with her. You have to genuinely address what went wrong. If you do that, you'll be able to forgive her and yourself. And then you'll feel-- The way you felt with Amy."

David remembers that moment. The peace he felt with her-- He wants that with his system. He wants that with Syd. "I want that," he says, certain.

"Then write it down," Ptonomy says.

David makes another list. Syd therapy goals. And below that he writes: Address what went wrong. Forgive Syd. Forgive myself.

He looks over the page again, trying to see it-- Without the fantasy. And then he crosses out:

Didn’t understand.
Wasn’t good enough.
Wanted things I couldn’t have.
Didn’t do what she said.

"Those were the shame attack," he tells Ptonomy.

"That's very good work, David," Ptonomy praises. "How about that duplicate?"

David looks at it. He tries, but-- He shakes his head. "Sorry."

"That's okay," Ptonomy says. "This was a lot of work. Let's wrap up. Divad, Dvd, please come back to the table. When you’ve all finished a round of foundation work, we’ll head downstairs. Syd and Lenny are almost back. I heard they got something for all three of you."

“For us?” Dvd says, perking up.

"Oh?" David feels wary about seeing Syd right now, but-- He wants to see Lenny. He misses his cruise director. He wants to see Amy, to see how Oliver and Kerry and Cary are doing.

‘Me too,’ Divad thinks.

"I won’t spoil the surprise. Do you want me to hold onto that?" Ptonomy asks, pointing at the paper. He's been holding onto David's possession trauma work.

"Is it okay if-- I keep it?" David asks. He needs a break, but-- He wants to think about it before the next round.

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "It's your work. You can do whatever you want with it."

Divad and Dvd sit down to either side of David and open their personal notebooks.

"You're doing amazing, David," Divad says. "I'm really proud of you."

"Um, thanks," David says, uncertain, but-- Pleased.

Dvd doesn't say anything, he just starts writing. David wonders if he should ask what’s wrong, but-- If Dvd isn't even ready to think whatever's bothering him, they should probably give him space. When he's ready to open up to himself-- Then he'll open up to them.

David looks at the Syd paper again, then tucks it into the back of his notebook.

Chapter 122: Day 12: System waffles. (David)

Chapter Text

When they get back to the lab, it's dark except for the bright pool of Cary's work area, and the large window behind the sofa. Kerry and Amy are sitting in the work area, working together on something, and they look up.

"Oliver's resting," Amy warns, and points at the darkened sleeping area. Oliver's in his bed, though David's not sure if he's actually asleep. He's not wearing the sleep inducer, at least.

"How is he?" Divad asks, and David relays for him.

"Not great," Amy admits. "All those memories are— Very painful. We tried to help, but— He needs time to— Let things settle."

David cranes his head towards Oliver. It's strange to think of him as— Genuinely upset. But with his detachment fading—

"Ask about Kerry and Cary," Dvd says.

Right. "Um, Kerry, how are you and Cary—"

"We're fine," Kerry says, cutting him off.

"Kerry," Amy says, concerned.

"Okay, we're not fine," Kerry admits. "Cary's really upset and he tried to be in charge of our body but he couldn't. He said the only thing that makes him feel better is fixing things so— We're fixing things."

That’s when David realizes what they’re fixing is the rocket lamp. He walks up to the pieces. The rocket has been stripped and sanded smooth, and the shade is a flat, paintless piece of metal. The motor mechanism is in front of Kerry, and it looks like she’s almost done with it.

“It’s in front of Cary, too,” Divad reminds him. “We need a name for when they’re together. Ask Kerry what we should call them.”

Kerry doesn’t seem in the mood to be asked anything, but it seems important enough to try anyway. “Um, Kerry— What should we call your system when it’s together?”

Kerry goes quiet, presumably listening to Cary.

“Cary doesn’t want a special name,” Kerry relays. “But that’s cause he’s mad we’re a system and he doesn’t want to be one because he’s being a jerk.”

“Kerry,” Amy chides.

“I’m proud that we’re a system just like I’m proud that we’re mutants,” Kerry continues. “There’s nothing wrong with it for the Davids so there’s nothing wrong with it for us.” She listens again. “Well other people are stupid. That’s their problem, not ours.” She turns to David again. “I was already trying to decide what our system name should be before—“ She falters, then rallies. “I think we should be the Karies. Kay ay are eye ee ess.”

“Tell them I think that’s a great name,” Divad says.

“And me!” Dvd insists.

“Our system really likes that name,” David relays, and offers the Karies a smile.

That seems to help, or at least it helps Kerry. David’s not sure what will help Cary.

“I can help him,” Divad insists. “David, I need our body so I can review the test results.”

“Right,” David says, and heads for a chair.

“David?” Ptonomy asks.

“Divad needs our body to help Cary,” David tells him.

“Just hold on,” Ptonomy says. “Amy?”

Amy stands up and grabs a stack of printouts. She brings them to the table and starts laying them out. “This way you can see everything.”

Divad looks over the printouts. “This is perfect, thank you. Never mind, David.”

“I also have these for everyone,” Amy says, grabbing more printouts. “Our emotion journal worksheets and the emotion wheel.” She puts those on the coffee table.”

“Davids, add them to your mental notebooks,” Ptonomy says. “Dvd, we’ll all do this together later, but I’d like you to take some time to work on your own.”

Dvd gives an annoyed sound, but sits down on the sofa and gets out his notebook.

“I guess you have something for me, too?” David asks, thinking of the Devil with the Yellow Eyes.

“We do, but it’ll have to wait,” Ptonomy says.

The lab door opens and Lenny and Syd walk in. Ah. No wonder Ptonomy wanted him to stay embodied.

“The gang’s all here,” Lenny declares. She lifts her takeout bag. “I come bearing waffles.”

Divad and Dvd both perk up. David hesitates, but when Lenny opens the styrofoam container—

“That smells amazing,” David admits, drawn to the steaming waffles. It’s a triple stack.

“Waffles first, then work,” Dvd insists, leaving the sofa to join him. Divad hesitates but does the same.

“We’ll take turns so we can all eat it,” Dvd says. “David, sit down.”

David doesn’t want to make a mess over Divad’s work, so he takes the waffles to the sitting area. There’s still room on the coffee table and swapping will be easier on the sofa.

When he’s settled, he grabs the plastic fork and knife and cuts up the waffles. He slathers them in maple syrup. And then—

“Dvd, you can go first,” David says. He leans back and steps out.

Dvd steps in and eagerly digs in. He moans in delight as he savors the syrupy waffles.

‘What’s that about?’ Divad wonders.

“Nothing,” David lies, then realizes the futility of lying. “I don’t know. I just—“ He looks away and sees Syd. She’s hanging back, watching Dvd eat.

David thinks of the paper in his notebook. He thinks about— Sitting at the table, Syd’s hand in his hair, and feeling like— He didn’t deserve to ever eat waffles again.

“I am not letting her take waffles away from us,” Dvd says, firmly. He takes one more bite and sits back. He steps out. “Divad’s turn. Then you’re next,” he tells David. It’s not a request.

Divad eats slower, savoring each bite. “This is delicious, Lenny, thank you.”

“Anytime,” Lenny says. She takes the loveseat next to them, in her usual casual slump. “Mind if I watch you eat?”

“S’fine,” Divad says, around a mouthful of waffle. "How's the outside world?"

"Nice," Lenny sighs, like she means it. "When all this is over, I'm taking you out of this place and we're gonna eat everything. Like, everything."

Divad swallows, chuckles. "I'll just be happy to be outside. I want to just— stretch our legs. Wander."

"Nowhere to be but where we are," Lenny says, longingly.

"Yeah," Divad sighs. 'That sounds really good.'

And then all too soon it's David's turn. He never imagined he'd ever have to be forced to eat waffles.

"He doesn't have to if he doesn't want to," Divad tells Dvd. "We don't all have to want exactly the same things all the time, remember?"

"This isn't about that," Dvd insists. "He wants the waffles. He's just— Punishing himself over Syd."

David has to admit he does want the waffles.

"Eat, before they get cold," Dvd tells him.

"He just did all that Syd work," Divad replies. "David, if you're not ready, it's okay."

David wishes he was ready. "I'm sorry," he tells Lenny. "I, um—" He glances at Syd, looks back down at the waffles.

Thankfully, even without the relay or mutant powers, Lenny can just about read his mind. "Hey Ames," she says, turning. "Can you take Syd for a walk?"

"Actually, this is a good time for our session," Ptonomy says. "How about we take the garden?"

"Sure," Syd says. She's locked down again, and David feels like it's his fault. He's definitely not going to be able to eat the waffles now. When Syd and Ptonomy are gone, he slumps back.

"If you're not gonna eat them, give them to the Karies," Dvd says.

"Hey Karies, want some waffles?" David calls.

Kerry pauses, listening to Cary again. "Well, I want them," Kerry says, and she comes over. She grabs the takeout container and sits in the beanbag chair opposite David. She peers at the waffles, curious. "Are they hard?" she asks.

Lenny looks. "Should be pretty soggy by now."

"Good," Kerry says, pleased. She takes a cautious bite and is obviously delighted. "System waffles," she declares, and digs in.

Amy comes over. "Hey," she says. "David, can I sit next to you?"

"I've got work to do," Divad says, and heads back to the table. He gives Dvd a prod as he goes.

Dvd rolls his eyes, but he grabs his notebook and takes the other beanbag chair. He creates mental copies of the worksheet and emotion wheel and settles in.

David pats the space beside him. "All clear."

As soon as Amy's seated, she opens her arms for a hug, and David gratefully accepts.

"Rough morning," Amy says, and rubs his back.

David gives a meaningful sigh and just soaks up her embrace. All his mornings are rough mornings.

"I missed you," Amy says. "It's so quiet without the relay."

"It's pretty noisy in here," David jokes. Divad and Dvd are both focused on their work, thinking about— Neurological scans and all the different emotions. It feels a little like having his outside powers back, the inescapable noise of other people's thoughts. Didn't Oliver call it— A resounding burble? He focuses on Amy, letting his headmates' thoughts fade into the background.

"How's um— Cary's body?" he asks.

"Stable," Amy says. "It's hard to say— How much it was damaged. Hopefully Divad can help with that, too."

"Divad's pretty smart," David admits. Divad's— Kind of amazingly smart.

Across the room, Divad smiles to himself but keeps working.

David remembers being Divad-smart in his fake duplicate memories, but— None of that was him. Sometimes it's hard to believe they even share the same brain.

Dvd frowns, annoyed. 'Envy,' he thinks, and writes it down.

"A lot of people are working hard to help Cary," Amy says.

"Um, how are you doing?" David asks. He pulls back to look at her. "I, uh— I guess you saw my sessions?"

"I did," Amy says. "Ptonomy's right. It's been— Easier to focus on helping you and everyone else than— Face what happened to me."

"We don't have to talk about it now," David says, not wanting to push her into it.

"Would it be too much for you?" Amy asks.

David considers the question. There's really only one way he can answer it. "I want to be there for you as much as you've been there for me."

Somehow that's— Not the right thing to say. Amy knots her hands together.

"I still feel— Terrible about Clockworks," Amy admits.

"Amy," David starts.

"Let me," Amy tells him. "I keep thinking about-- How every time I visited, you would ask if you could go home. How you were telling me you weren't getting the help you needed and-- I just--" She takes David's hands, holds them. "I know that— As long as Farouk was inside you, there was really nothing I could have done. But you trusted me so much, and— I failed you. I failed my Davey."

"No," David protests, even though-- He knows she's right.

Amy gives him a sad smile. "I've asked Clark to start the paperwork to revoke my power of attorney."

David stares, taken aback.

"You and your headmates— You deserve to have full control over your own life," Amy insists. "I want you to have your own bank account, too."

"I don't need—" David starts.

"You do," Amy insists. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere. I want to be around to see my baby brothers finally thriving. But all of this is about— Helping your system be in control of itself. And me having that much control over it— That's in the way."

David doesn't know what to do with that. He knows it makes sense, but— It still feels like a loss. Maybe even— Like being abandoned all over again.

"Can it wait?" David asks. "Until-- You're okay and--"

"Of course," Amy soothes. "C'mere."

She pulls him back into a hug. He holds her tight and struggles with-- A sudden rush of grief. Like before, all he can do is ride it out. Divad and Dvd's thoughts go quiet as they watch, concerned but holding back.

David didn't think he'd have to face his grief over Amy so soon, but it's taken hold of him. He remembers Lenny holding him as he wept and raged in the interrogation room. It must have been-- Some remnant of Amy that made her try to comfort him that way.

He can't lose her again. What will he do if he loses her again?

'Grief,' Dvd thinks, and writes on his worksheet. He sniffs and wipes his eyes.

"Sorry," David says, trying to pull himself back together. He's upsetting Amy, upsetting Dvd, he shouldn't-- She’s trying to help them and he fell apart on her.

When he pulls back, he sees-- Amy's crying, too, her face crumpled with grief. She looks-- Afraid.

"Amy," David says, reaching to comfort her.

"I was so scared," Amy says, with hitching breaths. "When he came-- I felt this-- Awful dread, and-- And Ben--" She sobs, and David pulls her close, holds her. "Ben was just-- Gone. He was right there and then he was gone. I couldn't even--" Her breath hitches.

David saw, in the memories Farouk left for him-- The beer bottle by the open door, the black dust that used to be Ben. Amy's screams.

There's nothing he can say. There's no words that can-- Make their shared grief and pain-- Tolerable. But holding each other-- Crying together--

"Hey kid, c'mon," Lenny says, quietly, and takes Kerry back to the work area.

Gradually the worst of it passes, but David and Amy still hold tight to each other. They breathe together. She never actually shed any tears, she can't, but-- David thinks he has enough for both of them.

"I'm so sorry," David says, when he can speak again. "For you and Ben and--"

"It wasn't your fault," Amy says.

"I'm still sorry," David says. "If I'd--" He gives a ragged sigh. He has so many regrets about what happened after he came back. If he hadn't been so caught up in Farouk and Future Syd and the monk-- If he'd just asked where Amy was--

He just-- Wanted to wait until things were calmer. He didn't want to pull her back into the chaos his life had become. He didn't want her to get hurt.

"I'm sorry," he says again.

Amy just hushes him.

Chapter 123: Day 12: Helping you is part of my session. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Make up with David.

Syd stares at the line in her to-do list and wonders if she's ever going to be able to cross it off. It's difficult to make up with him when he can barely stand to look at her half the time. Amy told her to accept David's pain as part of his love, but-- The problem isn't what Syd will accept.

"I'm sorry we couldn't get to this sooner," Ptonomy says. "Things have been--"

"Yeah," Syd agrees. Things have definitely been. She pushes her notebook over so Ptonomy can see her foundation work.

"I see you got a head start on the new list," Ptonomy says. "Good work."

"Thanks," Syd says, quietly.

"Relay's still down, so how about you tell me what's on your mind?" Ptonomy says.

Syd's not sure where to start, so she deflects. "How are you doing with all this?"

Ptonomy pauses. "I honestly haven't asked myself that," he admits.

"You're a patient, too," Syd reminds him, wryly.

"I guess I try not to think about that," Ptonomy says. "I just want to do as much as I can before-- I can't anymore."

Syd nods.

"Even if you're only asking to avoid answering yourself, thank you," Ptonomy says.

"Maybe it's both," Syd says. "I'm-- Trying to be more open, more-- Engaged with other people."

"I saw," Ptonomy says. "You're doing great with Lenny."

"Better ways to be, right?" Syd says. "I notice you didn't answer the question either."

Ptonomy cracks a smile. "You got me. Okay. I'm-- Tired, honestly. There are-- More moments when it's hard to stay focused."

"I'm sorry," Syd says, because what else is there to say? "I asked Clark about-- Maybe it's time you got a real body."

"That's not an option."

"We're doing all this work to save Oliver and Cary," Syd points out. "We can't lose you."

"You already did," Ptonomy says, and then seems to regret it. "I'm sorry, that was— I didn’t mean that.”

“You meant it,” Syd says. With his android body, it's easy to forget that Ptonomy died, or-- Became violently disembodied. She wonders how much Ptonomy has been able to open up about that to Amy and Lenny and his family. Probably not enough. “So let’s talk about it.”

“Trying to play therapist again?” Ptonomy says, pushing back.

“I’m trying to be your friend,” Syd says, firmly. “But if you’re that eager to sacrifice yourself, then it sounds like you need therapy just as much as the rest of us.”

That seems to amuse Ptonomy as much as it annoys him.

“Look, um— I don’t know what you think will happen that means you have to sacrifice yourself,” Syd tries. “But the only one of us who can actually see the future is David, and even he couldn’t get it right.”

“Your point?” Ptonomy asks.

“We’re all modeling for each other, right?” Syd says. “So if you start making yourself— An acceptable loss— What will that do to us?”

Ptonomy crosses his arms, but it looks more protective than defiant. “I have to get us through this,” he tells her, meaning it.

"Hey, we're all in this together," Syd reminds him. "This isn't all on you."

"No, it's all on David," Ptonomy says. "And his recovery is my job." He pauses again. "I don't want my death to be-- I'm fine with dying. I just want it to count."

"Still the soldier?" Syd asks.

"Always," Ptonomy says. "Army brat, remember?"

"Definitely a brat," Syd agrees. "So tell me how it felt to die."

Ptonomy goes still.

"You must have enjoyed it if you're so eager to do it again," Syd says, trying to provoke him.

It works. Ptonomy gives her a furious glare.

"You're wrong," Syd tells him. "It's not all on David and it's not all on you. So get over yourself and start opening up before you self-destruct and get in the way of everything you're obviously driving yourself into the ground to get. Or did you not factor that into your statistical models?"

Ptonomy’s silent for a long beat, and then— He sighs. He leans forward on his elbows and lets his exhaustion show.

"I'm sorry," Syd says.

"No, you're right," Ptonomy says.

"I know," Syd says. "I mean-- I'm sorry I let you die. Me in the future. I don't-- Know why she did all the things she did. But I could have saved you and I didn't. So I'm sorry."

Ptonomy is obviously affected. He's silent for a long beat, and then: "I looked back at my own surveillance footage, just like you. There was black goo coming out of my ears, and no one--" He cuts himself off.

"We should have caught it," Syd says.

"We should have," Ptonomy agrees. "We knew we were under attack, but we failed Melanie, we failed Cary and Kerry, we failed me. We failed the soldiers that Farouk turned to dust. We failed Amy and Ben. Hell, we failed you and David. I refuse to let us fail again."

"And thinking that way is your refuge," Syd decides. "What's your foundation, Ptonomy?"

"Guess I should know that?" Ptonomy says, wryly.

Syd considers her conversation with Lenny at the cafe. "You said-- We'd know David would be okay when he starts to help himself. But he's already helping all of us, showing us how to do the work even when it feels impossible. All of this foundation work-- We have that because of him. He's not just a patient. He's a helper, too. So let him help."

"David's got enough on his plate," Ptonomy says.

"It doesn't have to be him," Syd says, thinking of how Divad and Dvd pushed Lenny to do the work, and Lenny pushed Syd. "You said we were friends, and friends look out for each other. You told me there’s a better way to be than what you’ve always been. Maybe you need to find that out for yourself.”

Ptonomy sighs, and his posture eases. “You know, this is your session, not mine.”

“Helping you is part of my session,” Syd returns. “That’s what we’re doing, right? Building healthy relationships? With ourselves and with each other?”

"All right, all right," Ptonomy relents. "Gimme a piece of paper."

Syd rips a blank sheet from the back of her notebook and hands it over, along with her pen.

“I guess I must be doing something right," Ptonomy mutters. "But don't think you're getting out of anything. We're not leaving this garden until you talk."

Syd raises her hands in surrender. "So talk."

Ptonomy gives her a mild glare, then stares down at the blank paper.

"Start with your to-do list," Syd suggests. She turns her notebook so Ptonomy can see it again.

Ptonomy gives her an annoyed, appreciative look, and writes. "Know my foundation," he reads aloud. "Talk about my death."

"Good start," Syd says, and is amused by Ptonomy's glare. "Out of practice, huh?"

"It's been a while," Ptonomy admits. "Helping others is a great way to stay busy. Avoid our own problems."

Syd feels like that was meant for her. "It is," she admits. "You've been doing a lot of helping, so you must be avoiding a lot."

Ptonomy shakes his head, amused.

"How about 'I'm a soldier'?" Syd suggests. "For your foundation. That seems pretty important."

"You know, when I was a kid, that was the last thing I wanted to be," Ptonomy admits. "I kinda hated my dad."

"Parents," Syd commiserates. "So what made you change your mind?"

"You know something about becoming the parent you hate," Ptonomy says.

Syd definitely does. "I guess it just happens to us."

"It does," Ptonomy says, turning thoughtful. "Being an army brat-- We moved a lot, all over the world. I was-- Kind of a lonely kid, especially after Mom died."

"What about your sister?" Syd asks. "I, uh, saw you with her yesterday."

"I know," Ptonomy says, because of course he does. "We were-- It wasn't like-- Amy and the Davids, or Kerry and Cary. Everything was a competition to be-- The better soldier. I thought she was Dad's favorite, she thought I was."

"Sounds rough," Syd says.

"It was," Ptonomy admits. "In the end-- I was right. She was Dad's favorite, especially after she joined the army. With my powers--" He pauses. "The first time I intentionally walked into someone else's memories, it was my dad's. I thought if I could-- Understand him, see how he became the man he was, I could make him proud of me. Instead--" He stops again, struggling. "I was still pretty young. Ten years old, and I walked into--" He stops, staring at the page, then looks up to meet Syd's eyes. "When I experienced someone else's memories, they became mine. And I couldn't ever forget them."

"I'm sorry," Syd says, not knowing what else to say.

"It's actually-- Easier now," Ptonomy says. "Being in the mainframe.”

"Are you afraid of getting your body back?" Syd asks, curious.

"Maybe a little," Ptonomy admits. "Not so much that I want to be stuck in here."

"Did they know about your powers?" Syd asks. "Your family?"

"When a ten year old kid starts having screaming nightmares about his dad's war trauma, it raises a few questions," Ptonomy says. "Not that they believed me. They just thought-- I had a very active imagination and too much empathy." He gives an unhappy smile. "They didn't think I was crazy, just-- Soft. And that was the worst thing I could be."

"But they know now?"

"Yeah," Ptonomy says. "They still don't really understand, but-- They accept that mutant powers are real, that my powers are-- Something they have to accept if they want me in their life."

"I never told my mom," Syd admits. "But I think-- She must have suspected. I-- Swapped with her. Not just-- That one time. She used sleeping pills, so I'd-- Take them myself, and then swap with her."

"So she'd stay asleep in your body?"

"I couldn't control how long the swaps would last," Syd admits. "I didn't really do much as her, not after-- I just-- Wanted to not be me. But no matter whose body I'm inside, I'm always me."

Ptonomy pauses, thoughtful. "It's been-- A while since I talked like this to anyone."

"Melanie?"

"Of course," Ptonomy says, fond and a little sad. "It's hard knowing she's out there somewhere and there's nothing we can do."

"Oliver's healing," Syd points out. "Maybe he'll be strong enough to look for her soon."

"Maybe," Ptonomy says. "But we were lucky to get him back the first time."

"The Davids will want to help," Syd points out. "Maybe together--"

"Maybe," Ptonomy says. He looks out over the city, then straightens up. "Thank you, Syd. This was-- I needed it."

"Anytime," Syd says. "So how about that foundation?"

Ptonomy frowns at the paper. "David really does make this look a lot easier than it is."

"He does," Syd agrees, heartfelt. "So are you a soldier? Or is that something you need to take out?"

"I don't know," Ptonomy admits. "I've been trapped in wars my whole life. My dad's war, the war on mutants, this war with Farouk."

“Trapped?” Syd points out. “Sounds like you don’t want it.”

“It’s what I know,” Ptonomy points out. “It’s what I’m good at. The world needs soldiers.”

“The world needs a lot of things,” Syd replies. “And you’re good at a lot of things. Being a soldier was your dad’s dream, not yours. My mom wanted me to follow in her footsteps, but that wasn’t right for me either.”

"I've been-- What I needed to be.” Ptonomy admits. “What I thought I needed to be. My dad taught me-- Never be weak, never show where you're vulnerable. Being a soldier was his life."

"But you didn't want that."

"No," Ptonomy says. "My mom-- I wanted to be like her. She had so much love for-- Everything in the world. When she died--" He sobers. "I never got over losing her. It's-- Hard to move on when your memories never fade."

"How about what you're doing now?" Syd offers. "What you did with Melanie?"

"Cary wants us to make a new Summerland," Ptonomy says. "Or something-- Better than that. Something to make the whole world better."

"That sounds like a good dream," Syd says. She's tempted by it herself.

"It feels a long way away," Ptonomy admits.

"Divad wants all of us to think past Farouk," Syd says, remembering it from their conversation yesterday, from the transcripts. "I think we need that."

"Long-term thinking," Ptonomy says. "That's hard when you don't know if you have a long-term."

"Lenny's trying," Syd points out. "Maybe the world will end tomorrow, maybe it won't. Maybe my death won't be on my terms, but I want my life to be." She's been used enough. She doesn't want to be used again.

Ptonomy rubs his beard, thinking. He looks at Syd's foundation work. "My refuge is war," he decides, and writes it down. "That's what feels safe to me. When I'm being a soldier, I feel-- Focused. Certain. I don't have to deal with anything else. Just like my dad."

"Sounds right," Syd agrees.

"Problem with that is, I made everything war," Ptonomy admits. "Everything was a battlefield, everyone was-- An enemy, another soldier, or a civilian who needed to stay out of the fight. There's a high price on that."

"Your family?" Syd asks.

"All my relationships," Ptonomy admits. "Everyone I met. Every situation. Even therapy. My own, the people I helped. It made me-- Miss things. If I hadn't already decided David was a threat, maybe I would have realized he was telling the truth. That he wasn't screwing with his own memories just to piss me off."

"Is that what you thought?" Syd asks, curious.

"Pretty much," Ptonomy says. "I was angry and I needed someone to be angry at."

"I noticed," Syd says. "For my own memory walks, too. I thought-- You were angry with me for not being David."

"I was," Ptonomy admits. "I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Syd says, glad she can mean it.

Ptonomy cracks a smile. "How about we add each other to our to-do lists, and cross them out?" He writes 'Make up with Syd' to his to-do list and crosses it out. Syd takes back her notebook and writes 'Make up with Ptonomy' and crosses that out. They smile at each other.

"So you don't want to be a soldier anymore," Syd tries again.

"No," Ptonomy agrees. "Not that kind of soldier. My dad's kind. Being separate from my body-- It gives me the distance I need. I had to-- Step away from my pain to recognize it."

"You're different now," Syd admits. "I wasn't sure-- How much was really how you felt, and how much was-- What you had to do to win."

"When this started, when the Admiral asked me to help David-- My first thought was 'why bother?' David got me killed, he was unstable and dangerous, he betrayed us to help Farouk. But I only existed because the Admiral saved me, and he could only do that because David saved him. So I figured, might as well give it a shot. And then we found out about the alters."

"That changed your mind?" Syd asks.

"I was in David's head and I missed that he has DID," Ptonomy says. "I wanted the truth. If I had to be the talk guy to get it--" He makes an open gesture.

"So how much is real?" Syd asks.

"More than I expected," Ptonomy admits. "Turns out it's hard to pretend to care without actually caring."

"Maybe you just gave yourself permission to care," Syd offers.

That gives Ptonomy pause. "Maybe I did." He pauses again. "I do care about David. I care about you, about our team. It's-- Caring makes it-- A good therapist should stay detached."

"I don't think Melanie was detached," Syd says. "She cared about all of us."

"And I thought that made her weak," Ptonomy admits. "Guess I was treating her like a soldier."

"And here I thought you were just angry with her about Oliver."

"Oh, I was mad at her for Oliver, too," Ptonomy admits, with mild amusement. "It's some kind of poetic justice that I'm in her shoes. Missing her, hoping desperately for some way to get her back, even though I can't."

"We got Oliver back," Syd reminds him.

"I don't want to wait twenty-one years for Melanie to find us," Ptonomy says. "Assuming she can. We don't know what Farouk did to her, before or after he took her. She's only human." He shakes his head. "Funny how she thought it was her job to protect all of us."

"She did, even without powers," Syd points out. "You know, if you want to talk about long-term thinking-- Cary's new Summerland is going to need someone to lead it."

"Me?" Ptonomy asks, surprised.

"You've got the experience," Syd points out. "You obviously know how to lead. You have a close relationship with the Admiral and you know all the dirty little secrets the government is hiding in the mainframe. Get your body back, keep letting yourself care about other people-- I think you'd be amazing."

Ptonomy thinks about it. "That's a hell of a promotion."

"Oh please, you were wasted as the memory guy," Syd says, waving him off. "Cary wants new Summerland to be therapeutic, not military, right? But someone's gotta handle the politics. You don't want to be a soldier, you don't want to drown yourself in other people's trauma. Be in charge and use your big-picture tactics."

"From soldier to politician," Ptonomy considers. "I think I like it." He thinks some more, then takes the pen and writes his foundation. "I'm a leader. I'm a tactician," he reads aloud. Then he adds to his to-do list. "Discuss position at New Summerland. And my mantra-- Allow myself to care. Let go of my anger."

"You're on a roll," Syd says, impressed.

"My wish list," Ptonomy says. "Lead New Summerland. And my motivation--" He ponders. "To protect the people I care about."

Syd smiles. "That's a really good motivation."

Ptonomy smiles back, genuinely happy.

Chapter 124: Day 12: The true person is the soul. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"I'm going to ask you what you asked me," Ptonomy says, switching back into therapist mode. "How are you doing with all this? How are you dealing with what happened this morning?"

Cary. Syd braces herself. "Lenny's helped a lot. Who'd have thought, right?" She knows she has to open up more than that, so she forces herself on. "Honestly? I just want to sit in a dark room with a bottle of whiskey and feel like shit."

"But you didn't," Ptonomy says.

"No," Syd says. "I know that's— Not actually going to help me."

"What happened wasn't your fault," Ptonomy says.

"I know," Syd says. "It just doesn't feel that way. My powers—" She stops.

"What about them?" Ptonomy prompts. When Syd still can't answer, he tries again. "They've caused you a lot of pain, a lot of problems."

Syd nods. She can manage that. Of all the time to not have the relay—

But she knows Ptonomy understands. That knowledge, their new friendship— Makes it easier for her to keep going.

"I feel like— Even if we all get through this, I should leave," Syd admits.

"Do you want to leave?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," Syd says, certain.

"Then stay," Ptonomy says.

"What if we can't fix Cary?" Syd asks. "What if— I do this to someone else? Cary's dream— It wouldn't be safe to have someone like me in a place like that."

"We still don't know why it happened," Ptonomy points out. "You were able to safely swap with Matilda and Doctor Orwell. You were able to touch Cary with no reaction from your powers."

"I still can't believe that," Syd admits. It all happened so fast, but the sheer shock of being able to touch Cary— Though even if they do find a way to put him back together, she doubts he'll ever want to get near her again.

She has that effect on people.

She pulls in on herself as she thinks of David.

"He could barely look at me again," she says, and forces herself to meet Ptonomy's eyes. "David. How bad is it? His trauma?"

Ptonomy hesitates. "He needs to tell you that himself. But we can talk about your side of things. David is on your to-do list. So what will help you heal your relationship with him?"

"I feel like— All I can do is wait for him," Syd admits. "Every time I try to get close, I push him away."

"You're not a passive person," Ptonomy points out. "I know when there's a problem, you look for ways to solve it. You're proactive. You've spent a year as one of Division 3's strategic leaders. So apply some of that strategy to your own situation."

Syd takes a calming breath and tries to think. It's difficult. She has so many feelings about David, about what happened. Things are— Tangled. Like they are for David. "I have to untangle my own feelings."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, pleased. "So let's do that. Where would you like to start?"

"Um. How about— What I gave you this morning?"

"Good idea," Ptonomy says. "I haven't had as much time as I'd like, but— Let's go through it together. I'll tell you what stands out to me."

Syd nods.

Ptonomy pauses to review the data. "You miss what you used to have with David," he decides. "You felt safe, in control. Now you don't."

"Yes," Syd admits. "I know that— Our relationship needs to be balanced to be healthy. But—" She swallows.

"You're afraid not being in control of David means losing him," Ptonomy says.

"Isn't that what happened?" Syd asks.

"Is that how you feel?"

"Yes," Syd admits. "He wasn't— Listening to me anymore."

"And when did he stop listening?"

"As soon as he came back," Syd says, upset. "He was already—" She bites back what she wants to say. That David lied to her, that he kept secrets from her, that he wouldn't tell her where he'd been. She knows the reasons for all of those things now.

"I know what happened," she continues, calmer. "I know he was— Doing exactly what I told him. It was just a different me."

"Let's talk about that," Ptonomy says. "How do you feel about David's relationship with your future self?"

Syd huffs. "I mean, she's me, right?"

"Right," Ptonomy says. "But it's clear that you see her as both yourself and as a separate person. David struggles with that, but I don't think he genuinely accepts the distinction. You are you, no matter when you are."

"The missing arm should be a hint," Syd says, remembering their discussion of this before.

"David has an unusual perspective on reality," Ptonomy says. "Even setting aside the hallucinations Farouk subjected him to, he experiences the world on multiple planes of existence, often simultaneously. Astral and mental projections, psychic messages, psychic time travel. He tends to simply accept whatever is presented to him as real because he has no easy way to differentiate— Our limited, physical reality from the other realities that intersect with it. And arguably all of those realities are real. Human vision can't register ultraviolet, but ultraviolet is real. How do you see the world? How do your powers affect your perceptions?"

Syd thinks about that. "They don't change anything visually."

"How about emotionally?" Ptonomy asks. "Your powers separate the soul from the body. How does that affect your feelings about bodies?"

Syd hesitates. "I guess— It feels like— Bodies are just— Things. Something our souls are inside, but— Not us."

"Your powers encourage you to objectify bodies," Ptonomy agrees. "I think your history supports that. Your use of David's body to practice your powers. Your use of your mom's body when you were a teenager. The true person is the soul. Right?"

Syd nods, thoughtful.

"So why should it matter that your soul's body is missing its arm in the future?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd gives an amused huff. "Okay. So you're saying— David sees people as their souls?"

"If it helps you understand his perspective, yes," Ptonomy says. "I think all mind readers give weight to the perceived mind, the part of the person they hear inside their own heads. Thoughts are less guarded, more honest. If someone likes you or doesn't like you, you don't have to guess, you know. Even if it's not visually separate, that part of people probably feels the most real."

"Even if all that's true— It— Bothers me that— There's another me that I can't control," Syd says.

"Future Syd definitely made her own choices."

"She should have taken me," Syd says. "If she wanted to change things, I'm the one she should have trusted. Not David, and definitely not Farouk.”

"I don't thinks she trusted anyone," Ptonomy says. "But you've got a point. Why wouldn't she reach out to her past self?"

It only takes a moment for Syd to figure it out "Because if she told me her plan, that would have been telling David and Farouk."

"Makes sense," Ptonomy says. "Telepathy makes deception incredibly challenging. And most strategy is based on deception."

"I need to be able to shield my thoughts."

"If we had a way to create artificial mental shields, a lot of things would be different," Ptonomy says. "Now that we know telepathy happens through the astral plane— If there is a solution, it will have to be there. Mutant powers are genetic, but we don't know how to isolate a specific power in the DNA. There's rarely a single gene that does one thing."

"Point made," Syd says, annoyed.

"My point is that short of putting yourself into the mainframe, which I don't recommend, you need to accept the existence of telepathy in your life. You need to accept that your old way of protecting yourself — closing yourself off from everyone else — is not going to be the answer. Looking back at your life, was it ever the answer?"

Syd crosses her arms, frustrated.

"A lot of your issues come back to control," Ptonomy says. "You know that. This morning, you acknowledged that you're very uncomfortable with compromise, with allowing other people to influence your choices. And all these issues with David come back to your need to have all the control in your relationship with him. It's not just that you don't like the choices he makes. You don't like that he's able to make them."

"Yes," Syd admits, gritting it out.

"That need for control," Ptonomy says. "That's common with BPD. I know we've been busy with other areas, but I think we need to focus on this for you to make progress. Okay?"

Syd's still not happy about that diagnosis, but she's accepted it. "Okay," she sighs.

"Control is a kind of anxiety management," Ptonomy says. "You try to control other people when you can't control how you feel. Your negative feelings are too painful for you to confront directly. You push them outwards, project them onto those around you, and then punish them so you can avoid punishing yourself."

Syd pulls in on herself, pained.

Ptonomy gives her a considering look. "I know this is difficult, but facing these things is the only way you'll get better. It's the only way your relationship with David will heal."

"I just want—" Syd tries. "Just tell me what to do."

"You sound like David, asking me to rip the band-aid off," Ptonomy says, a little fondly. "There's no quick fix for any of this, not for him or for you. You have to accept the reality of your problems, you have to do the work and commit to changing how you think and behave."

"I'm trying," Syd says.

"I know you are," Ptonomy says. "I can see that you're pushing yourself hard. But you can't rush yourself through therapy any more than David can."

"We don't have years for me to get better," Syd reminds him.

"We don't," Ptonomy agrees. "So let's focus on what we can do now, what will help you get through stressful situations without reverting to damaging behavior. Let's talk about what happens when you lose control."

Syd takes a sharp breath in, straightens.

"BPD means your brain is always on high alert," Ptonomy says. "You're primed to go right into fight-or-flight. So when you feel threatened, that's what kicks in. For you, it's usually fight. That's what makes you impulsive, that's what makes you turn to emotional and physical violence. But there's also flight. That's when you pull away from everyone and punish yourself and drink. Right?"

"Right," Syd grits out. Sometimes it feels like those two choices are all she's ever had: punish the world or punish herself.

"These are normal human stress responses," Ptonomy says. "But when we can't manage them, that's when they hurt us. So what's going to help you most is to learn how to bring that high-alert down, control those impulses, and tolerate feelings of distress."

"Oh," Syd says, surprised.

"You expected something else?"

"I—" Syd pauses. "Yeah."

"Like I said, you're always primed for a fight," Ptonomy says. "Honestly, that's been a problem for me, too. I'm sorry I've been— Confrontational in your therapy."

Syd's surprised again. She's not sure how to react, so she just nods.

"Divad and Dvd's therapy brought up the need for— Better ways to manage our emotions, especially our anger and distress. There's some worksheets in the lab and we're all going to use them together when we get the chance, but let's get you started now. Get your notebook ready."

"Um, okay," Syd says. She flips to the next blank page.

"We are our emotions," Ptonomy says. "More than our memories or our physical selves, we are— How we react to the world. When our emotions are painful, our natural impulse is to push that pain away, but a lot of that pain comes from the way we refuse to let ourselves feel. It's like— Emotions are a flowing river. If you dam it up, all that does it make it spill over, flood. If you try to push it down, the pressure builds up until it's intense and destructive."

"So I just have to— Let it flow?" Syd asks, skeptically.

"Basically, yes," Ptonomy says. "Give yourself permission to feel. Don't push your feelings away, no matter how much you want to. Acknowledge them, recognize the ways your body is reacting to them."

Syd writes that down. "Then what?"

"Remind yourself that just because you feel something, that doesn't mean it's true," Ptonomy says. "You may feel betrayed, but that doesn't mean someone betrayed you. Feel the emotion but don't let it choose for you."

"I never thought of— My emotions as controlling me," Syd admits. Most of the time she's tried to make herself too numb to feel anything at all. "I don't want to be controlled."

"Then don't let them," Ptonomy says. "Experience them, acknowledge them, and then— Let them go. They were upsetting, so do something to soothe yourself. Bring that high-alert down."

"Like what?"

"Touch is a big one," Ptonomy says. "That's what David relies on. But it doesn't have to be human touch. It could be something soft, or a strong sensation like heat or cold. There's also taste and smell. A favorite food, a favorite scent. Some people keep a picture of something soothing, or they imagine it. And there's sound. Lenny soothes herself with music, but it could be white noise or nature sounds. Whatever works for you."

"Sitting in the dark and drinking?" Syd asks, wryly.

"I don't recommend that one," Ptonomy says, with a crooked smile. "That makes you feel worse, not better."

Syd thinks about that. "I'm not— Used to feeling better. I think— Everything I've done to soothe myself was a punishment."

"Like your cutting?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd nods. "Hurting myself— It's like the Davids. It feels good."

"That's something you need to unlearn," Ptonomy warns.

Syd makes more notes. "What next?"

"That was the short-term," Ptonomy says. "It's what you do in the moment. But what's going to make the biggest impact is the long-term work. Strengthen your emotional intelligence. That's self-management, self-awareness, social awareness, and relationship management. They'll help you learn to tolerate distress instead of getting swept away by it."

Syd writes it down, but she already feels overwhelmed. "This is a lot."

"It is," Ptonomy agrees. "But these aren't just a problem with BPD. We all need to do this and we'll do it together. You're just jumping to the head of the class."

That makes Syd feel a little better. She looks over her notes again. "I'm worried about— Shocks. This will help?"

"It will," Ptonomy agrees. "You're right. Intense emotions are overwhelming. They make it hard to make healthy decisions. These skills are our defense against that weapon."

"Okay," Syd says, resolving herself. If she doesn't want to be used again, she has to do the work. She knew that, but this feels— Solid. Practical. It feels like a lifeline. "Thank you. I think— This is what I need."

"You're welcome," Ptonomy says. "This is a good point for us to stop, so let's head down. Cary needs us in the infirmary."

"Cary?" Syd asks, surprised. "Did they figure out how to get him back into his body?"

"They're working on that right now," Ptonomy says.

"Thank god," Syd breathes, feeling a huge weight lift off her shoulders. She closes her notebook and stands, and notices— Ptonomy looks worried. "What's wrong? Is something happening?"

"No, but—" Ptonomy starts, then shakes his head. "Let's go."

Chapter 125: Day 12: Some unknowable number of untended wounds. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

A tiny fossil brachiopod, Precambrian limestone clam, fingernail-small four hundred fifty million years. Tiny-ridged shell delicate as hardened thought.

Oliver's not sure why he remembers those lines of poetry. But his head is a jumble of poetry these days, drifting spider-silk threads peeking out from the abyss, each thread waiting for the right wind to tug it up into the light, to lift its little memory like a sail and pull him wholly along.

This room is full of grief. There's David, of course, wailing in harmony with Amy's silent thoughts, Dvd and Divad his soft accompaniment. There's Cary and Kerry, both singing the same pain but as apart as they are together. And then there's himself.

What’s to be done about death? Nothing, nothing.

He winces against another flash of— Another life snuffed out, too far out of reach to save. This pain is old and yet— It feels new, raw. He came back to his body and found it— Bleeding out from some unknowable number of untended wounds.

He's still trying to remember— What happened to him. How he ended up— Lost, frozen. He remembers the deaths, the suffocating weight of— Failure? He thinks it's failure. But the feeling is just another drifting thread, connected to things still out of reach.

He's not sure he wants all of this. They told him— He ran away from his pain, ran too far and couldn't find his way back again. He's starting to understand why.

More flashes, more raw grief, and he can't— It's too much for him, all at once, all— Ripped open by metal explosion— caught in barbed wire, fire ball, bullet shock, bayonet, electricity, bomb blast terrific in skull and belly, shrapneled throbbing meat—

They told him he has to stay in his body, that it's the only way he'll heal. But surely it won't hurt to just— Rest for a while. To step away from his body's pain, as the Davids do. Just for a little while.

He sits up, leaving his body to rest on the bed, and the relief is immediate. The assault ceases, though the painful memories that have already returned remain. He sits heavily on the next bed and struggles with what he has.

His name is Oliver Anthony Bird and he helps people. He has a family, a wife, friends. He made a safe haven for mutants, but he couldn't save enough of them. He watched them die, and then— He walked away. From them, from himself.

He doesn't remember all of that. Most of it is still just stories, mostly from Cary. He remembers Summerland, remembers following David there, remembers— Being taken. And now— He remembers grieving there. He remembers— Cary and Kerry and Melanie and— There are other people but he can't see their faces. Are they dead now? Probably. Twenty years is a long time in a war.

He’s not sure how he knows that.

He wonders if he cared about them, the faceless people. He probably did. But he's not sure he wants them back if they're long gone. It's difficult enough dealing with the people he cared about who are still alive.

Cares about. Not cared, cares. He cares about Melanie, about Cary. About Kerry, too, even though his memories of her are— Faint at best. He cares about David. He definitely has quite a lot of feelings about David, even though he's not sure what they are. His feelings generally are still— Difficult to reach.

Cary’s trying his best to avoid his feelings. Lenny and Kerry are finishing the rocket lamp parts, and Cary's already looking for the next distraction. Cary has a very busy mind, Oliver's noticed. But it’s busy the way an animal is busy when writhing in a trap.

Hmm. He’s not sure how he knows that either. How minds are. How animals are, and in particular ones in traps. Someone should free them, really.

Maybe he should free Cary.

‘Cary,’ Oliver thinks to him. ‘Would you like to come out?’

‘Oliver,’ Cary thinks, sounding hurt. ‘Please, now is not the time for— Whatever this is.’

‘What do you think it is?’ Oliver thinks, curious.

‘A joke?’ Cary thinks to himself. ‘No, I’m— I’m sorry, I know you wouldn’t—‘

“Cary?” Kerry says, concerned. “Are you talking to Oliver?”

‘I hate that she can hear all my thoughts,’ Cary thinks, and immediately regrets it. ‘I’m sorry, Kerry, I didn’t—‘

“You meant it,” Kerry says, not letting it go. “I was inside you for years and I never thought bad things about you!”

‘Maybe you should have,’ Cary thinks, glumly.

Kerry sighs. “Maybe we should try again.”

“There’s no point,’ Cary sulks. ‘Even if we’re a system—‘

“We are!” Kerry insists.

‘We’re not like other systems,’ Cary finishes.

“Cary, you have to keep trying,” Kerry presses.

‘Kerry, enough,’ Cary snaps.

Kerry’s mouth draws into a thin line. “Being inside shouldn’t make you mean,” she declares.

‘I’m sorry,’ Cary thinks, realizing he went too far and yet— Unable to feel anything but hopeless.

‘Cary,’ Oliver thinks again. ‘I’m sure you’d feel much better if you stepped out. Here, let me.’ He walks up to Kerry and reaches inside her, and pulls.

Cary stumbles out. “What?” he says, looking down at himself in astonishment. 'I'm myself again.' “How?”

“A bit of astral projection,” Oliver explains. “Very simple.”

“Astral projection,” Cary says, realizing. “Of course! Oh! Oliver, you can’t— Being out of your body isn’t good for you.”

Oliver waves off his concern. “We’ll be fine.”

“Cary?” Kerry calls, concerned.

“I’m right here,” Cary tells her, immediately annoyed, and then immediately regretful again.

“Are you sulking again?” Kerry asks, annoyed herself.

“No, I’m—“ Cary starts.

“Fine, be that way,” Kerry sighs, and gets back to work on the lamp.

“She can’t hear me,” Cary realizes. He waves at Kerry to get her attention. She keeps working. “But the Davids—“ He smacks his forehead. “Of course. No telepathic powers. So this means— Oliver, am I just— My soul?”

“Half your soul," Oliver decides.

"Astonishing," Cary marvels. "Have you ever done this before? Pulled someone into the astral plane?"

"I don't know, have I?" Oliver asks.

'Did he?' Cary thinks. 'Melanie might know, if she were—' "You didn't do that with Kerry. But then we didn't— It was just about— Getting her to come out on her own." He concentrates, then snaps his fingers. "Last year! In the— The false Clockworks. You brought me to your ice cube."

"I did," Oliver agrees. He's pleased to see Cary's mood improving.

"David had already pulled all of us from our bodies," Cary says. "But we were trapped in— Well, I suppose— It was one of David's white rooms. A constructed space inside his mind." There's a burst of chaotic thought as he works through it. Then he looks at Kerry, reaches for her, then pulls back. "Do you think— Would it be possible to— Step back into my body, like— Like the Davids?"

"I have no idea," Oliver admits, cheerfully. "We could find out?"

"We could," Cary says, and now he's very excited. He starts to move this way and that, his thoughts another scatter of chaos. "I need to talk to Divad, to my team. We need to get back to the infirmary. Oliver, when you were on the astral plane— We saw you in Summerland, in your diving suit. You made yourself visible. Can you do that? Can we do that?" 'Why didn't we research Oliver's powers more? There’s so much we still don’t understand.'

"I can try," Oliver offers. He doesn't remember what Cary described, but that’s hardly unusual. He concentrates on— The feeling of being— Seen.

"What the—" Lenny startles. She looks back at Oliver's body resting on the bed, then at Oliver's astral projection. She grabs a screwdriver from the bench and holds it out like a weapon. "Some kinda shit beetle bullshit—"

"Oliver?" Kerry says, surprised. And then— "Cary?!"

"What the hell?" Lenny says. She lowers the screwdriver and then raises it again.

"It's all right," Cary assures them. "Oliver's helping me."

"Cary, I can't hear you," Kerry says, worried.

"Oh, sorry," Oliver says. He didn't think to add the feeling of being heard. He concentrates again.

"Kerry?" Cary says. "Tell me when you can hear me."

"Oh!" Kerry lights up. "I can hear you!" She rushes up to him, stares at him in intense curiosity. "You're not all there," she says, and puts her hand through him. "I can see through you."

Cary looks at himself and Oliver. 'We look solid to me.' "Oliver's helping me astral project from our body. Obviously crossing over to the physical plane isn't a simple matter. I'm not sure how long he can sustain this, but— I might have a way to get back into my body."

"Cary, that's great!" Kerry says, delighted.

David and Amy come over. "Divad's ready to help," David relays. "And Dvd. And, well, me, if I can do anything."

"We need to get to the infirmary," Cary tells them. "Tell the research team to meet us there."

"Done," Amy says. "Ptonomy and Syd will come down when they're done."

They head out. 'It's strange being non-corporeal,' Cary thinks. He looks at Oliver as they approach the elevator. "Maybe you should go back to your body first. You'd only have to do this for one person instead of two."

"I'd rather not," Oliver admits.

"Oliver," Cary says, concerned. "This is what happened before. You have to go back to your body, like I'm doing."

They reach the infirmary. The research team is setting up, checking over the equipment.

"Cary," Doctor Orwell says, relieved. Then her eyes widen. "Astral projection. Fantastic!"

"Record everything," Cary tells her. "All the wavelengths, and— Try the psychic filter."

"Yes, sir," Doctor Orwell says, and starts directing the team.

"I can't astral project on my own," Cary tells everyone. "But Oliver, David, and Farouk all have the same ability to— Draw a soul out of its body. So theoretically, all I need to do to get back into my physical body is— The same thing Kerry and I have always done. The same thing the Davids do. I'm going to step in and— Everything should reconnect."

"Theoretically," Divad says. "What about the damage from the separation? The anoxia?"

"It's hard to tell what damage there is until Cary is actually in his body," Doctor Orwell says. "Hopefully it was minimal, but—"

"Maybe I can heal him," Kerry offers. "If it's not too bad."

"No," Cary refuses.

"You can't say that," Kerry says, annoyed. "I'm on the outside now. It's my job to heal you."

"You will not take my injuries," Cary insists. "Absolutely not."

"If you're unconscious you can't stop me," Kerry threatens.

Cary sighs. "Kerry— We've always had a delicate ecosystem. Whatever condition my body is in, it is not acceptable for you to risk both our lives. Trying to heal me before— That could have killed us."

"I just want to help," Kerry says, upset.

Cary moves to hug her, then realizes he can't. "I know," he says, gentler. "I'm sorry I've been— Difficult lately. This has all been— Extremely hard for me."

"Then let me help," Kerry says.

"We're supposed to have that session with Ptonomy," Cary says. "We'll talk about— Everything then, but— I have to do this first and I can't if it might hurt you."

Kerry crosses her arms, pouting, but— Relents. "Fine. I promise not to try to heal you even though that's stupid."

"Thank you," Cary says, and offers her a half-smile.

Kerry reaches to hug him, and realizes she can't. "Get back in your body so we can hug again," she tells him.

Cary stands beside his body. 'It looks— Ill,' he thinks. 'Now that I finally have the chance to get back inside it— My body was— Actually dead for a few minutes. I knows how dangerous even a few minutes can be. All life is— A sustained chemical reaction, carefully maintained. Interruptions to that reaction can be— Catastrophic.' He clenches his fists. 'I have to try. I can do this. I have to. For— For Kerry.'

The last thought is finally enough to compel him on. He sits down over his body, lies back, and then— Disappears into it. Oliver stops sustaining Cary's physicality, but maintains his own.

For a while, nothing happens. Syd and Ptonomy join them, and Syd hangs back, still trying not to feel like Cary's condition is her fault. Divad and the research team closely monitor all the machines, but Oliver doesn't hear any thoughts and Cary doesn't even twitch.

"It might take time for his soul to reconnect with his body," Divad guesses. "I suppose— If we have to, Oliver can just pull him out again."

"Wait," Doctor Orwell says. "Look, there's activity."

"C'mon Cary," Divad murmurs. "You can do this."

"His eyes are moving!" Kerry says, excited. They're still closed, but Cary's eyes are clearly flicking back and forth. And then— They flutter open. "Cary!" Kerry calls, and grips his arm.

'Kerry?' Cary thinks, weakly.

"He's calling for you," Oliver tells Kerry.

"Cary, I'm right here," Kerry says.

'Hurts,' Cary thinks.

"He says it hurts," Oliver relays.

"What hurts?" Doctor Orwell asks.

"His soul must be reconnecting to his body," Divad says, and types at the computer. "Doctor Orwell, look at this activity here."

"Fascinating," Doctor Orwell says. She stares intently at the monitor, then points at something. "I don't like this."

"Let's compare it with the scans you took without Cary inside," Divad says, typing again.

'Damn it,' Doctor Orwell thinks. 'This is what I was afraid of. God, what are we going to do?'

"Cary?" Kerry calls again. "If you tell us where it hurts, maybe— We can help you." She glances at Oliver. "You don't even have to say it, just— Just think it, okay?"

'Hurts,' Cary thinks again, strained with confusion and pain.

'This is not good,' Divad thinks.

"Then get him out of there," Dvd says.

"He only just went inside," David protests.

"His body's a wreck," Dvd says. "His brain is fucked, how's he supposed to use it?"

"Get him out," Dvd says again. "Oliver, get Cary out!"

"Get him out," Divad agrees.

"What's going on?" Kerry asks. She's on the verge of panicking.

"Amy, could you?" Divad asks.

"C'mon," Amy says, urging Kerry away from the bed. "Let Oliver work."

Oliver reaches into Cary's body and pulls him out. Cary staggers and then sits down heavily in the chair Kerry left, clutching his head. Oliver makes him visible and audible again.

'It still hurts,' Cary thinks.

"Cary?" Kerry says, reaching for him.

'Why can't I—' Cary starts. 'I feel so weak.'

"He feels weak," Oliver relays. "He's having trouble talking."

"Even as an astral projection?" Ptonomy asks.

"But he was fine," Kerry protests.

"The body and the soul are— Symbiotic," Divad says, thinking aloud. "We've been focused on how— Returning the soul to the body is a good thing, restoring memories and coherence, but— A damaged body has the potential to damage the mind inside the soul."

"My god," Doctor Orwell says. "Can he— Is it possible for him to heal? As an astral projection?"

"He wasn't inside for long," Divad says. "Probably the best thing will be— For him to be inside a healthy body. Kerry."

'No,' Cary thinks, weakly. 'I don't want to go back.'

Kerry gets a determined look. "Will him being in me hurt me?" she asks Divad.

"Probably not," Divad says. "The 'inside' half of your soul doesn't seem to affect your primary body."

Kerry marches up to Cary. "You're gonna go back inside me and you're gonna let me heal you," she tells him. "Maybe I can't heal your body but I can help our soul."

Cary gives her a mournful look.

"You have to get better," Kerry says, stubborn but gentle. She reaches for him again, touching through him, then she straightens up. She braces herself and then she sits down over Cary, and Cary's astral form fades away. Kerry lets out a slow breath. "I've got him," she says.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, visibly thinking even though Oliver can't hear his thoughts. "Cary can't go back into his body until it's healed. How bad is the damage?"

"Bad," Doctor Orwell says, unhappily. "Anoxia is— Devastating to the brain. Global cerebral ischemia— That affects language, sensory processing, movement, memory. Even best case scenarios require years of treatment to restore basic functionality. Much of the damage may be simply— Irreparable."

Inside of Kerry— Cary start to cry.

'Why did I let them touch me?' Syd thinks, devastated.

"Cary," Kerry says, worried. "He's crying," she relays, and starts crying herself. She leaps out of the chair and into Amy's arms, and buries her face against Amy's shoulder.

'If I could just heal Cary's body the way I'm healing ours,' Divad thinks. 'Why didn't it work with Mom?'

"Oliver," Ptonomy says, turning to him. "Thank you for your help, but— I think it's time you went back to your body, too."

"Perhaps not," Oliver says. "My body is also quite painful."

"Your situation is different from Cary's," Ptonomy says.

"Is it?" Oliver asks, genuinely. "I feel more myself as a projection."

'He doesn't even know what his 'self' is,' Dvd thinks, unimpressed.

"That is a fair point," Oliver admits. "Perhaps I don't feel like myself. But perhaps 'myself' isn't something I want to feel like at all."

"You're unhappy with your memories?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yes," Oliver says, bluntly.

"Oliver, all those years ago," Ptonomy says, thoughtful. "You helped all those people. But did you ever get help for your own trauma?"

'He didn't,' Cary thinks. 'That's why we lost him.'

"Cary says he didn't, and that's why we lost Oliver," Kerry relays, through her tears.

"Doctors make the worst patients," Ptonomy admits. "Most of us are guilty of that. It's hard for us to ask for help. Oliver, do you really want to forget everything all over again? Do you really want to just— Drift away?"

Oliver isn't sure how to answer that. He wants to remember Melanie, Cary, Kerry. He wants to remember his past. But what he's getting back is— Agonizing. Even as a projection. It hurts so much. He wants the pain to stop. Like the Davids.

"You've listened to us telling you who you used to be," Ptonomy says. "How about we go back to the lab, to your body. You tell us what you remember and we'll listen? Maybe it'll help."

Everyone is looking at Oliver. It's strange to be the center of so much attention. He was so lonely in the ice cube for so long. He forgot how to be anything but lonely.

But he's not alone anymore. And he's seen— That sharing grief can make it— Easier to bear. In a sense— That's why the Davids are a system. Perhaps that's why Cary and Kerry are a system. Perhaps that's why— He and Melanie—

Melanie.

"Very well," Oliver accepts. "Though perhaps a drink first?"

Chapter 126: Day 12: System-to-system. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

Oliver's already back in his body by the time they get back to the lab. He was fine when he was an astral projection, but now he's crying again. Not sobbing, not really upset, just— Crying.

'Oliver,' Cary thinks, worried. 'Kerry, take us to him.'

Kerry walks over to the sleeping area. Oliver is sitting on his bed, blotting at his eyes with a tissue. "Oliver?"

Oliver gives them a sad look. "Perhaps that drink?"

'We'll get you one, but— Oliver, why didn't you ever— Why didn't you just tell us what was wrong?' Cary thinks. 'Of course we would have helped you.'

"I have no idea," Oliver admits. "There's still— Quite a lot missing." He frowns, pensive.

'You're getting the worst parts first,' Cary thinks. 'I wish we could give you— The good memories. There's so many good memories, Oliver. You have to let yourself heal so— So you can get them back.'

"I cried looking at the happy flowers in my backyard," Oliver says, obviously reciting. "I cried at the sadness of the middle-aged trees."

'The memories are in there,' Cary thinks, certain.

"Are you feeling better?" Oliver asks. "Now that you're back in your body?"

'This isn't my body,' Cary thinks.

Kerry crosses her arms, angry. "Stop thinking things like that. Of course my body is your body. Your body was my body."

'I don't want your body to be my body!' Cary thinks, upset. 'I don't want to be— You!'

Kerry fights back her own tears. "You're so awful now! Why are you so awful!"

'Kerry,' Cary thinks, hurt. 'I'm sorry, I just— This is—'

"Yeah, it's hard, you keep saying that," Kerry says, annoyed. "But all you do is think mean things about being stuck inside me!"

Cary doesn't say anything, but she can feel his frustration.

They're making a scene, so it's not a surprise when someone comes over. It's a little surprising that it's Divad.

"Karies," Divad says, concerned. "Now that you're going to be sharing for a while, maybe— We can help. Me and Dvd. You know, system-to-system."

Cary feels pained at the reminder that they're a system, which only frustrates Kerry more. "Cary doesn't want to be a system."

"I think— We've all felt that way at some point," Divad admits. "But Cary, this is— The truth matters to you, right? People need the truth so they can— Understand themselves. So they can get better."

'There is no getting better,' Cary thinks, bleakly. 'My body is— It's destroyed.'

"Cary says he can't get better because his body's hurt," Kerry relays. "But he has my body, too! He's not— He didn't get all the way disembodied. His body’s a physical projection."

'It wasn't before,' Cary thinks, upset. 'Farouk did that to us. He— He destroyed who I was!'

"Cary says this is Farouk's fault," Kerry relays. "And yeah, I mean— Obviously! But you're acting like— Like it's the worst thing in the world to be inside me! And I never felt that way about you!"

'You should have,' Cary mutters.

Kerry wishes Cary was outside of her so she could punch him for that. She's never ever wanted to hurt Cary before but right now—

"What did he say?" Divad asks.

Kerry doesn't even want to repeat it.

"He said she should have," Oliver relays.

Divad winces. He glances at Ptonomy. "Aren't you two supposed to have a session today?"

"Yeah," Kerry says, unhappily.

"Oliver, would you mind waiting?" Ptonomy asks.

"How about that drink?" Oliver asks.

"We'll get it," Lenny says. "Syd, c'mon." The two of them head out.

"Let's sit together," Amy suggests, and heads for the sitting area.

Kerry huffs, but marches over and nabs her favorite beanbag chair before anyone else can. Oliver takes the other one, settling in with a tissue box on his lap.

"Are you sure?" Divad asks, looking at empty space. He must be talking to David or Dvd. "Okay." He sits down on the sofa and leans back. When he opens his eyes again, he's someone else. Kerry knows it's Dvd right away.

"You need the expert on being inside? That's me," Dvd declares. "And I know all about helping someone else be inside when they were outside before."

"Thank you, Dvd," Ptonomy says, as he takes his usual loveseat.

"Dvd, is there somewhere your system would like me to sit?" Amy asks.

Dvd listens. "David says he'll sit with you there." He points at the other loveseat. "He's still learning how to be a headmate, so he just wants to watch."

Amy sits down, pauses, then smiles at where David must be sitting, even though none of them can hear him.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. He looks around at everyone before settling on the Karies. "Kerry, since Cary's not able to speak using your system's body, you'll have to relay for him as best you can. Think you can handle that?"

"Of course," Kerry insists.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "But if Cary says something upsetting, you may not feel able to relay it. Oliver, if that happens, can you relay for Cary? Verbally, not telepathically."

Oliver dabs at his eyes with a tissue. "Certainly."

"Let's start with the basics," Ptonomy says. "Kerry, tell us what's wrong, from your perspective."

"Cary's being awful," Kerry says. "He hates being inside me and he hates being a system. I never hated being inside Cary! But he's acting like— Like it's the worst thing that could ever happen. And that's mean and— It's rude to the Davids."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "And you're okay with Cary being inside you? With being a system?"

"I'm proud to be a system like I'm proud to be a mutant," Kerry says, firmly. "We always wondered what we are and now we know. And of course I'm fine with Cary being inside me. That's how we always worked. But—" She hesitates.

"But?" Ptonomy prompts.

"Cary never made me feel bad for being inside him," Kerry says. "We were happy. And now— It's like he's making everything wrong, and it wasn't wrong before."

"You feel like— Because he's not happy inside, maybe you shouldn't have been?" Ptonomy asks.

"Cary said it," Kerry tells him. "He said I should have been— I should have hated being inside him. He said it like it's my fault I wasn't, like I'm bad! Cary never made me feel like I was bad!"

"Okay,' Ptonomy says. "Cary, how about you tell us your perspective? And Kerry, try to relay exactly what he says. No rephrasing."

'What Kerry said is true,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays. 'This change we've been forced to endure— It's made me realize that— Everything about how we were was wrong.'

Kerry crosses her arms, extremely angry that she's being forced to say these things.

"How so?" Ptonomy prompts.

Cary sighs. 'Kerry only spent an average of four hours outside of me each day. I treated her more like— An extension of myself than as an individual. I never forced her to be independent, and that enabled— Unhealthy behavior.'

Dvd doesn't look pleased when Kerry relays that, but he doesn't say anything.

"And how do you feel about your own situation?" Ptonomy asks.

'Quite honestly, this is— A nightmare,' Cary thinks. Kerry's even more upset by that, but she's going to relay even if it kills her. She's not gonna fail at being in charge. 'Without my own body— What kind of life could I have?'

"You may be able to share your system's body, like the Davids can," Ptonomy points out. "How would that affect how you feel?"

Cary doesn't reply. "He won't say," Kerry says.

"Cary," Ptonomy starts. "Obviously the best outcome would be for us to find a way to heal your physical projection's brain damage so you can return to it. But we need to deal with your situation as it is now."

'If I could just stay an astral projection,' Cary thinks, but when Kerry start relaying, Cary interrupts her. 'No, that— Don't say that aloud. Oh darn it, Oliver already heard.'

"Cary would prefer to be an astral projection," Oliver relays. "As would I."

"That's not an option," Ptonomy warns, firmly. "Cary, how are you feeling physically? Are you recovering from being in your physical projection?"

'It's difficult to tell,' Cary admits, and Kerry relays. 'My body felt— Paralyzed. But I can't move Kerry's body either. I suppose— The pain is fading.'

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "From what you've said, there are three major issues. One is how to deal with the situation you're in now. The second is— Your new perspective on how your system used to work. And the last one is a problem of identity. Knowing that you're a DID system changes how you feel about a lot of things."

'Yes,' Cary thinks, and Kerry agrees.

"Let's take that last one first," Ptonomy says. "Kerry, you said you're happy to find out you're a system."

"I am," Kerry says, certain.

"What about it feels good to you?" Ptonomy asks.

Kerry thinks. "Having to be outside, it's been— Really hard for me. And even though Cary helped a lot, I still— I didn't— There was no one else like me. No one who was an inside person. But Dvd and Divad were inside people. Even David was an inside person for a while. And there's the systems in the books, and— Now there's all these people who understand, who can help me and— I can help them and— I'm not alone. We're not alone."

She smiles at Dvd, who smiles back.

Kerry feels Cary's guilt flare up.

"Cary feels guilty," Kerry relays.

"Cary?" Ptonomy prompts.

'I didn't know,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays. 'I had no idea that Kerry felt so alone.'

"I didn't know either," Kerry tells him. "I thought what we had was all I needed."

"But you don't anymore," Ptonomy says.

Kerry shakes her head.

"So why do you think it's enough for Cary?" Ptonomy asks, gently.

Kerry hesitates. She feels another wave of guilt, then realizes it's her own. "I guess it's not. I just—" She hesitates again. "I thought— If we just— Did the same thing we did before—" She looks down at her hands. Their hands? "I don't know what else to do."

"It's okay to not know," Ptonomy says. "We're all here to help. We'll figure everything out together, right?"

"Right," Kerry says, and feels a little better.

"Cary, how does being a system feel to you?" Ptonomy asks.

Kerry feels a lot of different feelings from Cary all at once. 'When Melanie and Oliver found me— They told me I wasn't sick, that I was a mutant, that— Those things made me belong. It was the same thing they told David and— So many others. Oliver, you don't remember, but— You changed my life so profoundly. But now I know that— You were wrong. I was sick, I am sick, and— I feel like— That means I don't belong.'

Kerry relays all of that, but she doesn't like it. "Being a system doesn't mean you're sick," she tells Cary. "And— Even if it did, being sick doesn't mean you don't belong. You said your dream was for everyone to belong."

'It's what I want,' Cary agrees, and Kerry relays. 'But it's not— What I've had. I protected you from so much, Kerry. I helped you hide from— Cruelty and judgement. I didn't want you to endure that pain.'

"I know," Kerry says. "I want to protect you, too."

'I don't want to be protected,' Cary insists, and Kerry relays. 'I don't need it. You were a child, Kerry. For so long, you were physically— A little girl. I'm a grown man."

"We're the same age," Kerry reminds him. "And maybe— I would have grown up with you if you hadn't—" She stops, feeling Cary's guilt spike again. He doesn't think anything, and she doesn't know what to say.

"Let's talk about how you used to work," Ptonomy says. "Kerry, you've realized that the way you used to work wasn't enough, right?"

"Yeah," Kerry agrees. She tries to figure out how she feels. "Cary's right that— I was just a part of him. I thought I was. And now— I'm not. And it's been— Scary and— It hurt and— At first I just hated everything." She looks at Dvd. "But there's good things, too. And I spent so long inside that— I missed a lot. And I hate that feeling too, but— If nothing had changed, I wouldn't have even known I needed to feel it."

Dvd looks affected by her words. He looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. Kerry wishes she could hear what he was thinking.

"Do you think Cary should have made you stay outside of him?" Ptonomy asks. "Forced you to grow up with him?"

"I dunno," Kerry says. "I mean, things were— Really bad for long time. I didn't want to come out and— Cary wanted me to stay hidden. But that meant— I made him face everything on his own."

'You were always with me,' Cary thinks, insistent. 'Sometimes— You're the only thing that keeps me going.'

Kerry tries to relay that, but she can't. Oliver has to do it for her.

'I suppose— I know how to live for Kerry,' Cary continues, and Oliver relays. 'But I don't know how to— Endure this for myself. And now that— We've been changed—' He pauses. 'I was so worried that— I would die and leave Kerry alone. If we're a system, that's— Impossible, but— She's doing so well now, I'm so proud of— How much she's grown. I know that— She'll have a wonderful life, whatever happens to me. But I can't— This can't be my life.'

Kerry feels Cary's sadness and her own, and she starts to cry. Oliver hands her a tissue.

"You can't leave," Dvd says, finally speaking up. "You have to— Find a way to accept how you were changed, even if it's— Even when it feels like you've lost everything that matters. Because you didn't. Headmates always have each other no matter what. Right?" He looks at where Divad and David are sitting and smiles at them. He turns back to Kerry. "Cary, I— We know how you feel. But you're the one who helped us, who helped David accept our system. You need to accept yours."

'Of course I accept Kerry,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays. 'But being inside her— I feel— Even a prisoner has their own body.'

"It's not always easy being inside," Dvd admits. "You could go to your— Inner world, but— You don't want to leave Kerry alone."

'I don't,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays. 'And I don't want to be— Isolated that way.'

"Maybe Divad can fix your body," Dvd says. "But even if he can, you still need to learn to be inside Kerry. You were hurting your system, staying apart, and you can't hurt your system." He turns, listens, then turns back. "Divad wants to know how it feels to be inside Kerry now. Is it different without your body?"

'It feels very different,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays. 'With my body, I felt— Physically present inside of Kerry, but— Like my body was— Asleep, even though my mind wasn't.'

Dvd listens again. "You said it was uncomfortable?"

'It was,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays. 'It was— Painfully tight and— It felt— I don't know how to describe it, but— That wasn't how we were meant to fit.'

"And now?" Dvd asks. "Without your body?"

Cary hesitates.

Dvd listens again. "Cary, Divad thinks— You're dissociating from Kerry's body. Maybe that's why you can't control it."

"That has potential," Ptonomy says, thoughtful. "Kerry, you dissociated from Cary's body, too, right?"

"I guess," Kerry says. "I mean, I didn't like to think about all the body stuff."

"Divad says that's a pattern," Dvd relays. "He says— Because your powers gave you two bodies, you never had to learn to share. But now you only have one functioning body, so— Try sharing."

"We did," Kerry insists.

"Cary was still dissociating from your body," Ptonomy points out. "Dvd, Divad— When you shared before, Divad was in charge, and he took in Dvd and David's directions, right?"

"Yeah," Dvd says. "But we were present in our body, too. We didn't hang back, not— Unless we had to."

"Hanging back is when you partially dissociate from your body?" Ptonomy asks. Dvd nods. "That sounds a lot like what Kerry and Cary are used to doing."

'But we don't have your powers,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays. 'We can't share together.'

"You don't need powers to share together," Dvd says.

"Both your systems are co-conscious," Ptonomy points out. "And co-fronting is something any DID system is physically capable of. You don't have to share your whole body together. In a co-fronting system, one identity might be, for example, cleaning the dishes, and another identity might reach out to stop a glass from being knocked over. There's also blending and merging. That's when two or more parts of a system temporarily come together and function as one. Though that can be disorienting."

"This is really complicated," Kerry says, warily.

"Then let's keep it simple," Ptonomy suggests. "Like the Davids did yesterday, with the lamp. Kerry, wad up a tissue and hold it in your hand."

Kerry takes a fresh one from Oliver and complies. "Now what?"

"Cary, I want you to focus on the sensation of holding it," Ptonomy says. "The feeling of the tissue against your skin, on the tension of your grip. Accept that this is your hand, your grip."

'I'll try,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays.

"I don't feel any different," Kerry says, after a minute.

"That's okay," Ptonomy says. "Cary, how about you?"

'I'm not sure,' Cary thinks, and Oliver relays.

"This'll take practice," Ptonomy warns. "But let's try the next step. Kerry, keep holding your grip, but lightly. And Cary, see if you can open your hand, let the tissue fall."

'This is my hand,' Cary thinks to himself. 'My body,' he thinks, upset. 'No, focus. Focus on Kerry, on— Our body. Our hand. Open our hand. Open!'

As Cary's thoughts build in strength, Kerry feels a twitch in her hand. Their hand? Yes, their hand. "C'mon Cary," she murmurs, encouraging. "You can do this, I know you can."

'I'm trying,' Cary thinks. Kerry can feel the force of his concentration. There's another twitch, and then another, and then—

Their hand springs open and the tissue falls.

'I did it!' Cary thinks, triumphant.

"We did it!" Kerry says, excited. "Cary, you opened our hand!"

Dvd grins. "All right!"

"Fantastic work," Ptonomy praises. "Cary, how do you feel now?"

'Relieved,' Cary thinks. Kerry relays for him before Oliver can. "Cary's relieved. He definitely feels better."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Ptonomy says. "I want you two to keep practicing. You're a system. This is your system's body. Change how you think about it, how you feel. See if that opens things up."

Kerry feels Cary's mixed feelings about that, but there's less bad than before. 'Okay,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays. 'We'll try.'

Dvd listens, then turns back to Kerry. "David says you two are really inspiring," Dvd relays, pleased. "He says he can't wait to be able to share like you."

Kerry can feel that Cary is— Strangely pleased by that. 'Thank you, David,' Cary thinks, and Kerry relays.

Dvd looks at where Divad is sitting, then looks surprised. "Really? But you said—" He listens. He looks— Upset? Pleased? It's hard to tell.

"What's Divad saying?" Ptonomy asks.

"Um, he says— We could practice sharing, too," Dvd relays. "Not the way we used to, but— The way Kerry and Cary did. The way— We did yesterday, with the lamp." He listens. "Cooperative sharing," he relays. "David can watch, so— It's easier for him when he's ready."

Dvd gives David a meaningful look. David must be pleased by that, because Dvd gets that happy, shy look that he only gets when David smiles at him.

"We can practice together," Kerry says, pleased herself. "System-to-system."

'System-to-system,' Cary thinks, with reluctant acceptance.

Chapter 127: Day 12: The Gateway to Hell. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

Oliver takes a deep whiff from his glass, savors the bright juniper of the gin Lenny brought him. He takes a sip. He remembers the ice cube, the quiet of it, the low, constant crackle of the ice. He remembers loud jazz music. He remembers having forgotten everything.

Another flash of memory hits him. Not from the ice cube or his old life, but— Recent. A drink in his hand and Amahl Farouk at his side, in his head. Travelling in the heat, the baking sun. He takes another sip, another.

He shouldn't rush. He knows when his glass is empty they'll expect him to talk. He doesn't want to talk, but he wants to finish this glass, and then another glass, and then at least several more. And then he'd like to sleep at length and not dream at all, and then wake up and have more gin. If he has to stay in his body, that feels like the most pleasant alternative. Or the least unbearable.

He takes another sip. He listens. The Davids and— The Karies are sitting together, talking, practicing sharing. Oliver's relieved that Cary's feeling better, that all of them are. He prefers happy minds to unhappy ones. Syd is happier, relieved that Cary is better, even though she feels quite guilty about his body. Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy are silent as always, so Oliver listens further.

Farouk, of course, is silent.

While Oliver was focused on relaying, on trying to recall his own memories, he paid little attention to the burble of minds beyond, but there they are— Soldiers and scientists, followers of orders. Some of them — the scientists, mostly — are genuinely eager to help. Others are— Less sympathetic. They see no reason to help a mutant, much less a mad one, but they have their orders. Many of them resent their situation, wish they could change it. And a few—

Oh dear.

Oliver takes another sip of his drink, considers his options. He wonders if he's ever had to deal with this sort of thing before. He probably has. He could ask Cary, but— He's loathe to interrupt. And quite honestly, he's had enough of his own past. Dealing with a crisis of the present is— A refreshing change of pace.

'Ptonomy,' Oliver thinks, calling to the relay link. 'There's a situation you need to be aware of.'

Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny all look over at him. 'What's wrong?' Ptonomy asks.

'Is David okay?' Amy asks.

'David's fine,' Oliver thinks. David's a spectator to the sharing practice, but he's observing with great interest. 'There's a— Problem with a few of the Division 3 soldiers.'

Ptonomy straightens up. 'What kind of problem?'

'One I believe should be addressed— Before it becomes a bigger problem,' Oliver thinks. 'Several soldiers are— Planning to take matters into their own hands.'

'Shit,' Ptonomy sighs. 'How far along?'

'Difficult to say,' Oliver admits. 'But their thoughts are— Determined.'

'Okay,' Ptonomy says, and his expression shows that he's thinking again. 'We need to talk to Clark. Oliver, come with me. Lenny, Amy, you got things here?'

'Aye aye, cap'n' Lenny says, confident.

'We'll be fine,' Amy says.

Ptonomy makes an excuse for them to step out. Cary's reluctant to let Oliver leave without him, partly out of concern for Oliver, but also because he feels better knowing Oliver can hear him. Oliver simply reminds him that he can hear Cary no matter where they go, and that sets Cary at ease.

Oliver wonders if he'll be afraid himself when he's healed. He's not incapable of fear, he thinks, but the whole business seems— Irrelevant. Despite his grief, life and death are irrelevant. He remembers telling that to Farouk. And yet— He feels the urge to— Help. Protect. Perhaps even— To worry. Worry is a kind of fear, he supposes. Concern. Anxiety. Those were all on the emotion wheel they're meant to use.

He looked at it, curious to see what emotions he's currently capable of feeling, and was pleased that he recognized all of them. But they mostly feel— Abstract, distant, as though— His emotions are still there inside him, like his memories, but with a sort of— Glass wall in the way. A wall of ice, perhaps, quite thick but— Beginning to melt away. Passion, rage, tenderness, shame, astonishment, delight— He knows them, but knowing is not feeling.

When I’m in awakeness what do I desire? I desire to fulfill my emotional belly. My whole body, my heart in my fingertips thrill with some old fulfillments.

Some lines of poetry keep coming back to him, again and again. Perhaps they’re not simply tied to memories but to emotions. What emotions resonated so deeply with that poem? Cary gave him a copy of collected works of Ginsberg, hoping it would help. But the full poems are— Complex. Referential. Often full of contradiction and the cruder parts of human nature. Without the context of his own memories, it's hard to say— What particular aspects of them held the most importance.

"Oliver," Ptonomy says, drawing his attention. They've reached Clark's office. Ptonomy doesn't bother to knock. Clark is expecting them.

"Oliver," Clark greets, focused and quietly urgent. "Tell me what you heard. Can you identify them?"

"I'm afraid I don't recognize them," Oliver admits.

"But they're definitely our men?" Clark presses.

"Yes," Oliver says. "Their minds feel— Close. In the building rather than somewhere else. Three men, all very— Aggressive. They're planning to kill us as well as Farouk."

Clark's eyes narrow. "Us meaning—"

"Mutants," Oliver says, plainly. "David, Syd, myself, Cary and Kerry. The Admiral and you, if necessary. And then get things 'back the way they used to be.'"

"Fantastic," Ptonomy mutters. "We have to deal with this now."

"We're dealing with it," Clark says. "Oliver, did you hear what they're planning? Any details?"

"The Choke," Oliver says. Oliver wasn't conscious when the tuning fork was struck in Le Désolé, but he knows how powerful it is. "They plan to set it off, then execute their targets."

Clark relaxes. "Not so urgent after all."

"The Admiral has the Choke," Ptonomy explains. "The Vermillion took it, hid it. No one whose mind can be read knows where it is."

"They know where it is," Oliver points out. "They're planning to steal it tonight."

"They what?" Clark says, eyes widening in alarm.

Ptonomy goes silent, and then: "It's gone. The Choke’s gone."

Clark leans back, rubs his face, angry and frustrated. 'When I find them, I'm going to have those morons boiled alive.' "How?"

Ptonomy looks absolutely livid. "Farouk just teleported to the storage facility and stole it."

"Just now?" Clark asks, astonished.

"Just now," Ptonomy says.

'God I hate telepathy,' Clark thinks. "Well, that's just great. Now what?"

"Now you thank me," Farouk says, suddenly there with them, standing calm and casual by the wall. He has a drink in his hand, but coffee, not gin. "After all, I just saved your lives. Oh, and— Your mutineers have been dealt with." He smirks, and brushes at his suit like he's removing a speck of dust.

Clark and Ptonomy both turn angry and solemn. The thoughts of the three soldiers have gone silent, and Oliver hears— Horror.

"You killed them," Ptonomy says, his fury barely contained. "You turned them to dust."

"And what is the penalty for attempted murder of their commanding officers?" Farouk says, unruffled.

"And the Choke?" Clark challenges.

"There's a volcano in Ethiopia," Farouk says. "Erta Ale, 'The Gateway to Hell.' I thought it a suitable resting place for that monstrosity. Come now. Did you really think I would let you use it a second time?"

It's obvious from Ptonomy and Clark's expressions that they did.

"Secrets are so hard to keep," Farouk says, smirking. "But I do find all this quite amusing. I need my entertainment, after all, now that David is feeling better."

"Torturing him every night isn't enough?" Ptonomy challenges.

Farouk's smirk spreads into a grin. "Would you like to know what we’re doing together? All you have to do is let him remember."

"Never," Ptonomy tells him, certain.

Farouk tuts. "Taking away his memories. It's really sick, what you're doing to him."

"Whatever you're doing to him, David doesn't want it," Ptonomy declares.

"And how will he know if you never let him remember?" Farouk challenges. "When remembering is all he longs for? But you've always enjoyed hurting people for their own good."

"Is your fake moralizing supposed to make us feel bad?" Clark says, unimpressed. "You killed three of my men."

"A just execution," Farouk insists. "And are they not our men? I'm part of Division 3, yes?"

"You're a contractor," Clark says. "Not part of our command structure. Unless you'd like to enlist?"

"And David?" Farouk asks, taking a step closer. "Is David a ‘contractor’? An employee? A prisoner, a slave?"

"I take it you have a preference?" Clark says.

"Lie to him all you want. When the crown comes off—" Farouk shrugs. "What are your titles to a king? À un dieu? Please, let your 'command structure' know that— The Gateway to Hell is open for all their weapons."

Clark doesn't like to show his emotions or even think them, but he can't hide the fear in his eyes. "I'll pass that on," he says, blandly.

"Très bon," Farouk says, and takes a sip of his coffee. He looks directly at Oliver, though his eyes are still hidden behind his sunglasses. "And you? Have we reached your moment of attack? What was your little riddle, one plus one?"

Oliver takes a sip of his gin. "It was."

Farouk gives a knowing chuckle. "And how are you, my friend? Are you enjoying this 'healing'?"

"Not especially," Oliver admits.

"A shame," Farouk says. "I’m quite enjoying mine. Körper und Seele wieder vereint."

Body and soul reunited, Oliver thinks. Has he always known German? He seems to know it now. "Which body?" he asks, curious. "Yours or David's?"

Farouk laughs. "I've missed your sly wit. Do you know, it's said that— Once upon a time, humanity was so strong that the gods trembled in fear. To punish us, they split every human in two, divided us to make us weak. Now we are each half a soul, forever seeking our other half."

"Aristophanes," Ptonomy states. "The Symposium."

Farouk seems pleased by the recognition. "I enjoy David's company, but he has never been— Un savant."

"You should consider talking to Divad," Oliver suggests. "Though I suppose you're more interested in the arts than the sciences?"

Farouk's smile grows more forced. "Tell me, what was it Hephaestus asked the lovers?"

"'Do you desire to be wholly one?'" Ptonomy recites. "'Always day and night to be in one another's company? For if this is what you desire, I am ready to melt you into one.'"

"'That two should become one,'" Farouk continues, longing in his voice. "'One soul instead of two.' Perhaps that is the wholeness we all seek?"

"I'm good with my own soul, thanks," Clark says.

Farouk turns to him. "Then perhaps you should heed the greater lesson: If you are not obedient to the gods, then—" He makes a vertical chopping motion with his free hand. "Though perhaps you would welcome separation from your scarred half."

'Great, he's getting bored,' Clark thinks, with dread.

"Not yet," Farouk says. "But I suggest you remember our arrangement."

"You agreed to let us save him," Ptonomy says, firmly.

"I agreed to let you suffer with him," Farouk corrects. "What was it David said? 'I feel safe'? ‘This is not torture'?" He tuts and shakes his head. "Unfortunate." He sips his coffee.

Clark and Ptonomy look at each other. Oliver doesn't hear anything, but some message seems to be conveyed and received.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "How about David's possession trauma? We work on that, you'll get your suffering."

"'Possession trauma,'" Farouk mocks, amused. "Yes, that will do. I'll be watching." And then he's gone. Back to his room, presumably, to sit and watch and drink his coffee.

"Jesus," Clark mutters, shaken.

Ptonomy doesn't say anything, but he looks intensely determined.

"Okay," Clark says, gathering himself again. "Damage control. We need to figure out how those soldiers found the Choke. Do we know who they are?"

Ptonomy's eyes go distant. "Got it," he says. "Sending it over."

Clark goes still. "Damn it. If they'd just—" He shakes his head.

"The Admiral is working on the Choke," Ptonomy reports. "Someone human must have seen it, spread the word."

"A lot of people aren't happy about our arrangement," Clark admits.

"I know," Ptonomy sighs. "Cary's right, there's— Too much institutional momentum here."

"Nothing's gonna change if no one makes it change," Clark reminds him.

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?" Ptonomy counters.

Clark shrugs. "The one positive to come out of this is breathing space. Some very powerful people were getting— Impatient."

"We're in the middle of a city."

"Acceptable losses," Clark admits.

"They do know he's indestructible, right?"

"You know the type. Bomb first, ask questions later."

"Fantastic," Ptonomy mutters. "The models still say David is the only way we get out of this."

"Can you share those models?"

Ptonomy just gives him a look.

"I know," Clark says. "But I don't have to be a mind reader to know what they're thinking."

"Mutants protecting mutants?"

"What else do you expect from humans who only want to protect humans?" Clark asks. "They need proof."

"We can't afford to give it," Ptonomy says.

"Well, Farouk just saved our lives twice," Clark says, dryly. "Not that I'm feeling especially grateful. But keeping secrets from him is putting us at risk from everyone else."

"Will those deaths keep your men in line, or will it make more trouble?"

"I'll try to make it the former," Clark says. "But the longer this takes, the more trigger-happy everyone's gonna get. The world’s putting a hell of a lot of trust in you, Wallace. Don't let us down."

Somehow this amuses Ptonomy. "I guess now's not the best time to talk about that promotion?"

"If you pull this off, trust me, it's not gonna be a problem," Clark says. "Though it'll be hard to explain that the guy who came up with the idea is now trapped in the body of a nineteen year old girl."

"We're working on it," Ptonomy sighs. "And if this is the new normal— It's not the weirdest thing the world will have to accept. What about David’s status? We need that done.”

“Legal’s cranky,” Clark says. “Apparently DID officially makes David non compos mentis. It was suggested that we transfer Amy’s power of attorney to us.”

“I don’t need the Admiral’s help to know that’s a bad idea,” Ptonomy warns.

“I know,” Clark says, showing his palms in surrender. “I told them.”

“What about the Karies?”

“I’m not sure if that revelation makes things easier or harder,” Clark admits. “Look, this diagnosis has been used to justify insanity defenses. The pushback is that David should be put somewhere quiet and green.”

“With the crown permanently fused to his skull?” Ptonomy says, annoyed. “Bombs aren’t going to solve this. Trying to play this their way is going to end the world.”

“The Division heads aren’t used to being kept in the dark,” Clark says. “It’s making them cranky.”

“Are you running a military organization or a daycare?”

Clark gives an acknowledging nod. “A question I ask myself every day. We both have work to do. You go start some fires, I’ll put some out.”

Oliver follows Ptonomy into the hall. When they reach the elevator, Ptonomy turns to him. “Oliver, I'm sorry, but— Our conversation will have to wait."

"What a shame," Oliver says, dryly. He takes another sip— And realizes all the gin is gone. Tragic. "Could I get another?"

"Not right now," Ptonomy says. "We're going to need your help again. We can't afford to miss anything the Davids think. Can you handle it?"

"As long as there's gin later, yes," Oliver decides. He could always pop out and get a refill himself when things are calmer. He’s never had any trouble getting a drink when he wants one. That much he definitely remembers.

“Your plan,” Ptonomy says. “One plus one. What was that about?”

“Should I say it?” Oliver asks.

“Farouk couldn’t hear your thoughts before? When he was inside you?”

“No.”

“Then send it into the mainframe,” Ptonomy says. “I don’t know if it’ll do us much good, but we need all the help we can get.”

Chapter 128: Day 12: There's never going to be another Benny. (David)

Chapter Text

Back in Clockworks, David liked to watch the other patients. He saw them having treatments and sessions, and sometimes he’d get to watch them leave. But looking back— There was never any real sense that anyone was actually getting better.

David only really realizes that now, because he can see everyone getting better. He sees Lenny and Syd comfortably sitting together, working on their notebooks and their touch therapy. He sees Cary and Kerry learning how to share their body, and Divad and Dvd jostling like unruly brothers as they learn a new way of sharing. He sees Amy's pride as she watches over them, calm after the grieving he shared with her. And most surprising of all is what he sees in himself.

He's been writing in his mental notebook, thinking about everything that's brought them to this moment, and doing that helps him feel— Good. In control. He knows he has a lot of difficult work ahead of him but it all feels— Manageable. He knows he won't have to face any of it alone, that he has people who love him and will help him through. And he has a system that will always be there for him, like it always has.

He's always felt so alone. But that was just one of Farouk's delusions, one of the parasites that tried to eat him alive. And now David feels like— That delusion has been plucked out of his head and crushed under a shoe. He's not alone, he's never been alone, he'll never be alone. He's loved and there's no shame in love.

He remembers— Lenny told him to change his story. That Farouk doesn't get to choose who David is, David does. That no matter what Farouk did to him and his system, they never stopping fighting, never stopped trying to get help. They never belonged to Farouk and they never will.

It's still a lot to believe, all those new ideas. But he thinks he's starting to believe them.

He looks at the paper with his Syd work. He thinks he's ready to show it to her, to talk to her about it. To start the work of fixing their relationship together. Not having the relay for a while made him realize— It's not that he wants her to hear his thoughts. He just wants to be able to trust her again. He wants to share his new life with her. He wants to be able to sit with her and his headmates and have all of them able to talk to each other, in all the ways that means.

So he crossed off 'Share relay with Syd' and replaced it with 'Trust Syd again' and 'Be friends with Syd as a system.'

He wants to be able to show her that. He will, once it's his turn in their body again. It's hard to wait, cut off from the world as a mental projection. But when he's inside, he needs to focus on— Inside things. System things. He thinks— He understands Kerry better now, and Dvd. He might even understand— The David he used to be. Even without his memories. Because— He's the same David. He's changed, he's grown, but he's the same. He makes the same kinds of choices, loves the same kinds of people, feels the same kinds of feelings. Whatever it is that makes him who he is— Has always made him who he is.

Would he have been that David without Farouk? If he'd been kept safe, if he'd grown up healthy and happy? Who would he have been if— If he'd never become a system? If the three of them— Fused— Would they become that David?

There's no way to answer that. But maybe that's okay. What he has now matters more to him than some fantasy of a life without pain.

He doesn't have to be normal. He can just be— What he is. And his friends and his family and his headmates— They won't love him any less for that. Because they're complicated people, too, and— It's okay to be complicated. He can be complicated and still be a person, still deserve— What everyone else has. Love, compassion. A home.

He writes that down. It feels important.

He sets aside his pen and watches some more, enjoying this— New contentment. And then Ptonomy and Oliver come back, and Ptonomy looks— Alarmingly serious. He tells Syd and Lenny to join them as he heads for the sitting area. Dvd steps out, leaving Divad in their body, and sits between him and the Karies. Ptonomy and Oliver take their usual loveseat. Syd and Lenny take the beanbag chairs.

"There's been a development," Ptonomy tells them. "And I think it's time we all got on the same page. David, would you might switching with Divad? I'd like you to be embodied for this."

Well. That doesn't sound good. Divad goes to sit next to Amy, and David steps into their body.

"First of all, I've asked Oliver to start relaying to the mainframe again," Ptonomy says. "So David, I did hear the progress you just made. That was solid work, and I'm glad you wrote it down because we're going to need it."

"What's going on?" David asks, increasingly worried.

"Farouk," Ptonomy says.

"What now?" David asks, dreading the answer.

"Let's start from the beginning," Ptonomy says. "David, when all this started— Division 3 made a deal. Farouk agreed to help us contain you so you wouldn't end the world." When David starts to protest, Ptonomy puts up a hand. "I know. But you need to hear this. Once we actually started your therapy, we realized our mistake. So we decided to find a way to kill him ourselves."

"Did you?" David asks, hopeful.

"We made plans," Ptonomy says. "But when he isn't watching you or torturing you in your dreams, Farouk's doing everything he can to stop us, to sabotage those plans. The only thing he hasn't interfered with is your therapy. And to get that—" He hesitates. "Farouk interpreted our agreement as— Therapy as torture. And that was fine as long as you felt— Helpless and in pain. But as of today— You don't feel that therapy is torture anymore."

"Oh," David says, realizing. It's awful but it makes sense. "So what do we do? Take the crown off, or—"

"Do you feel ready to face him?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't know," David admits. He thinks about his to-do list. "I guess we haven't— Made much progress on my— Possession trauma."

"Not as much as we need to," Ptonomy agrees. "Oliver and I just spoke with Farouk. He's agreed to let us work on that because he knows it'll be painful for you. But this arrangement isn't going to last much longer. Whatever Farouk is planning, we think he's going to move soon. So we have to get you as ready as possible. And not just you but your whole system, and the relationships your system has with us."

David looks at Divad and Dvd. They both look determined.

"If the relay's back, why can't Cary and I hear it?" Kerry asks.

"Because we're going to do things a little differently," Ptonomy says. "When any of the Davids step out, they become mental projections. So with Oliver's help, we can do for them the same thing he did for Cary. Oliver?"

Oliver closes his eyes, concentrates, and then—

Everyone but the Davids startles, stares in amazement.

"Holy shit," Lenny says, and grins. "Triple trouble."

"Everything will look the same to the three of you," Ptonomy tells the Davids. "But now your mental projections are visible— And audible."

"They can hear us?" Dvd asks. 'But they can't hear our thoughts, right?'

"The mainframe can still hear your thoughts," Amy explains. "But the whole world can see you and hear your voices."

"You're see-through, like Cary was," Kerry says, fascinated.

"Hey," Divad says, waving to everyone. 'They can see me,' he thinks. 'This is amazing.' "Thanks, Oliver."

"Yeah, thanks," Dvd says. He smiles at Kerry and she smiles back.

David sees Syd staring at the three of them, wide-eyed. But she doesn't say anything.

"Divad," Amy says, looking at him and Dvd with feeling. She reaches for Divad but her hand goes through him.

"Hey, Green and Yellow," Kerry realizes, pointing at their shirts. "You guys are still color coded?"

"That's the outfit David was wearing in the desert," Lenny realizes. "You haven't changed for what, two weeks?"

"We're mental projections, what's it matter?" Dvd defends. "You wore the same outfit for months," he tells Kerry. "And those were real clothes!"

"They were always clean when I stepped out," Kerry defends.

"This takes work for Oliver to sustain," Ptonomy warns. "He's doing this on top of the relay."

"Why do we need the relay if everyone can hear us?" Dvd asks, suspicious.

"Because I need to hear your thoughts for your therapy," Ptonomy says. "And your therapy is how we're going to stop Farouk."

"Okay, fine," Dvd sighs. 'But I don't have to like it.'

"What about my thoughts?" Syd asks.

"Oliver?" Ptonomy asks.

Oliver shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, that's too much on top of everything else," Ptonomy says. "But if you need a telepathic session, we'll make that the priority."

Syd gives a frustrated little huff but nods. She looks at David, at Dvd, at Divad. David thinks— She's taking them in. To be fair, it's a lot to take in.

'David, you wanted us to talk to her together?' Divad thinks to him.

David wonders if it's too soon.

'Hey, Ptonomy,' Divad thinks. 'Can we have some Syd time?'

'Of course,' Ptonomy says through the relay. 'David, it's up to you. How do you want to handle this?'

David thinks about his to-do list. He wants to work with Syd and he wants her to talk to all three of them at once. He wasn't expecting it to be right now, but— The possession work will be rough. That's why Farouk's letting them do it, because— It'll be torture. Or at least— Upsetting enough to satisfy the sadist who used to live inside him.

That thought alone is enough to make the decision. "Um, Syd," David starts.

"Yes?" Syd asks, quietly eager.

David softens. "Can we— Talk? About what happened? With— My headmates?"

Syd looks to Ptonomy.

"Do you need my help?" Ptonomy asks David.

"I think I need to do this myself," David decides. "But everyone can stay. Um." He looks for his physical notebook, takes the paper out of the back. Is he ready for this? He has to be. They're running out of time.

He looks at the paper and reads it again. It's a lot. Where should he start?

'Oh, I know where we should start,' Dvd thinks, darkly.

'Dvd,' Divad warns. "How about— Start with your goals?" he offers David.

"My goals," David echoes. Right. That's a good idea, thank you. "Syd, I want to— Address what went wrong. I want us to be able to— Forgive each other and ourselves. I want to be able to trust you again."

Syd nods, taking that in. "You don't trust me now?" she asks.

"No," David admits. He meets her eyes, then looks down at the paper. "You and— Future You and— The things you did because of Farouk—" He pauses, struggling. "To be honest I haven't really processed any of this."

"It's okay," Syd says, gently.

David concentrates, thinking back to his session with Ptonomy. About— Syd leaving him in the desert. Choosing Farouk over him. "You chose Farouk over me," he says, finally. "Even before the desert." He stops, breathes. "I never wanted to help that monster, but you made me. And when I needed you, you took his side again and again and—" His throat is tight but he keeps going. "Every you took his side. And I don't— How can I trust you if that's what you are?"

No one say anything. Syd stares at David, taken aback.

"Is that what you think?" Syd asks. "That I took his side?"

David nods.

"David," Syd says, immediately frustrated. "I didn't take his side. I took— The side of saving the world. The side of everyone not dying. I took my side."

"If we were ever going to end the world," Dvd says, angrily, "it was because of Farouk. You taking his side is what made all this bullshit happen!"

“You’re upset,” Syd says, deliberately calm.

“Of course we’re upset!” Dvd says. “You used us and lied to us and then you tried to kill us! You don’t love us, you never loved us.”

“No,” David insists. “She loved us. Loves us. It was just— After Farouk messed with her head.”

Dvd scoffs. “I’ll tell you when she stopped loving us. It was when we got back and we didn’t do what she said.”

“Then you admit she loved us!” David says.

“I admit Syd only loved us as long as we rolled over and gave her everything she wanted,” Dvd declares. “I bet Farouk didn’t have to do anything to her to make her shoot us. She—“

“Dvd,” Divad says, firmly. “Your paranoid delusions are not helping.”

“Are you seriously calling me delusional?” Dvd says, outraged. “She shot us!”

“Okay, time out,” Ptonomy says. “Obviously everyone has strong feelings about what happened. But accusations and name-calling are not going to get us through this.”

Dvd crosses his arms and scowls. Divad looks exasperated. Syd is closed-off and hurt. David feels like all their progress just vanished. God, how are they going to stop Farouk when they can’t even have a conversation?

“David,” Ptonomy says. “It’s okay. This isn’t a setback, it’s just the process.”

“You upset him,” Divad chides Dvd.

“I’m protecting him!” Dvd insists. “What, are you on her side now? Maybe you should go be a system with her.”

“You’re angry at Syd, we get it,” Divad says, tersely. “But what do you thinks gonna happen? Do you think Farouk’s gonna ignore that? You wanna actually protect David? Then get over yourself and help us fix our relationships so Farouk can’t use them against us again!

Dvd scowls but he doesn’t argue.

“Sorry about that,” Divad says, calming.

“It’s okay,” Ptonomy says. “David? Syd? How are you doing?”

David gives a small whimper. He forces himself to look at Syd. She’s definitely not happy. He hates it when she’s upset. He hates it when anyone’s upset but Syd—

“Syd?” Ptonomy prompts.

“This is awful,” Syd admits, tightly.

“I know it’s hard,” Ptonomy says, understanding. “But the the first steps are always the hardest. Let’s see if we can make a little more progress.”

Syd gives a short nod.

“Divad, how do you feel about Syd?” Ptonomy asks.

“Me?” Divad asks, surprised. He shifts, thinks. “Look, I’m angry with her, too.”

“Ha!” Dvd cries.

But,” Divad continues, forcefully. “I know that she regrets her part in what happened. I know she’s trying very hard to change so she doesn’t make the same mistakes, just like we are. She’s been here for us even though we hurt her and she deserves our support.”

Syd’s tension visibly eases. She gives Divad the tiniest smile. He musters a small smile back. Dvd glares at both of them.

“Dvd?” Ptonomy says. “You have something to say?”

“Divad’s only forgiving her because he’s just as guilty as her,” Dvd declares.

“Is that a bad thing?” Ptonomy asks him.

Dvd falters, then rallies. “Of course it’s a bad thing. They’re in on it together.”

“‘It’ being?” Ptonomy prompts. “Forgiveness?”

Dvd scowls.

“Everyone here has made mistakes,” Ptonomy tells him. “Some of them very serious. And you know you’re not exempt from that, Dvd. You absolutely know it. Don’t you want forgiveness, too? From David?”

That finally puts a crack in Dvd’s defenses. But he doesn’t reply.

“Dvd?” Ptonomy prompts. “Do you want David to forgive you?”

“Yeah,” Dvd mutters.

“Then you need to work on your forgiveness for others,” Ptonomy says. “For Divad and for Syd. Okay?”

Dvd grunts what could charitably be called a yes.

"Everyone here has the right to feel what they feel," Ptonomy tells them. "But remember why we're doing this. Farouk is watching this right now. All we are is entertainment to him. We're things, toys to be played with. He wants us to stay angry with each other to make it easy for him to use us. But we don't want to be used. Right?"

There's a general murmur of 'no's.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "David. Do you really think that Syd wanted to choose Farouk over you? Or do you recognize that she was trying to do what was best for the world?"

David struggles with that. "Um. Yeah, I guess— She was trying to save the world," he manages.

"Do you believe what Future Syd claimed was true?" Ptonomy asks him. "Do you think, in the original timeline, you ended the world?"

David hugs himself. "I don't— How can I answer that?" he asks, genuinely. "I couldn't read her mind, I couldn't— I believed her, I trusted her. But— I don't want to end the world! I never wanted to hurt anyone! I got put on trial for— Something I never did! And she stood there and—" he cuts himself off.

"You have a lot of anger about your intervention," Ptonomy says.

"Yes," David says, firmly. "That whole thing was a joke. It was Farouk ruining my life and gloating about it."

"The intervention wasn't just about Future Syd's claim," Ptonomy reminds him. "It was also about your actions in the past."

"Yeah," David says, angrily. "Yeah, I screwed up. I shouldn't have wiped Syd's memories, and I should have left her alone that night. I get that. But you've got this all-seeing, all-knowing mainframe and did you bother to rewind a few minutes? To see what happened before I tried to undo what Farouk did to us? No, you were all afraid of me and you were so happy to jump at the chance to finally lock me up and—" He cuts himself off, angry and upset and fighting tears.

"You're right," Ptonomy says, after a pause. "We didn't bother to rewind. We didn't question what we were shown, from the past or the future. We were told a story about you and we just accepted it. We didn't trust you or treat you as a friend. The way we behaved was cruel and unfair. I'm sorry, David. I truly am."

"I'm sorry, too," Syd says, solemnly.

"Me and Cary are really sorry," Kerry says.

"And I apologize on behalf of the Admiral and Division 3," Ptonomy adds.

David struggles with his feelings. He's been refusing this anger for so long, drowning it in guilt and anger at his own mistakes. But he was furious at the trial and he feels it all again now. He just wants to be angry. He wants to be furious and— And hurt everyone who's ever hurt him.

And that's what makes him stop. Remembering that feeling, the pure ecstatic white-hot bliss of justified rage. It's not a feeling he likes, after the fact. It makes him sick. But for a few delirious hours, it was everything.

And that rage, and all his powers—

He could absolutely end the world. If he was angry enough, pushed far enough, and there was nothing to stop him. He could end the world. And that's—

Cold, hard reality.

"Shit," he mutters. He leans forward and rests his face in his hands.

And that's why everyone is afraid of him. Even Syd. She was so afraid of him in the desert when she raised that gun. She was eager to shoot him because she was afraid. Is she still afraid? Are they all still afraid? Maybe the only reason they're all so kind to him now is the crown. Because he's a helpless victim and not— A rabid monster they have to put down.

After he saves them, if he can save them— Will they all be afraid of him again? How's he supposed to— How can he live with that? He has so much power and all he wants to do is help but— That's what makes him a monster?

"David," Ptonomy says, concerned. "What you're worried about— It's not true."

"Don't," David warns, raising his head. Hot tears run down his face. "Don't lie to me." He gives a bitter smile. "We didn't even get to the possession trauma and Farouk's already getting what he wants." He always does.

"You want the truth, David?" Ptonomy asks. "The truth is that yes, people are afraid of you. When you get the crown off, you're going to hear that. But that power you have, your determination to help— That's what got us here. That's what stopped the war and it's going to help us do a hell of a lot more if we can just get through this. And that's the thing about power, David. Any power, not just mutants. Power's a big responsibility. It cuts both ways, and the more of it you have, the scarier it can be. But the answer isn't to give up, it's to use our power as wisely as we can, to act with respect and care. And you are capable of that, I know you are. I know that's what you want your legacy to the world to be. Not destruction."

His legacy? David lived his life expecting his death to bring— Nothing but relief to the few people around him who even cared. All he ever remembered being was a failure, a disappointment, a disaster who dragged everyone else down with him. He remembers— Knowing it was the right choice, when he hanged himself. That Philly and Amy and Lenny— Benny would be sad and then— Move on. He's always known that everyone else would be better off without him.

"Fuck that," Dvd declares, and David turns to see he's crying, too. "You wanna talk delusions? That's the shit beetle's delusion and you are not allowed to let it eat you alive."

"Dvd's right," Divad says. "When you think like that, what does it do? It makes it easy for Farouk. It makes you hurt yourself and your system. It stops you from feeling all the good things you have."

"Cary wants to talk," Kerry says. "He says— He knows what it's like to feel despair. To be terrified of— The potential of your abilities as well as— The potential of failure. Ptonomy's right, you have— So much power, more than we can truly conceive. But despite all you've suffered, you've always held enough compassion to equal that power. You are a good man, David. Don't let the pain win. The world needs you. And more importantly— You're my friend and I don't want to lose you. I'm so sorry for how we treated you. I let my fear win. But I've always been a coward." Kerry frowns. "Cary, you're not a coward. It's okay to be scared when things are scary. That's what we're supposed to feel! And all the stuff that happened— It was really scary. That's why Farouk did it, right? To mess us up. He shoved us down, but we're all getting back up so we can kick his ass, right?" She looks directly at David. "Right?"

"Um. Right?" David echoes, helplessly. It's really hard to say no to Kerry when she gets like that.

He sits back, shaky. It's been a while since— He felt like he had to be pulled back from a cliff. He still doesn't feel steady. But the despair isn't— All-consuming.

"David, what you're feeling," Ptonomy says. "It's healthy to be afraid. You feel that because you don't want to hurt anyone. That rage you're afraid of? You don't feel that rage when you're in control. But Farouk can make us do things we don't want to do. That's why we have to stop him. For you to truly have control over your own life, to stop him from pushing you until you break— We have to stop him."

"I know," David says, tiredly. "It just feels— Impossible, sometimes."

"It's very possible," Ptonomy assures him. "You're already doing it. You've come so far, David. We've all come a long way. And none of us are facing this alone."

David knows that. He knows he's not alone. He felt it so strongly, and— It's still there, the feeling. The certainty. He got turned around but he didn't lose it. He looks around at his friends, his family, his headmates.

He looks at Syd.

"Syd," David tries, needing to— Reach something. "I know you were— Trying to save the world. Maybe you were right and— I really did kill everyone." He pauses as the horror of that grazes him. "If I had to chose between— My own death and— Everyone else— Of course you made the right decision."

Dvd gives an outraged squeak, but doesn't say anything.

"Whatever I became, in that timeline," David continues. "I don't want that. So I guess— I do trust you to save me from— That. But." He looks down, sees the paper. "I guess I thought— You believed in me. But you didn't. You didn't trust me, you didn't— It was all just—" He shakes his head. "I still don't understand why you did any of it. You from the future. Why you— Tricked me and— Let Amy die and— Why you couldn't have just— Helped me, the way I'm being helped now. Why didn't you help me?"

Syd seems at a loss. "I'm not her."

"But you are," David insists. "You're the same person. And you— You agreed with her! Maybe you didn't take Farouk's side, but you took hers. Amy died and— You didn't care, neither of you cared!"

"Of course I cared," Syd insists.

"No secrets," David says, his anger creeping back. "Why do you keep pretending I couldn't hear everything you thought?"

Syd has the honesty to look guilty. "Because I was trying to ignore the fact that you could hear my thoughts," she says, calmly. "Because that terrified me. It still does. I can't— Protect myself the way I always have. Not with you."

"I never wanted to hurt you," David says, pleading for her to understand.

"I know," Syd says. "But I knew you could. Not just because of your powers. Because we loved each other. And to be honest— That's what scared me the most. So I had to hurt you before you hurt me."

"That's awful," David says, recoiling.

"I'm not a very nice person," Syd admits. "You're right. I didn't care about Amy or Lenny. I thought you were the only person I could ever have, so I didn't want you to have anyone but me. And Dvd's right. I didn't want you to have any choices. I was afraid that if you did, you'd choose to leave me."

"Syd, that's— Insane," David says, at a loss.

"It's BPD," Syd admits. "And a fucked-up childhood. I'm— Trying to be better. To trust people, to— Allow myself to be loved. To not— Need to always be in control. But it's as hard for me as— Not hurting yourself is hard for you. And maybe that means— We shouldn't be together. I don't want to hurt you, David. I don't want us to hurt each other."

"So you're just— Giving up?" David asks, disbelieving.

"I don't want to be used by that monster," Syd says, certain. "I don't want him to hurt you again. And I don't want to lose you.”

"Then don't," David says. "Syd, I— I love you."

"And I love you," Syd says, plainly. "But love isn't enough. I don't want to be another Benny, David. I can't be that."

David doesn't know what to say. He just feels— Confused and frustrated and hurt and— He feels like he's losing Syd all over again. Even though he was so angry with her before—

"There's never going to be another Benny," Divad says, with absolute certainty. "The only reason that happened was because of Farouk, because David didn't have me and Dvd. Benny was just— Farouk's way of having David in every way he could."

"I don't want to be like Farouk either," Syd insists.

"Then stop thinking you know what's best for David," Divad tells her. "If David says he loves you and wants to be with you, then believe him. Do the work and give it a real chance. Do you think Dvd will just let you hurt David?"

"Never," Dvd declares.

"Maybe you are afraid for David," Divad continues. "But I think the truth is you're afraid for yourself. You're afraid loving David, trusting him, will get you hurt. And you'd rather risk whatever Farouk will do to you than be genuinely vulnerable with the man you love."

To David's astonishment, Divad's words hit home. Syd stares at him, speechless.

"David's working on his NOs," Divad tells her. "And if he has any trouble, we'll back him up. So what's it gonna be, Barrett? You chicken?" He makes clucking sounds, mocking her.

"Chicken," Dvd smirks.

"Are you— Are you daring me to work things out with David?" Syd asks, surprised.

"I'd like to see you try," Dvd says, menacingly.

And again, to David's astonishment— It's what Syd needed to hear. She relaxes— Not a lot, but enough. She looks at Divad and Dvd with— Relief? Gratitude? What?

"Okay," Syd says, calm and— Suddenly determined.

"What the hell just happened?" David asks, completely at a loss.

"We got your girlfriend back," Dvd says, proudly.

Chapter 129: Day 12: You got the best of both worlds. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"Dvd, move out of the way," Kerry says. "Me and Cary gotta hug David."

Dvd obligingly moves, and stands with his legs through the coffee table as the Karies give David a huge hug, which David gratefully returns.

Syd feels a familiar spike of jealousy. It hurts seeing David turn to everyone for comfort but her. It hurts seeing something she can't have. The only people who can safely touch her are dead. What does that make her?

"Hey." Syd looks up and sees Amy giving her a smile. Syd looks away, ashamed of what she just admitted. She didn't care when Amy died. She was even a little glad. It meant she had more of David all to herself— Or that's what she wanted it to mean.

Amy gets up, walks over. She rests her hand on Syd's shoulder. Syd instinctively flinches away, but Amy's hand follows her. Stays. Syd feels a little bit calmer.

She looks up to see Dvd looking down at her, somewhere between curious and judging. She looks over at Divad. He's looking at David and the Karies with a soft, relieved expression. Then he looks over at Dvd, at Syd.

Syd wanted to be able to see all the Davids at once. And boy, she's got them. She feels like Dvd and Divad can see right through her. It's funny because they're the ones who are transparent.

"Let's take a break," Ptonomy tells them. "Karies, you feel like a trip to the cafeteria? You two can choose our lunch."

"This whole eating thing just never stops," Kerry says, exasperated. David huffs a laugh, amused, and that makes Kerry happy, too. She pulls David into another hug. "We'll be right back, okay?"

"I think I've got enough people looking after me," David says, wryly.

Kerry gives everyone a look that says they'd better do just that, then she joins Ptonomy and they leave the lab.

David slumps back on the sofa, looking wrung out.

"That was a rough one," Lenny says, sympathetic.

"It'll get rougher," David sighs. But then he gets a determined look.

Whatever he's thinking, it makes everyone else get a determined look, too. Syd realizes that with the Karies gone, she's the only one who can't hear David's thoughts. Again.

"Hey, that legacy thing," Lenny tells David. "Maybe that's something for your wish list. You need something long-term, right?"

"Um, yeah," David says. He glances over at Divad. "But I'm not sure what that actually means."

"It means what you leave behind," Divad says. "You can be like the shit beetle, ruining everyone's lives. Or you can be like Cary."

"The new Summerland thing, right?" Dvd says.

"Division 4," Divad says. "But that can't be the official name. The Divisions are a secret organization."

"Yeah, that's gonna last," Dvd scoffs. "World fulla telepaths? Talk about a delusion." He walks out of the coffee table and sits down next to Divad. He slumps, mirroring David.

"Cary wants all of us to be part of it," Divad says. "He thinks we can really help people there. Do a lot of good. How's that for a legacy?"

"Sounds nice," David says, a little wistful. His eyes unfocus, and when they focus again— He looks at Syd. He keeps looking at her, not challenging or inspecting, just— Looking at her. And then all the Davids are looking at her.

"You guys remember I can see you, right?" Syd says.

Dvd and Divad falter, and David turns to look at them. "This may take some getting used to," Divad admits.

"Is that what you've been doing?" Syd asks. "Staring at people when they can't see you?"

"Got a problem with that?" Dvd challenges.

Syd shrugs. "If you want to talk— We can just talk," she offers.

"We already talked," Dvd says. "You want to talk more?" He gives an exasperated huff.

Amy laughs behind her hand. "Sorry, it's just— You and Kerry are so alike."

"Of course we are," Dvd says, proudly. "We're practically headmates."

"I think it's a good idea," Divad says. "Talking. Not— Session work, but just— All of us being together now that we can."

Divad gives Dvd a nudge. Dvd rolls his eyes.

Amy lets go of Syd and takes the seat next to Oliver. "Oliver, you holding up okay?"

"Fine, thank you," Oliver says. "Though I could use a drink."

"Tell me about it," Lenny sighs.

Syd feels the same. Especially when she realizes David is staring at her again. "David?" she prompts. He's been avoiding looking at her so much. And now he's staring.

"Sorry," David says, and rubs his face. He looks at the sofa and realizes he has it to himself. "Is it okay if I lie down? I'm just—"

Amy gets up and motions for David to scoot over. She sits at the end and gestures again, and David lies down with his head on her lap, careful of the crown. He's lying on his side and he closes his eyes, opens them halfway, and looks at Syd again. Syd realizes he doesn't have the energy for much, but— He wants to stay with her.

Some knot of tension in her relaxes.

"Everything's okay," Amy soothes, gently stroking his neck, his shoulder. David's eyes close a little more, but not all the way.

Syd gives him a small smile, and the corner of David's mouth twitches up.

It's strange, she thinks, that they can all be so relaxed even though Farouk just threatened them. But he's been watching all this time. It feels like— The lab is their territory, not his. He's never invaded this space, even though he obviously could. She wonders again what he's planning. She thinks about Kerry making sure they're protecting David. She thinks they all feel the same way.

She realizes she's not the only one watching David. Dvd and Divad and Lenny are all staring, and David must be tired to not notice that. The stroke of Amy's hand lulls him, and in no time at all, his eyes close and his breathing evens out.

"Shit," Dvd says, suddenly. "His dreams—"

"I got it," Divad says. "I'm not making him sleep, but if he goes into REM I'll keep him out until it's over."

Dvd slumps back, relieved. "I want him dead," he declares. "I want him gone. I want him obliterated. I want every one of his atoms erased from existence."

"Big talker," Lenny teases.

"I'll do it," Dvd promises. "When we get that crown off and we can finally go after that asshole, he's done."

"When Dvd's not staring at people or pining over David, he's usually planning Farouk's death," Divad explains.

"And what do you do?" Syd asks.

"Oh, I think too much," Divad admits. "Kind of a— Hamster wheel situation. It helps to have something to do. A problem to solve."

"Like we're short on problems," Dvd says.

Divad gives a resigned shrug. "What do you like to do? When things are quiet?"

"Usually?" Syd says. "Read. Sit alone and drink. Make myself miserable." Just like Mom.

"Fun hobby," Lenny says. "I don't do quiet. Problem solved."

“I’ve always found it soothing,” Amy says. “Not that I ever had enough time. I was always so busy until— Ben and I were moved.” She stops as grief creases her face, but she focuses on David and recovers. “I had a garden. Rows of sunflowers.”

“David loves gardens, too,” Syd says, though of course all of them know that. “New Summerland should have a garden.”

“That’s a lovely idea,” Amy says, pleased. “And gardens are very therapeutic, I’m sure it would help a lot of people.”

“Ame’s been making plans,” Lenny says.

“I suppose I’m like you, Divad,” Amy says. “I like to keep busy. And with Cary’s difficulties— I’ve been researching mental health facilities, the best ones in the world. Learning what they do that others don’t. I— Missed the signs with Clockworks.”

She gives Divad and Dvd and apologetic look. Divad accepts it, but Dvd—

Amy looks sad at the rejection. She looks down at David and strokes his cheek.

Divad glares at Dvd, and Syd is fairly sure they’re starting one of their private conversations. And then they remember that it’s not private.

Divad sighs in frustration. “Dvd,” he says aloud. “David and I both forgave Amy. I know you want to. So just do it already.”

"Don't tell me what to do," Dvd says, stubborn.

"What do you think's gonna happen?" Divad says. "She's giving up her power of attorney. She's not in charge of us anymore. It's safe to forgive her."

"People lie all the time," Dvd says. "Amy lied to us all the time. If we could hear her thoughts, then we'd know what she really thinks."

"So you're just gonna hold on to all your grudges until we get the crown off?" Divad asks.

"They need us to stop the shit beetle," Dvd says. "They have to take off the crown or we can't do that. That's when we'll know."

"And what if that's too late?" Divad presses. "Farouk won't have to wait for that. God knows what he's already doing to us when we're sleeping with David." He shudders and Dvd grimaces.

"Guy's gotta point," Lenny says. "You're making it easy for that asshole."

"The shit beetle doesn't just use bad things to torture us," Dvd says, annoyed. "He uses love and trust. I'm not gonna leave us wide open."

"That's true," Syd admits. Dvd seems annoyed to have her agreeing with him, so she continues. "Farouk uses every part of the cow, right? And it's healthy to— Remember when you were hurt, so you can be careful."

"Exactly," Dvd says. "That's my job. If I don’t remember all the bad stuff that happened to David, I can't stop it from happening again."

"I thought you didn't have jobs," Lenny says. "You're all just headmates, right?"

Dvd huffs, annoyed. "Divad still lectures everyone. And David still—" He falters.

"What was David's job again?" Syd asks, even though she knows the answer.

When Dvd doesn't answer, Divad does. "Suffering. David's job was to suffer."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have jobs anymore," Amy says, looking directly at Dvd.

Dvd glares back at her, but it's half-hearted.

"I don't want you to forget, Dvd," Amy says. "Not forgetting what I did is very important to me. It's motivating me to be a better sister, a better person. To stop what happened from happening again. Not just to your system, but to other people. I don't want my legacy to be— Ignoring the truth because it was painful, because— It wasn't convenient. But I am trying to forgive, because that pain— It's in the way of what I really want. And what I want is to have my family back. To be happy with them. With you."

"I want that, too," Divad says, affected.

"What do you want, Dvd?" Amy asks. "What would make you happy?"

"The shit beetle's death," Dvd declares. "I have my system and I have David so I don't need anything else."

"What are you gonna do?" Lenny asks. "Just hang out on the inside again? Stare at people? Sounds kinda dull."

"It's fine," Dvd insists.

"Kerry thought it was fine," Lenny points out. "But guess what?"

"David will always need me to protect him," Dvd says.

"And that'll still be a full-time job?" Syd asks. "Even without Farouk?"

"Obviously," Dvd says. "Especially with you around."

Syd stiffens, but she's not going down that easy. "Don't you want me and David to work things out?"

"It doesn't matter what I want," Dvd says. "What matters is what makes David happy."

"I don't think he'll be happy being with me if you're miserable," Syd says.

"That sounds like your problem," Dvd smirks.

"You just told David 'we got your girlfriend back'," Lenny points out. "So you're lying to him? Are you gonna start hiding your thoughts again, too? Hmm, lying and manipulation, who does that sound like?"

"Shut up!" Dvd says, loudly.

David frowns, stirs. Divad glares at Dvd. Dvd slumps and shuts his mouth.

"Shh, everything's okay," Amy soothes. After a minute, David settles again.

"If he needs sleep, then just make him sleep," Dvd mutters.

"I don't want to do that to him anymore," Divad says. "It was wrong. I was acting like Farouk. David needs to make his own decisions. That's why Amy's not in charge of us anymore. We can help him, but we can't— Be in charge of him."

"You managed David a lot, when you were both inside," Amy says. "Like how Cary managed Kerry."

"I made him better," Dvd says, quietly but firm.

"We made him give us what we wanted," Divad says, tersely. "Because the monster messed us up to make us think we had to. It was wrong, Dvd. What we did to him was wrong."

"What you did was wrong," Dvd says, angry. "Forget the monster, you're the one I had to protect him from."

Divad looks away, visibly hurt.

"Giving Farouk that show already?" Lenny says, annoyed. "You remind me of me, and trust me, that's not a compliment."

"Fuck you," Dvd says, baring his teeth.

"I'd say fuck you, but you're already busy fucking yourself," Lenny says. "And David. You are absolutely fucking David. And not in the fun way."

Dvd is angry and upset, and he turns away. Syd recognizes that look. He's wishing he could run away, find some quiet place to be miserable in. But he's trapped in this room and there's still no bedroom for him to hide in.

"I know you hate me because David loves me more than he loves you," Syd says, calmly.

Dvd stares at her, startled.

"It's okay," Syd says. "To be honest— I'm jealous of you. The closeness you and Divad share with him. Nothing will ever keep you apart. If you get through this, you'll have a lifetime to make new memories with him. And those old feelings he still has, if you nurture them— He'll love you so much. He wants to."

Dvd's anger fizzles out. Divad eases, and gives David a meaningful look.

"I'm glad he doesn't remember me," Divad admits, quietly. "You're right. I was awful to him. Even before—" He pauses, turns to Dvd. "He loved you so much even Farouk couldn't wipe it all away. You got the best of both worlds, you know that? A fresh start and a love that strong? You have everything Syd and I want, but you're so angry you can't see it."

"Talk about leaving yourself wide open," Lenny says, shaking her head.

"You think pain will save you," Syd says, certain. "That's what I thought, too. I tried to teach that to David but all it did was hurt him. That's what pain does. It won't make us strong, Dvd. It can't. And if you don't let yourself heal, you'll lose everything you think you're protecting. You'll lose David. Even if you survive Farouk."

Dvd looks like he got hit with a couple of Kerry's right hooks. He looks at David, distraught. "I can't lose him," he says, and gives Amy a pleading look.

"Then— Do what we always should have done," Divad says, gently. "Give him what he actually needs, not— What we think he needs. He needs us to get better so our system can heal. So— He can remember."

Dvd stares at Divad.

"The traumatic amnesia," Divad reminds him. "David needs those memories back. We're in those memories, Dvd. Whatever's left, we're in them. Because we were always there for everything. Do you think he wants all that pain back for himself? He wants it back for us."

"He shouldn't remember," Dvd insists, upset.

"He wants to," Divad says. "He needs to."

"No," Dvd says, certain. "The whole point of me remembering is so he doesn't have to! It was in the books!" His voice grows hoarse with emotion. "That's what we're for! To protect him!"

"Those books were wrong," Divad says. "And you know how I know that? Because if they could have actually helped us, Farouk would've made us forget them. But he didn't. The whole point of— What we are is— To share. To not have to carry anything alone. You don't want to feel anything alone, right? So why do you have to remember it alone?"

Dvd breaks into tears.

Divad sighs and pulls Dvd into his arms. Dvd protests but Divad holds on to him, and Dvd gives in and holds him back.

Syd and Lenny look at each other, and they're both relieved. Syd watches Divad comfort Dvd, sees David sleeping in Amy's care, and realizes—

They're not David. Divad and Dvd. They're all a system, obviously, but— Even talking to them individually wasn't really like talking to different people. It was just— David acting strangely. Seeing all three of them at once, seeing them interacting, seeing— The fullness of them—

If she and David do get back together— She'll never have the same relationship with his headmates as she has with him. She can't. Any more than— Loving one triplet means automatically loving the other two.

And that's why Farouk doesn't want them. Maybe he doesn't think they're real, but that doesn't actually matter. What he wants is David, just like her. And Divad and Dvd are not David. Even though they share duplicate memories, even though they've swapped entire parts of themselves. Somehow— David is always David. Dvd is always Dvd. Divad is always Divad.

She thinks about how she tried to talk to Dvd yesterday like they were already in a relationship. She was wrong. Dvd was there, of course. But he was just— Sharing David's relationship with her. Whatever she'll have with Dvd and Divad— They have to build it together.

It's not a fresh start. She doubts it'll ever be easy. The three of them are all— Intense and high maintenance. But they're a package deal, a mandatory buy one get two free. And she feels like— She's connected with all of them in different ways. And for the first time, she wonders—

What if they're what she needs? Someone like her, prone to jealousy, and in some ways— As wounded and needy as they are. Maybe their ability to— Balance each other out— Will help her find her own balance. And she won't have to worry so much about hurting David when Divad and Dvd are always there, ready to protect him.

She actually— Feels better, knowing David has them. Knowing they have each other. She's always worried so much about David. But he's getting better, they're all getting better. And they're finding their healthy multiplicity. Maybe Clark was right. Maybe the four of them together— Are better than two.

Chapter 130: Day 12: Professor Charles Xavier (David)

Chapter Text

David sits up, pushing aside the blanket draped over him, and rubs the sleep from his face.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Lenny says. She closes her notebook and puts it aside.

David orients himself, seeing— Everyone else is at the table. Divad is talking to Syd, and Dvd is with Amy. They all look— Happy? He blinks, not entirely sure if he's awake. But no, that's— Definitely what he's seeing.

He slumps back, groggy and relieved.

"You were seriously wiped," Lenny says. "We thought we'd let you recharge before— Y'know."

"Right," David sighs, remembering. And then his eyes open wide. "My dreams!"

"Don't worry," Lenny says. "You didn't snooze long enough to get out of NREM. It's only the REM stuff we gotta worry about. Farouk can only mess with you for like, two hours a night max."

David's not entirely sure that's reassuring.

Lenny stands up. "C'mon, I wanna watch you eat."

"Food voyeur," David mutters. He follows her to the table. Everyone else has already finished, but it looks like— They had something with rice and a sauce.

"Hey," Syd says, and smiles. David can't get over how relaxed she looks. "How're you feeling?"

"Um, awake," David offers. There's a glass of water waiting for him along with his covered bowl. He takes a long drink, then lifts the lid. "Curry?" he asks, sure there's a story behind the choice, since there usually is.

"Cary wanted it," Kerry says. "It's what Oliver made for us when we first met." She smiles at Oliver. "Cary needed a good memory."

"Um, hey Cary," David tries, feeling a bit strange, but— Cary just happens to be inside, so— Even if Cary can't talk himself yet, he should be addressed directly. "Thanks, this smells delicious."

"Cary says Oliver was a fantastic cook," Kerry relays. "And in curries everything is soft, so I like it, too. There's a lot of flavors, though."

David tries it. The curry does indeed have a lot of flavors, and even a little heat. But they all blend together just right. David finds he's starving and digs in. "It's really good," he tells Cary, through a mouthful.

Kerry's pleased. "Cary says he's glad you like it."

David's halfway through the bowl when he remembers— What's happened every time he works on his possession trauma. He slows and then puts down his spoon.

"Cary wants to know if something's wrong," Kerry says, concerned.

"No, no," David says. "It's just— Maybe I shouldn't fill up, you know?"

Lenny winces. "Yeah, probably. But hey, if it's all gonna come back up anyway, might as well enjoy it now."

Again, David feels less than reassured. He picks his spoon back up anyway, and tries not to rush. The curry is delicious. It's nice, thinking that it means good things to Cary and Kerry and— Well, presumably Oliver doesn't remember yet, but someday he will. All his memories are waiting inside him. David feels another pang of longing.

For some reason, that thought has an effect on Dvd. David notices that— His eyes are puffy and a little red, like he's been crying. David knows that look well, from staring at his own reflection.

"Um, Dvd— Are you okay?" David asks.

Dvd hesitates, then meets David's eyes. "I'm forgiving Amy. And I'm trying to forgive Divad and Syd."

"Wow," David says, impressed. "Dvd, that's fantastic!"

"It's really hard," Dvd admits. "But— I need to do it for us. All of us." He gives David a hopeful look.

"I'm really proud of you," David says, and smiles.

Dvd relaxes and smiles back.

"Dvd's doing great," Divad says. "I'm proud of him, too."

"We all are," Amy says, warmly.

"Enough, enough," Dvd says, embarrassed. It's adorable.

"Cary says he was hoping the curry would help Oliver remember," Kerry says.

"Did it?" David asks, turning to Oliver.

"No," Oliver says, disappointed. "But at the moment I'm rather distracted. Perhaps I'll try it again later."

"We'll get to work as soon as you're ready," Ptonomy tells David. "But we've got a few minutes."

David nods, and concentrates on clearing his head, mentally preparing himself for what's ahead. He finds his attention drifting back to Syd.

"You seem— Happy," David tells her.

"I guess I am," Syd admits. "I realized— I have a lot of good things I want to hold on to." She looks at Dvd, and they share some meaningful exchange.

David doesn't think he's ever seen Dvd have a meaningful exchange. Certainly not with Syd.

"I should take more naps," David decides.

Syd laughs— Laughs. It's soft and breathy, and it makes her eyes sparkle. He feels suddenly like— He's falling in love with her all over again.

Apparently the nap was good for him, too.

"We can do the possession work in the garden, if you think that'll help," Ptonomy offers.

David considers that. It feels novel to be given the choice. "Here's probably better," he decides. He needs the infrastructure for something this big. And even thought the garden is soothing, the lab feels— Safe.

When David's ready, they clean up lunch and move back to the sitting area. Oliver and Ptonomy take their loveseat as usual. But David finds himself on the sofa between Kerry and Amy, while Divad sits with Syd in the other loveseat, and Dvd and Lenny take the beanbag chairs. It feels like— Finally having his whole system visible together has made them— Truly part of the group.

No, not the group. Not even friends. They're a family now. No adoptions necessary.

"I like that thought," Divad tells him. "Can we tell Syd and the Karies?"

"Um, sure," David says, feeling himself blush.

"David thinks— We're a family," Divad tells them. "All of us."

"That's lovely," Amy says, pleased.

"I can work with that," Lenny says.

Syd gives David a shy look. "Are you sure?" she asks him.

"I guess I am," David says. The feeling is new, but— He likes it. He wants it. And with everything they're facing— He knows it'll give him the strength to get through this. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Okay. Let's do this."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. He hands over the possession work David did before.

'FUCK THE SHIT BEETLE' tops the page, written with feeling. David gives a surprised little laugh. He forgot about that. He wrote this only two days ago, but so much has happened since then. Maybe they haven't worked on this directly, but—

He reads the list and doesn't feel amused anymore.

Made me schizophrenic.
Lived inside me and fed on me.
Took me over and made me hurt people.
Made me forget and sculpted me.
Made me schizophrenic.

Memories from that session trickle back to him. He remembers Lenny crossed out the schizophrenia line and then he wrote it back in. They talked about the astral plane. He realized that years of his memories were copied from Divad. And that was when— He finally realized he’s still the same David. That's why— He was able to cross out the other line.

“Let’s do what we did with Syd,” Ptonomy says. “Let’s talk about your goals. What's your to-do list for this? What's a successful outcome? What do you want to achieve?”

"Well I don't want to trust Farouk again," David says, with bitter humor.

"So you want to be able to protect yourself from him?" Ptonomy suggests. "You don't want him to be able to manipulate you?"

"Yes," David says, firmly. He thinks about that. "I guess— With all the therapy— I understand myself better. How different things— Affect me. How to manage that. But I— This is—" He pauses, looks at the list again. He thinks about his Syd lists. Things Syd did under Farouk's control, Ptonomy said. Things David did under Farouk's control.

Made me hurt people.

"I need to figure out— What was him and what was me," David decides. "If blaming myself for what went wrong— Makes me vulnerable— If what we have is— An abusive relationship— Then I need to untangle— Us. Me and— Amahl Farouk. I need to— Recognize what I did wrong so I can learn from it. And recognize what he did so I can stop him from doing it again."

It feels like everything he's learned led up to that. It feels like an accomplishment, like climbing a mountain and looking back to see how far he's come.

"That's excellent work," Ptonomy praises, pleased. "Write that down."

Farouk Therapy Goals, David writes. And then he writes as he says aloud: "Protect myself from manipulation. Separate Farouk's choices from my own. Learn from my mistakes. Say NO."

The last one feels the most important. Whatever Farouk wants from him, whatever Farouk is already doing to him— David wants to say NO to all of that, loud and clear.

"Sounds good to us," Dvd says, eagerly. Divad smiles at both of them.

"Anything else?" Ptonomy asks.

David thinks again. "Farouk wasn't just my schizophrenia. He's also— My haphephobia. Right?"

"The trauma he caused is what upsets you when you try to share your body," Ptonomy agrees.

"I know Syd and Lenny are working on theirs," David says, and gives them both small smiles. "And Kerry and Cary are— Learning to share their body. And I was able to share with my headmates for the lamp. But I want— To be comfortable with them. I don't want to be reminded of Farouk every time we share. I want what Farouk took away from us."

"That's an excellent goal," Ptonomy says. "So what you do think will help you do that?"

"Control?" David tries. "I need to feel— In control of touch. Internal touch. But it's not just— Acclimating, right? It's the feeling. So I need to— Process what happened so I can change the feeling."

"Very good," Ptonomy praises. "Let's add that to the list."

"Find ways to be in control of touch when sharing," David says and writes. "Process my trauma so I can let it go. Share my body with my headmates."

"Okay if I make a suggestion?" Ptonomy says.

David nods.

"The reality is that you're never going to forget Farouk," Ptonomy says. "And I don't think you want to. I think you've had enough of forgetting. Right?"

"Yeah," David admits.

"So don't put the health of your system on forgetting," Ptonomy says. "What you need to do is— Make a strong, positive association with the sensation of sharing your body. Then do what Lenny's doing with her double memories. Build up that good feeling, make it strong. And try to separate yourself from the bad feeling. Weaken it so it can't get in the way."

"Replace a bad idea with a good one?" David recognizes.

"Exactly," Ptonomy says. "I hope fixing the rocket lamp with your system was a good start to that."

"It was," David realizes.

'Yes,' Divad thinks, quietly thrilled.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "But those negative associations are powerful. It's going to take work to beat them."

"Whatever it takes," David says, certain.

"Then add that to your list," Ptonomy says.

With determination, David adds, "Make my positive associations with sharing strong. Make my negative associations with sharing weak."

He looks over both his Farouk lists, and then— "Took me away from my system," he adds to the Trauma list.

He looks at Divad and Dvd. They're both deeply affected, and Dvd wipes at his eyes.

"I think it's safe to say— You're back together again," Ptonomy says, warmly.

"We are," David agrees, and feels— Glad about that. He feels relieved and— Like they're the rocket lamp, put back back together and slowly mending.

"I guess we are the lamp," Dvd sighs, pouting about it but— Happy, too.

David has such a good, warm feeling. He thinks— That will help his positive associations a lot.

"Okay," he says, ready. "What's next?"

"Is there anything else you want to add to either list?" Ptonomy asks.

David reads them again. "Not right now," he decides.

"Then let's get started," Ptonomy says. "Let's walk through what happened with Farouk, just like we did with Benny. Let's look back at all that from where you are now. And as we go, we'll work on the goals on your list. Sound good?"

"I'm ready," David says.

"We can pick up where we left off," Ptonomy says. "You got lost on the astral plane. Oliver found you, brought you to his ice cube. He tried to explain about the monster, and then you left. Tell us what happened next."

David thinks back, tries to relive that moment. He sees Lenny sitting across from him and remembers—

"I was— Wandering around, completely lost," he says. He closes his eyes, recalling the murky green landscape of the astral plane, shifting and strange. He doesn't know how long he was there, until— "I was worried about Amy and— I had to get back to Syd. And then— Lenny showed up." He opens his eyes, and Lenny is still there. "I— Thought it was Lenny. Maybe. I didn't know what I thought."

"What did Farouk do?" Ptonomy asks. "What did he say?"

"She was— He was playing with me," David admits. "Taunting me. I asked her— him if— He was my friend and— He said— Whatever was happening was your fault, you and Melanie and— Cary and Kerry. The shot. He said— We had to get out of there. Together. And then— He showed me Syd."

David looks to Syd, meets her gaze. "He told me— He could help me save you. I just had to— Concentrate. Get angry, really angry." He tenses as he remembers— That white-hot, justified rage. They were going to kill Syd and he had to stop them. He had to.

It was the same feeling. Just like he felt torturing Oliver, just like he felt facing Farouk in the desert. Playing the hero, playing god, feeling— Absolutely certain what he was doing was righteous and necessary.

"I did what he wanted me to do," David admits looking down, away. Every one of those moments, he was being manipulated, used. He was playing right into Farouk's hands. "And then—" He pauses. He looks at Lenny, at Dvd beside her. He swallows.

"It's okay," Amy soothes. She rests a hand on his back, gives it a rub. David focuses on the feeling of her palm, lets it steady him. He takes a breath, lets it out.

"When it happened," David starts. "It felt—" He pauses again, struggling. It's so hard to put this into words. "I was— Confused and lost and then all of a sudden— I felt— Completely in control. Of myself, my powers, the world." God, looking back, he can see the pattern so clearly, just like he did with Benny. That control, that's the bliss, the hook, the— The thing he needs so much he'll give up everything for a taste.

Everything.

If he's supposed to untangle— Farouk's choices from his own— If he has to learn what went wrong so he can stop it from happening again—

"I don't—" David starts. "I don't want to be some kind of— Vengeful god. But he makes me want it." He looks to Ptonomy, needing him to make sense of it.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering. "Farouk takes natural fears, wants, and exploits them, magnifies them. If you're afraid of something, like— Syd being hurt, he creates a situation where you believe her life is in immediate danger. If there's something you crave, like a sense of control over yourself, your life— A healthy thing to want— He ties that up with controlling everyone else, too. Package deal.”

David thinks back to that moment again. He thinks about the times he met with Farouk on the astral plane and Farouk would always— Taunt him. Provoke him. But also— Urge him to take control, just like before. To be a god. No, to be like Farouk’s idea of a god.

“He wants me to be in control,” David starts, puzzling over it. “But he doesn’t want that. If he wanted it, he’d just— Let me be in control.”

“That’s true,” Ptonomy agrees. “So even though that’s what he says, he must want something else.”

All that control, giving it and taking it— “It’s all just a game to him,” David says. “He doesn’t want anything but— Entertainment. Revenge.” Against the father David never knew. “Thirty years of torture isn’t enough?”

“I don’t think he knows how to stop,” Ptonomy offers. “How about we go over what we do know about Amahl Farouk?”

“Yes,” David says, ready for it.

“We don’t know how old he is or where he came from,” Ptonomy says. “But our first records of him were in Egypt. Eventually he was identified in Morocco as the head of a crime syndicate. He was very powerful, politically. We think he used his powers to blackmail people. He also ran the usual rackets: protection, gambling, prostitution, smuggling.”

It’s deeply strange to think of Farouk as— Not an obsessive monster but— An actual person with a history, with— An entire life that had nothing to do with David Haller.

“And then your biological father took him down,” Ptonomy continues. “We don’t know much. Maybe your father covered his tracks, made any witnesses forget. But we know he took Farouk’s body with him, took it to the desert, to the monks. That’s a lot of trouble to go through for a dead body.”

“So he knew Farouk’s mind was still alive?” David guesses. Wandering the astral plane— Like Oliver?

“It seems likely,” Ptonomy agrees. “Farouk’s body is indestructible. Your father may have also wanted to keep it out of anyone’s reach.”

"Do you know anything about— My father?" David asks. "Who he was, why he— Did any of that?"

"We know he must have been an extremely powerful telepath," Ptonomy says. "Mutants with those abilities— They do what Oliver did to protect Summerland. They cover their tracks, make people forget about them, what they're capable of."

"Farouk knows who he is," David says. "So we need to know what he knows, right?"

"I agree," Divad says. "Cary, you're the one who knew about Farouk, right?" he asks, turning to the Karies. "Who else did you know about?"

"Cary says Oliver was the one who found mutants," Kerry says. "Oliver, do you remember the other telepaths you found?"

Oliver shakes his head. "Not unless— They were among the dead."

"Cary says he hopes that's not what happened to your dad," Kerry says. "He says— If we go by sheer power alone, and of course your father being male— There is one possible candidate. We can't be sure it's him, but—"

"Cary?" Ptonomy prompts.

"Cary says he's sorry but— He didn't say anything sooner because he didn't want to tell the Divisions. He doesn't even know if he's still alive. All of this is— Simply conjecture, there are other powerful telepaths, it didn't necessarily have to be this one."

"Ugh, just spit it out," Dvd says, impatient.

"Professor Charles Xavier," Kerry relays, letting some of Cary's reluctance into her voice. "The most powerful telepath Oliver ever found. Aside from you, of course. If anyone was capable of defeating Farouk—"

"Charles Xavier?" David echoes, looking around at everyone. Divad and Dvd look around, too.

"Professor," Oliver murmurs. "I believe— Farouk mentioned a professor."

"Recently?" Ptonomy asks.

"There was a woman," Oliver says. "A driver. She knew the way to the desert."

"What woman?" Ptonomy asks, sharper.

"Tu étais assez riche, pour devenir cent fois toi-même en une seule fleur," Oliver sings, startling everyone. He turns to David. "We really must make that barbershop quartet. Long overdue."

"Oliver," Ptonomy says, firmly, trying to get him to focus. "This woman, she knew Xavier?"

"She must have," Oliver says. "Though I'm afraid— Farouk killed her. But she didn't seem to mind."

"Then it really was him?" Kerry asks. "This professor guy is really the Davids' dad?"

"We can't be completely sure, but— Possibly," Ptonomy says. He seems thoughtful.

"My father," David says, stunned as it sinks in. He looks at Dvd and Divad and sees they feel the same. "Our father," he corrects. He and his headmates all turn to look at the Karies.

"Cary, you have to tell us about him," Divad says.

Kerry listens, then relays. "Cary says— After Oliver disappeared, Melanie asked for his help. Not just with finding Oliver but— With Summerland. But—" Kerry stops. "Cary, it's probably fine," she says. "The war's over, right?" She listens some more, then huffs. "Cary says there's things he can't say because it would put lives in danger. But he can say that— Charles couldn't join us because he had— His own concerns. But he was able to help Summerland stay hidden."

"Charles?" Divad asks, his eyebrows raised. "You were friends with our dad?"

"You and Melanie never told me about this," Ptonomy says, annoyed.

"Cary says he's sorry," Kerry relays. "But this information was and still is deeply sensitive. And by the time you joined us, Charles was— No longer available to help."

"He's dead?" David asks, warily.

"Cary doesn't know where he is now," Kerry relays. "But he's— No longer on this planet."

"What, did aliens abduct him?" Dvd sneers.

"Well, yes," Kerry relays. "Shi'ar, to be precise. Though it was quite consensual, I assure you."

David has to take that in.

"I'm sorry, you said our father left Earth years ago to hang out with some aliens?" Divad asks, astonished. "And since when are aliens real?"

"Oh, there are many alien civilizations with faster-than-light travel," Kerry relays. "In fact, the orb that took you was made using Shi'ar technology."

David stares at the Karies. "Are you— Are you saying my dad kidnapped me? Us?"

"Not at all," Kerry relays. "Well, probably not. I suppose it's possible he came back, but— Oh! I just realized I'm talking." She smiles. No— Cary smiles.

"Cary?" Amy asks.

"It's me," Cary says, and sounds a little shocked about it. He looks down at himself, at— His system's body. "I'm— Fronting."

"Is Kerry okay?" Dvd asks, frowning.

Cary goes still, and then— "I'm okay," Kerry says. "Wow, it's weird being inside again." Kerry goes still, and then— "I suppose nothing feels more natural to me than explaining," Cary jokes.

"This session has officially gone off the rails," Lenny declares.

"Yeah," Ptonomy sighs. "Cary, I'm really glad you're able to control your system's body, but— We need to focus."

"Of course," Cary says. "My apologies. Ah, Davids— I hope that answers your questions about Charles?"

"This hasn't even begun to answer our questions," Divad declares. "What the hell, Cary? Why didn't you tell us before?"

"Well, I mean, I had no way of knowing Charles was your father until now," Cary says. "And it's still not absolutely certain. But if he was your father— He was a very good man. He was— Often forced to make difficult choices, but—"

"Difficult choices like abandoning his son?" David says, upset. "You know what? Screw him. Farouk was right. My dad was an asshole." He crosses his arms, furious. His whole life could've been different. If his asshole of a father had actually brought him to Summerland and they'd been able to help him—

His life didn't have to be torture. It didn't. There was a choice made for him and it wasn't Farouk's.

"I'm sorry, I can't—" David starts, and cuts himself off. He stands up and walks out of the sitting area, stops and turns back. "I need a break," he tells them, and walks away from everyone, especially Cary.

Chapter 131: Day 12: I want to share again. (David)

Chapter Text

Charles Xavier is his birth father. Apparently. David wonders if that makes him David Xavier. Probably not, he probably wasn't even named David before he was— Abandoned? Thrown away? And what about his birth mother? Who was she, why did she— Why didn't they just keep him?

God, he can't deal with this. He can't deal with this right now, there's so much he has to work on and they don't even know for sure if Charles Xavier is the right guy because Oliver's still too swiss cheese to remember and if it isn't him there's no point in getting invested in someone who isn't even on the planet anymore and who the fuck leaves the planet? With aliens?!

Calm. He's calm. He's breathing. In, out, slow and deep.

It's a shock. He's used to shocks by now. Or he should be. It's not the worst one he's had, not even just today. Fuck, Cary's body died this morning, this is nothing. It might not even be the right guy, he can't let this— Possibility derail everything they're trying to achieve.

"Okay," he says to himself. Okay. He turns and goes back to the sofa. He sits down and opens his notebook to the last round of foundation work.

"Learn about Charles Xavier," he says and adds to his to-do list. "Find my birth parents. Process feelings about my birth parents." He pauses, then writes, 'Aliens?!?!' Then he straightens up and gives Ptonomy a determined look. "Where were we?"

Ptonomy gives a surprised little laugh. "You handled that really well, David. Good job."

David rubs his palms against his legs. "Pick what I want to focus on, right? Whoever my— Our parents are, we'll deal with it later. They haven't mattered for thirty years, they can wait."

"Dvd, Divad?" Ptonomy prompts.

Dvd and Divad look at each other.

Divad turns to David. "Guess we'll add it to our notebooks, too."

Dvd gives a long-suffering sigh but both of them open their mental notebooks and write.

'Aliens?' Dvd thinks, annoyed. 'Asshole. Stress responses don't have to deal with shitty alien abducted deadbeat dads.'

Lenny snorts. Syd gives her a quizzical look. Lenny mouths 'later.'

The Karies open their mouth to speak, but then close it again. David doesn't know if it was Cary or Kerry, but he'd guess it was Cary. Kerry isn't really the hesitating type.

"So let's focus on Farouk," Ptonomy says. "And let's look at your Farouk list again. Is there anything you feel you're making progress on?"

David switches back to the Farouk sheets. "I guess— The first three." Protect himself from manipulation. Separate Farouk's choices from his own. Learn from his mistakes.

"How about we keep working on those?" Ptonomy says. "Let's talk about what happened next, after Farouk convinced you to let him have control."

"Right," David says, and tries to put himself back there again. Forget about his parents, they forgot about him. Focus on Farouk, focus on— Lenny.

He looks at Lenny.

Lenny doesn't look pleased. "I'm not him," she mutters.

"I know," David says, apologetic. "I wasn't— Sure you were you, I saw your body, but— Nothing made sense and— You're my friend. Of course I trusted you."

"You're saying it was my fault?" Lenny asks, offended.

"No, no, of course not, I didn't— That's not what I meant," David says. How did this suddenly become an argument? "I know it was Farouk, I know that now, I know— None of it was your choice."

"But?" Lenny prompts, challengingly.

David sighs. "If he hadn't— Pretended to be you— He would have been like Oliver, some— Weird guy I didn't feel safe with. I wouldn't have let him—" He can't finish.

"Let him what?" Ptonomy prompts, voice soft but insistent.

David crosses his arms, pulls in on himself. He doesn't feel nauseous yet, but— he feels like he's about to be.

"David," Ptonomy says. "Remember— When we talked about fear. Your body senses a threat and it's trying to protect you. From painful memories, from— The vulnerabilities that Farouk takes advantage of. Those vulnerabilities— They're exactly what we need to get at."

"I know," David says, tightly.

"Farouk already knows them," Ptonomy reminds him. "He already knows everything about you. So this is about you knowing yourself. Do you need to protect yourself from yourself?"

"Apparently," David mutters. When Ptonomy just gives him a look, David huffs. "No," he admits, and feels— His grip on himself loosen.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "So what did you let Farouk do?"

David tightens up again, but he does his best to keep going. He can't get to it thinking about Farouk, so he tries— "Lenny. I let Lenny— Help me." He looks at her, apologetic but— Needing this.

"Lenny," Ptonomy accepts. "Okay. How did she help you?"

David breathes out. "She said— She could help me be— Everything I wanted to be. And when she—" He wavers, his stomach turning. "Entered me." His voice is shaky. "It felt— So good." God, it did, even though now— He swallows, fighting nausea.

"Throw up if you gotta," Kerry says, and puts an empty bucket on the table. David takes it and holds on to it. At least he won't have to run to the sink.

They give him a moment. The nausea eases.

"Everything you wanted to be?" Ptonomy asks.

David shakes his head, not denying but trying to understand. "I don't— Know how to explain—" He falters, tries again. "It was like— Suddenly things made sense. I understood. I was so confused and lost and then— I wasn't anymore. Because of her. And it felt so— Right. Not being— Alone in myself. Like there was this— Emptiness inside me and she filled it, she— Made me whole."

There's a terrible moment as David realizes what that feeling was, as Dvd and Divad and everyone else realizes what that feeling was. Divad is sober, solemn. Dvd's furious and on the verge of tears.

"That was ours," Dvd spits out. "That was our feeling and he stole it! He ruined it!"

"That's— What it feels like?" David half-asks, because it's not really a question. That feeling of— Not invasion but— Return. Once she was inside him, it felt like— She was always meant to be there. Like every bad thing in his life had only been— Because she was missing.

"Yes," Divad says, quietly. "That's what it feels like."

Dvd gives Divad an angry, hurt look, then turns away, pulls in on himself just like David did before. Divad gives a frustrated sigh and pulls in on himself, too.

"I'm sorry," David tries, because he doesn't know what else to say.

"The emptiness," Ptonomy says. "Have you always felt that?"

"I don't know," David admits. "I was— Anxious, depressed— There was so much noise in my head all the time and I couldn't—" He grips at the bucket. "Nothing felt right. Nothing about me felt right. I don't know— How much was— Farouk torturing me and— How much was— What he took away."

"That's a lot to untangle," Ptonomy admits.

"I was sick," David says, and looks at Ptonomy. "That's what I knew. I was sick and broken and— I deserved it. And it was never going to stop. And then she just— Made it stop."

"You didn't feel sick anymore," Ptonomy says.

"Everything was gone," David admits. "All the— Pain and fear— The confusion— My powers, I— Knew how to use them, control them. Just like that. I was so lost and she— Made me found."

"That must have been a powerful moment," Ptonomy says.

"God it was," David breathes. He looks at Lenny. "I was so grateful to you, I trusted you so much. I—" His body tenses again. He tries to say it, but his throat locks up. He struggles, frustrated, but he can't even think it.

"Okay," Ptonomy soothes. "It's okay."

"David," Amy says. "I'm going to touch you. Okay?"

David manages a nod. When Amy touches his arm he tenses even more, but her hand is steady and he focuses on it, lets it help. He lets out a shaky breath.

"So it wasn't just Syd and Lenny that Farouk used," Ptonomy says, in a calm tone. "He used the system he took away from you. He used their absence, knowing— Sharing would feel right to you."

Tears well in David's eyes, spill over. He nods once, unable to speak. There's an enormous pain in his throat, stopping him up. God, it kills him that— Farouk knew all this pain was here, Farouk put it in him and— Now he's savoring it all over again. Fuck him, fuck that absolute monster.

Farouk was inside him. Not just— In his body, but— In him, guiding his thoughts, his actions, making— A cocktail out of them. And David loved it. He loved it, it felt so good and right and like everything he ever needed. And then—

His stomach roils, but he can't throw up any more than he can speak. His whole body feels like it's trying to reject itself. He feels Amy trying to soothe him but a sick heat comes over him and his senses start to fade.

"Shit," someone says. And then Lenny's right in front of him, patting his cheek, and Kerry and Amy are holding onto him.

"Hey, stay with us, okay?" Lenny urges, worried. "You can't break my streak, remember? No going away. C'mon, kid, stay with me."

He doesn't— God, he doesn't want to go. He feels Amy and Kerry taking his hands and he grips back with all his might. He feels that blankness pulling at him, a black hole of absence dragging him down. He's in the event horizon and he has to get free.

He focuses everything he has on Kerry and Amy and— Lenny. On Lenny. Lenny, his best friend who went through hell because of the parasite in his head and he won't abandon her again.

The sick heat breaks. The world fills back in. He takes gulping breaths as the pull fades away. And then the nausea roils back at full force and Lenny moves back just in time.

§

They take a break to give David time to recover. They give him painkillers for his pounding headache and make him drink water and wrap a blanket around him. He rests. He lies down on the sofa with his head on Amy's lap and just exists for a while. Even though he absolutely doesn't want to go away, staying always makes him feel terrible. It takes everything out of him, and all he wants to do is lie curled up in the dark until tomorrow, or even the day after.

But they can't let him do that. They have to keep going.

When he feels only mostly awful, he drags himself upright and everyone comes back, sits down. Everyone's— Quiet, serious. Even Dvd.

Kerry offers him the bucket, freshly cleaned. He shakes his head and she sets it aside.

"David," Ptonomy starts, looking at him. "I know you're not up to much right now. But we're going to try to get some more done anyway. Okay?"

David gives a weary nod.

"That was a lot of hard work," Ptonomy continues. "So let's talk about it, help you process. Make it a little easier to carry. Sound good?"

"'Kay," David says. He tugs the blanket closer around himself. Amy rubs his back.

"With your permission, I'd like to discuss your thoughts," Ptonomy says. "Syd and Kerry and Cary couldn't hear them. But I think they need to. Okay?"

David nods again.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "I'd say we have— A much clearer picture of what happened now. I'm going to tell you what I see, and you can tell me if I'm wrong." He waits for David's nod, then continues. "When Farouk possessed you, made a cocktail out of the two of you— Part of the reason that felt good to you was because it was so similar to how things used to be with your system."

David nods.

"Even though Farouk took Dvd and Divad away from you," Ptonomy continues, "you're still the same David, like you always have been. You grew up sharing your existence, sharing control of your body, and accepting the guidance of others on— An essential level."

Ptonomy looks at Dvd and Divad, and they nod.

"That means what you used to have, the comfort you had sharing with your system— That's all still inside you. That's the good. The bad is that the pain Farouk caused is in the way. That pain is fresh and very powerful, but it's limited. Sharing with Farouk didn't cause it. It was what happened when Farouk took full control."

David's stomach is empty, but he feels queasy again just thinking about that. He swallows, wondering if he should have taken the bucket back after all.

"I know it's hard to think about," Ptonomy allows. "Think of this as— Putting a circle around the problem. That first part, when you were sharing with Farouk and enjoying it? Can we address that?"

David feels it out. "I think so," he rasps.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Syd. I think we found the answer to a question you have."

Syd straightens. "What question is that?"

"If David enjoyed being possessed," Ptonomy says. "What was it Farouk told you about that?"

Syd concentrates. "Uh. He said— You can make someone do something, but you can't make them enjoy it."

David meets Syd's eyes.

"That was one of the things Farouk used to convince you to shoot David," Ptonomy says. "That David's enjoyment of his possession was his 'true face.' Right?"

"Yes," Syd agrees. "But he was— Talking about the attack on Division 3."

"But you knew David didn't enjoy that," Ptonomy says. "Right after that happened, he reached out to you, begged for your help. You saw how scared he was. You told us about that."

"Yes," Syd admits.

"So why did you believe Farouk?" Ptonomy challenges.

Syd looks at David again. "Because— After you came back, the first time— You were different. You were— Confident and powerful and— Cruel." She looks down, ashamed, but then— Looks up again. “You loved it. And when you were taken, again— I thought— Was that— You?”

David wonders if she’s right, but then— “No,” he decides. “No, I didn’t— What I loved was—“ He struggles for the right words. “He— She felt— It was— Not being— Just me. I loved not being just me. And I trusted her. If she knew what was best—“

He cuts himself off as Divad and Dvd both wince.

Syd looks deeply thoughtful. She turns to Ptonomy. “Thank you. That did answer my question.”

“And if you think back to the desert now?” Ptonomy asks her. “To Farouk, to— Your confrontation with David?”

Syd closes her eyes, concentrates. “His true face,” she murmurs. She opens her eyes, looks at Dvd, at Divad, and then at David. “That was the truth he used,” she decides. “But it was Farouk’s truth, not yours. David, I’m sorry. What I did to you in the desert— That was wrong and— You’re right. I chose him over you and I was wrong to do that. I’m sorry.”

David stares at Syd, astonished. That was the last thing he expected from all this. “But you said— Before, you said— You chose the world.”

“I did,” Syd agrees. “I chose my future self, I chose the world— And I chose him. I believed what he told me because it felt true. I knew that— I didn’t really know who you were."

David takes that in. "I guess— I didn't either," he admits.

"No," Syd agrees.

They share a moment together, just— Looking at each other. It feels like— They see each other. They're not— Seeing what they want to see. David feels understood, and he feels— Like he understands Syd. Better than he did, anyway.

He wants to accept her apology now, but— He isn't ready. He needs time. There’s things he needs to work through. But maybe— That's healthy. Not forcing himself to give her what she wants.

'You're doing the right thing,' Divad thinks to him.

David musters a smile for him, grateful.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "We're almost done for now. But let's talk about what you said, David. You loved not being just you."

"Yes," David says, and straightens.

"And you trusted Lenny completely," Ptonomy continues. "She was already your best friend, and then she proved how much she could help you. She took away a lifetime's worth of pain, just like that."

David nods.

"And she told you that you couldn't trust us, right?" Ptonomy says. "Summerland, Oliver. She was the only one you could trust."

David nods.

"So even though you had your doubts about who she really was, you made a system with her. Just like the one you used to have. So everything you did was— A cocktail of the two of you. Your desires, your impulses mixed together."

"Yes," David admits, tensing again.

"Just focusing on before you left Summerland together," Ptonomy says. "From the time you returned from the astral plane. Tell us about that."

Ptonomy and his questions. David braces himself. "Okay, um. We had to save Syd first, obviously. That was— Kind of a disaster." He turns to the Karies. "Sorry about that."

Kerry nods. "It sucked."

David huffs a laugh. "Yeah. Um. So that was— Not a great start. But when it happened— It sounds awful, but— I guess it was— Hard to care?"

"You weren't worried about Kerry?" Ptonomy asks.

"Not really," David admits. "I mean, I barely knew who she was, and Lenny didn't like her. She didn't like Summerland, any of that. She kept— Pushing for us to leave. I thought— We should wait, that— We needed help to save Amy. She agreed that— We'd at least bring Syd, but—"

"Did that seem strange?" Ptonomy asks.

David shrugs. "In Clockworks, until Syd, it was really— Just the two of us." He hesitates, uncertain about his memories, and looks to Lenny. "Right?"

"Yeah," Lenny says, her voice rough.

David knows this is hard for her. He feels awful about— Not being able to face the full truth. But he couldn't do this without her. If he has to actually imagine Farouk doing all that to him— He's queasy just thinking about it.

"It's okay," Lenny says, but sadly. "Do what you gotta do."

Davids nods, accepting, but— Determined to face the full truth eventually. Lenny doesn't deserve to be— The face of his trauma.

"And sharing felt natural to you?" Ptonomy asks. "Even though you didn't remember your system at all?"

David thinks back again. "Yes. It felt right."

'Please,' Dvd thinks, almost a whisper. David sees his headmates watching him intensely. Needing. Divad is less intense, but— There's need in him, too.

"More right than how you feel now?" Ptonomy asks. "Being alone in your body?"

David closes his eyes, focuses on how he feels. Beneath the exhaustion and his headache, beneath the constant low pain of the crown. Knowing everything he knows now— How does he feel?

Does he miss it? Sharing his body?

He does. It's not just— Wanting to get back something he lost, or feeling like— Sharing is something he has to do for the sake of his system. He's felt— Incomplete for so long and didn't understand why except— That he was sick. That was the only way he had to understand it. That was all Farouk let him have.

And that knowledge, that feeling— He couldn't get to it. It's been tangled up in what Farouk did to him. It still is, but— Not all of it. They worked a piece of it free.

"Yes," he says, needing to say it aloud even though most of the room heard his thoughts. "I miss it. I want to share again."

He looks at Dvd and Divad again. Dvd looks like he's about to cry from happiness.

"We will," Divad promises, smiling.

Chapter 132: Day 12: You were already my friend. (Syd)

Chapter Text

The plants in the garden looked a little dry this morning, so when they head up, everyone embodied carries some water-- Even Divad, who's taken over his system's body to heal it and looks like he'll topple in a stiff breeze. In the elevator, Lenny rolls her eyes and takes his water, and Divad gives a token protest that Lenny ignores. But as soon as they're on the roof, he grabs a bench and moves into a meditative pose, eyes closed, and then doesn't move except to breathe.

Everyone relaxes. Going up to the garden at the end of the day means the hard work is over, they've done as much as they can. They could push a little more, but-- Syd knows what happens when they do that, and no one wants any of the Davids passing out or going away. One close call was enough.

They water the plants, then sort themselves out. Oliver sits down next to Divad in his own meditative pose. Amy and the Karies take the other bench together. With Ptonomy on a break to be with his family, that just leaves the four of them.

"How about we walk together?" Syd offers. She's had enough sitting for a while.

Everyone looks at David. "Sure," he says, tired but not as tired as Divad is now.

They start a slow circuit around the rooftop. Syd breathes deep, feels the warm breeze through her clothes. The weather's always beautiful here, barely a cloud in sight. The sun is low but they have time before it sets.

David's looking out at the city, and Dvd only has eyes for David. But when David does look over at Dvd, Dvd looks away. Syd gives Lenny a curious look, since she can hear what both of them are thinking. Lenny just shakes her head and looks exasperated. Dvd must be pining wordlessly so David doesn't notice.

Syd considers the situation. After a strong start, Dvd and David's relationship has been-- Stalled out, ever since yesterday's revelations. Syd knows how Dvd must feel right now. David's obviously in no shape to tackle either the reality of his old relationship with Dvd or the way their system has fragmented and fused over the years. There's only so much they can push him through each day, and sometimes one of them gets the short straw. That was Syd for a while, and now it's Dvd.

The way things have been going, Syd could let it wait. When David was finally ready for her, Syd was ready for him, and now she feels like they're getting to-- Not what they use to have, but something better. Much better. She knows it will be the same with Dvd.

But what Ptonomy said, when he came back with Oliver-- Ptonomy softens everything he tells David, so the full truth has to be a lot worse. Whatever entertainment Farouk got out of David's therapy today, she doubts it was enough. David's making too much progress, having too many breakthroughs. Farouk isn't inside him to sabotage him anymore, so all that strength David needed just to stay alive—

It makes her wonder what he could have been, without Farouk. It makes her wonder what he's going to be. She wants to be around to find out. So even if they can't work on the big stuff, she has to find a way to get Dvd and David's relationship moving again.

David might be worn out, but Dvd isn’t. Maybe he’s the one who needs a push. Syd just needs to get him alone.

She signals to Lenny to back her up, then moves up next to Dvd, stops him. David stops too, after a moment.

“Syd?” David asks, brow furrowing.

“Everything’s fine,” Syd assures him. “I was wondering— Can I steal Dvd for a bit? I’d like to spend some time alone together, now that we can.”

David stares at her in tired surprise, and then his face slowly breaks into a grin. He’s thrilled. “Of course,” he says, and looks between Dvd and Syd like a proud parent.

Dvd is immediately suspicious.

“We’ll stay here,” Syd says.

“C’mon,” Lenny tells David. David follows her, only glancing back twice.

As soon as they’re out of earshot, Syd mutters, “Shield your thoughts right now.”

Dvd narrows his eyes. “Why?” he challenges.

“So I can help you without David overhearing,” Syd mutters. “It’s fine, Lenny knows.”

Lenny doesn’t exactly know what Syd is up to, but Syd trusts she’ll play it cool with David. In the state David’s in, he probably won’t notice if no one tells him.

“This is a trick,” Dvd mutters.

“Dvd,” Syd says, giving him a very sober look. “Unless you want Farouk to use you to hurt David, you need help.”

She guessed that’d be the one thing that would get through to him, and she was right. His suspicion fades and she can see that he knows he can’t figure out how to fix things himself. They really are so alike, Syd doesn’t think she’ll ever get over it. But it’s useful, too. What worked once will work again. Farouk knows that and so does she.

“I’m listening,” Dvd says.

“Okay,” Syd says, thinking. “You want David back, right? But he’s— Not ready.”

Dvd nods.

“So you have to make yourself ready for him,” Syd continues. “You have to push yourself so— When the time comes, you won’t miss your chance.”

“Whaddya think I’ve been doing?” Dvd asks, annoyed.

“You need to do more,” Syd says. “We both know there’s things you’re avoiding. Those are your weak spots. Or will you just leave yourself wide open?”

Dvd scowls, but Syd can see the fear in his eyes.

“Let me help,” Syd says, softer. “I know you don’t want to upset David, and— Maybe opening up to Divad is just as hard.”

Dvd doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t deny it either.

“I’m not Ptonomy,” Syd admits. “I’m not a therapist, I don’t have the mainframe, there’s plenty of things that— I don’t know how to fix. But what I can be is your friend. I can listen and— Share what works for me.”

Dvd looks over at David and Lenny. They’re back in the garden now and it looks like they’ll stay there. If Dvd needs to be away from his headmates to open up, this is his chance.

“Fine,” Dvd says, unhappy but— Accepting.

"Okay," Syd says, relieved. "How about-- We start with your foundation work?"

"I thought you're not a therapist," Dvd mutters.

"Is there something else you'd like to talk about?" Syd asks.

Dvd crosses his arms and looks away. Then he gives a long-suffering sigh. "Fine." He pulls his mental notebook out of thin air and opens it, holds it out so she can read it.

His foundation work is getting longer, but it's obviously-- Still not his. He's doing the work for the sake of his system, for David's sake, not for himself. That's how his whole life has been. Even the things he did for himself, he tells himself he did them for David.

It's a difference between them, and not a small one. Syd's never felt that kind of selflessness, that-- Complete dependence. Dvd and David's love had to be intense for them to survive what Farouk put them through. It had to be everything when they had nothing but each other. David forgot and re-enacted, but Dvd-- He still remembers everything.

Syd straightens up, gestures that she's done. Dvd closes his notebook but doesn't put it away.

"Would you like to see mine?" Syd offers.

"I've seen it," Dvd says, dismissive.

He's a tough nut to crack, Syd can see that. But then so was she.

"So tell me what you don't want to tell David," Syd says. "I want to hear what scares you."

"Nothing scares me," Dvd sneers.

Syd just smirks. "If we asked Farouk what scares you, what do you think he'd say?"

"He doesn't even think I'm real," Dvd mutters.

"Does that bother you?" Syd asks.

It obviously does. Dvd's frown deepens.

"You weren't real to me at first," Syd admits. "It was-- Hard to see you as anything but-- David's anger. But I was wrong. Farouk's wrong, too."

"Obviously," Dvd insists, but-- The reassurance seems to help anyway. Syd watches the play of emotions on his face as he struggles for what he needs to say. He's just as expressive as David, really. He's so much more than his anger, now that he's letting himself be.

"I miss him," Dvd forces out, finally. "I know-- Everything we had--" He struggles again. "I didn't know I was hurting him. I hate myself for hurting him. You know what I am? I'm the last thing he needs. I don't deserve to be real. But I can't--" He chokes up. "I can't even leave without hurting him. And all I want-- Is to be with him for the rest of our life."

Syd watches Dvd fighting tears, and she understands why Dvd has been holding all this back. Even if he shared all that with David-- David doesn't remember to understand. Before, what they said to him about-- Having the best of both worlds, David's love and a fresh start-- Dvd also has the worst of both worlds. All that love with nowhere safe to go, and a lifetime of regret that-- The David they have now doesn't deserve to carry.

Divad has a similar problem, but-- He's using his regret to motivate him, so he and David can finally have the relationship Divad always wanted for them. But Dvd already had what he wants. And Syd knows how stubborn the heart can be.

"You have to forgive yourself," Syd decides, after considering his words. "Learn from your mistakes so you don't make them again. Let go of your pain so-- You can keep the good things. I know it-- Might not feel that way, but-- Dvd, you're a good thing. You're worth saving, just as much as anyone else."

"I'm nothing," Dvd says, looking away from her. "The only thing I was worth was David. And I fucked that up, I was worse than useless. I didn't just fail, I made him worse."

"And you can't forgive yourself for that?" Syd challenges. "You were trapped with a monster who tortured you, who erased your memories to make you do what he wanted."

"I'm the strong one," Dvd insists, meeting her eyes again. "I'm the one who remembers. I keep us safe."

Syd just gives him a look.

"Fuck you," Dvd says, grumpily but without much heat. He gives a frustrated sigh and looks away again.

"You don't want to be a victim," Syd says. "You don't want to be vulnerable to anyone. I get it. I had to face the same thing and-- I hated it. It was miserable. I almost-- It would have been easier for me to walk away than face that, but I don't have that choice and neither do you. We put-- So much of our worth in-- Defiance. Self-protection. We hide behind our armor, except-- For one person. But the armor's there for them, too."

Grief creases Dvd's face, and a few tears leak out. Syd knows that pain, that grief. She feels it. Even getting David back, she feels it.

"It won't go away," Syd tells him, softly. "If you're afraid that-- Letting go will mean forgetting him--" She pauses. "I lost David for a year. I lost the David he was forever. I don't think-- That grief will ever go away. It's like-- Everything else, right? All the scars, the trauma."

She pulls off her glove and flexes her hand. She feels the twinge of the wound. She shows Dvd the ugly scar on her palm, on the back of her hand.

"Once it happens, it's part of us forever," she says. "The Davids we had, that we loved-- They helped make us who we are. We'll always remember them."

"David forgot," Dvd says, mournful.

"Farouk took a lot," Syd admits. "But he's still the same David. He's always needed his system. He's always needed you. He just-- Needed to learn you again. Like-- Learning his parents' faces."

"Cherries," Dvd says, with a sad smile.

"Cherries," Syd agrees, giving him a small smile back.

Dvd takes a deep breath, lets it out. "All I've ever been is his," he admits. "All this-- Foundation work--" He shakes his head.

"You're doing it," Syd tells him. "I know it feels slow. You just want to-- Skip to the end. But-- There is no end. There's no perfect version of us that never makes mistakes. The reality is-- Both of us will hurt David again. And he'll hurt us."

"Then what's the point?" Dvd challenges.

"To be better," Syd says. "To leave behind-- The ways we hurt ourselves and the people we love. To chose our lives instead of-- Letting them be chosen for us by people who-- Didn't know what was best for us, no matter what they said."

"I don't know how else to be," Dvd says.

"Neither did I," Syd admits. "But I'm learning. I guess-- I've been staring at people, too." She gives another small smile. "Sometimes we just need to watch. Growing up, I didn't have-- Enough kindness around me. But kindness is-- What David needed most of all so-- It's here for us, too."

"David and Divad want to be like Cary," Dvd says. "And Oliver, I guess."

"Is there anyone you want to be like?" Syd asks.

Dvd shrugs. "Kerry's okay. But I dunno."

"Divad and David like-- How Cary and Oliver help people, right?" Syd asks.

Dvd nods. "But I'm not into that whole-- Doctor stuff."

"But you like protecting people," Syd points out.

Dvd sours. "Yeah, and that went great."

"Okay," Syd says, accepting. "You know, when this is over-- There's a whole world of people out there. You won't be trapped anymore. So that better way to be-- You can go find it."

That makes Dvd stop. "But David--"

"You're not taking care of him alone anymore," Syd reminds him. "And it's not all or nothing. Once we figure out how much astral projection is safe-- There's no reason why you can't go anywhere you want, with your system or without it. And then-- You'll come back home. You'll be together."

Dvd is absolutely stunned by that. He stares in amazement and then-- He opens his notebook again. He hesitates, pen over the page, and then writes for his Wish List--

Travel the world.
Meet people to find new ways to be.
Come back home and be with my system.

He shows Syd. She smiles, and he smiles back, and then-- Seems shocked at his own happiness.

"I want that," Dvd says, amazed.

"I'm really proud of you," Syd says, and Dvd beams. She's never seen him this way, not even with David.

"Wow," Dvd says, looking at his notebook again. "This feels-- Really good. This is-- Getting better?"

"It is," Syd says. "That's how-- Divad felt, when he realized he could just be himself, right?"

"I guess, yeah," Dvd says. He looks back at the garden again, and his expression shifts, becomes a mix of-- Regret and-- Understanding. Acceptance.

"I know he's healing your system's body, but-- I'm sure he'll want to listen, if you're ready to talk," Syd offers.

"Um, yeah," Dvd says, his eyes locked on Divad.

Syd watches as he walks back, a little dazed but determined. She can't hear what they're saying, but she watches as Dvd sits down at the table with David and Lenny. Divad gets up and joins them, and then Lenny leaves the table and walks over to Syd.

"You get all that?" Syd asks. Division 3 heard the conversations David had with her and the monk here, so she knew they'd get this one.

"Yup," Lenny says. She sits down on the ledge and Syd joins her. "That was good work. Ptonomy's gonna be proud."

"Thanks," Syd says, feeling a little shy about it. But she looks at the Davids together and feels-- Relief, satisfaction. She wants them to be happy. She really does.

"I wanted to be like Melanie," Syd admits. "But it wasn't-- How she helped people. She was in charge and no one could touch her. I admired that. She reminded me of my mom."

"And now?" Lenny asks.

"There isn't-- One person," Syd admits. "But I think-- What I like is-- Everyone together. People being kind, helping each other, being open. It's the opposite of everything I grew up with. This is better." She turns to Lenny. "How about you?"

Lenny sighs. "I'm just trying to not be Benny," she admits. "Or the shit beetle. Fuck, that was--"

"I'm sorry he had to do that," Syd says, immediately understanding. When David starting talking about Farouk as Lenny-- Syd felt awful for her.

"Yeah, me too," Lenny mutters.

"You wanna talk about it?" Syd offers. "I'm kind of on a roll."

Lenny chuckles. "It just-- Sucks. It's shit. I hate it."

"Yeah," Syd says, amused.

"I know he feels bad about it," Lenny admits, sobering. "But it makes it harder for me. All that shit dragged me right back with him. And no, I don't wanna talk about it."

"That probably means you should," Syd points out.

Lenny groans.

"Have you talked to anyone about it?" Syd asks, curious. "Amy or Ptonomy?"

"Pass," Lenny says.

Syd's sure that both of them must have tried to get Lenny to open up. But Lenny's a tough nut herself. Syd recalls something Ptonomy said days ago about-- Families and loners. But David made them all a family today. Or rather-- He saw how they were coming together and made it official.

"Only child, right?" Syd asks.

Lenny snorts, surprised. "Are you kidding? If my parents coulda un-had me--" She makes a motion which Syd can only assume means a return to the womb.

Syd often wondered if her mom felt that way, but direct commiseration like that will only annoy Lenny. "I never wanted a sibling," she admits instead. "I thought they'd be competition."

That amuses Lenny. "You think everyone's competition."

"True," Syd admits. "But I think-- I'm changing my mind. Gotta have an army to fight a war, right?"

"Hey, I never signed up," Lenny protests.

"I don't think any of us did," Syd says. "What's that, conscription?"

"Slavery," Lenny mutters. "You gonna stick around when all this is over? Help with this therapy thing?"

"I think so," Syd says. "You?"

Lenny makes a face. "Maybe I'll do some sightseeing with Dvd."

"That does sound pretty good," Syd admits. "But then you'll come back?"

Lenny makes a face. "Yeah, probably. If I don't David's gonna pout at me."

"Oh, he absolutely will," Syd agrees. Nothing pierces emotional armor like David's pout.

"Plus, like, David promised he'd share his giant bank account," Lenny says, and snorts. "Once Division 3 actually gets around to paying him. If they try to back out there's a lot of ultra-sensitive secrets they really hate that I know." She gives a menacing and very satisfied smirk at the nearest rooftop camera.

Consequences, Syd thinks, remembering what Clark said about having Lenny and Ptonomy and Amy in the mainframe.

"Maybe they're waiting to see how it all turns out," Syd says.

"Cowards," Lenny sneers. "Probably hoping no one walks away so they can go back to their fascist genocide. Well newsflash, assholes, I don't die. And I will fuck your shit up."

"Enjoying yourself?" Syd asks.

"I'm just getting started," Lenny promises.

"See, that's why I think you should stay," Syd says. "You know, after the tropical vacation and the world tour."

"I'm done with mental hospitals," Lenny says, firmly.

"It's bigger than that and you know it," Syd says. "We're gonna change the world. You should be part of that." She pauses. "And I want you to stay. If you didn't come back-- I'd miss you."

Lenny stares at her. Syd meets her gaze.

"You think forcing yourself to like me will save the world?" Lenny challenges.

"No," Syd says, calmly. "I think all of this has-- Forced me to acknowledge that-- You were already my friend. In Clockworks. Even if it was mostly because of David. He chose us both and-- You respected that. I didn't."

Lenny gives Syd an evaluating stare. Syd lets it happen. She's not afraid of what Lenny will see. She meant everything she said.

"Thank you for protecting me there," Syd continues. "For looking out for all of us. You didn't have to, but you did because-- That's who you are."

"It really isn't," Lenny says, a little sadly.

"Who do you think you are?" Syd asks, genuinely. "Tell me."

"I'm a mess," Lenny admits, emotion forcing itself into her voice. "It doesn't matter that I have my real memories, they don't feel like me. Fake Benny feels like me. You know, when Farouk-- When he got Oliver, I thought he'd let me go. When David disappeared and we couldn't find him anywhere in the whole fucking world—" She cuts off, strained.

"But he kept you," Syd prompts, gently.

"You know what I think?" Lenny says, grieving and furious. "I think if he let me go, that was letting David go. I don't even remember most of what he did to me, that whole year is-- Scrambled. Oliver too. But it was fucked. It was every kind of fucked. I wasn't in Clockworks because I was crazy, I was an addict and they wanted me off the streets. But in him? I lost my goddamn mind, sister. Gone. And just when I start finding it again, I start losing it because I don't have a body."

"It's getting worse?" Syd asks, concerned. "The detachment?"

Lenny doesn't answer. Syd looks over at Amy. She wonders about Ptonomy, down there with his family, trying to hold on to himself so he can save them. Cary's supposed to track their progress, but--

"Maybe I can't get back who I was," Lenny says. "But fuck if I'm going to stay what that asshole made me into."

"Amen to that," Syd says. That's something they can all get behind.

Chapter 133: Day 12: You always loved the stars. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

When they get back to the lab, Dvd finds his physical notebook in the stack on the table, then splays out on a loveseat and starts copying in his latest foundation work. Telling his system about his new wish list, seeing their excitement for the ideas, getting their encouragement-- It made Dvd feel something new.

He wants to change, to get better. Not just for David and his system, but for himself. And Divad and David want that for him, too.

Dvd glances over at his headmates. Divad and David are sprawled together on the sofa, both writing in their mental notebooks, doing their last foundation work for the day. Dvd feels a pang of jealousy at their closeness, but he remembers what Syd said. He has to push himself so he's ready for when David's ready. He knows that worked for her, he saw it. That means it's the best shot he has.

It's weird, focusing on himself, imagining being away from his system so he can get it back. But Divad said that's part of their healthy multiplicity. Listening to Divad is even weirder than imagining enjoying being on his own. But they all need to want things for themselves, so they don't-- Go back to trying to live through each other. Through David, mostly. Through Divad?

It's still beyond weird to think that what Dvd misses about their old life was Divad. But he can't shake the idea either. When he gets to his To Do list, he adds 'Process feelings about Divad' and that feels right. Maybe he'll sit with Divad tomorrow and talk to him, like Syd and David do. Just the two of them.

Wanting to be alone with Divad. Now there's a new feeling.

On impulse, he goes back to the To Do list and adds, 'Forgive Divad.' Then 'Forgive Syd' and 'Forgive Amy' and then-- 'Forgive myself.'

He stares at what he wrote.

And then, almost writing itself: 'Forgive David.'

He wants to cross it out. He has nothing to forgive David for. Obviously. But it would feel wrong to cross it out.

He tries to understand. He pulls out his paper copy of the emotion wheel and looks at the Anger section. There's a lot of kinds of anger that aren't-- Righteous fury. This isn't that, whatever it is.

'Frustrated,' maybe? Before they lost him, David was-- A mess, obviously. And Dvd had to give up everything for him. But it didn't matter because-- That was what he was for. Protecting David. Even the books said it. And he couldn't just-- Not protect David.

It's the monster he's angry with. Only the monster. He's not like Divad, getting angry at David when it's not his fault. He'll never be like Divad, he swore he'd never be like Divad.

'Resentful' stares back at him, accusing. And then he remembers-- When Mom died--

Things weren't great, before that. Of course they weren't. But they weren't catastrophically awful. And then they lost Mom and David fell apart. He kept getting worse and worse. And Dvd and Divad-- They were just kids, too. They didn't know what to do. They were grieving.

No. Divad grieved. David grieved. Dvd-- He couldn't. She wasn't really his mom anyway, because he was just a stress response. Just like Amy wasn't really his sister. Because he wasn't a real person.

Even the monster knew it.

Their throat feels tight. Dvd knows he shouldn't stress their body, Divad worked hard just to make it functional again. But he needs this, somehow. It's been hidden inside him for so long--

He wipes at their eyes. He feels his headmates watching him, listening, but he keeps staring at his notebook. He forces himself to keep going.

He's angry at David. At the David they lost. Because-- Dvd believed he had to give up everything for him. So he did. And he was angry about it. So even though-- His love was the only thing that kept David going-- Dvd was angry with him. Like Syd was angry. So the-- The armor--

Maybe that's why-- He didn't let David love him back.

Grief swells up inside their chest and spills down their face. He wipes at their eyes but doesn't fight the feeling even though it's awful. He looks at the emotion wheel and finds 'grief'. The wheel says it's part of 'despair'. He looks at the other sad feelings. 'Ashamed,' 'remorseful,' 'lonely.'

He felt so alone. And he thought-- If he just loved David more, if he put everything he had into getting David better-- Then that would make Dvd better, too. But it didn't. It was-- It could never have worked. He was-- Turned around. Like Divad said. They were pushing the wrong way.

It's awful, realizing how wrong he was. He might hate this feeling the most. The shame and-- Fear and-- Humiliation. He feels completely worthless. He hates himself.

He's been working so hard to spot David's shame attacks, he knows right away that's what this is. Or maybe it's just-- The shame that was hiding in his anger the whole time. Because he knew. He didn't want to admit it but he knew, and he hated it, but-- He didn't know what else to do.

'Helpless,' he reads, under 'fearful.' But he didn't want to be a victim. He chose to not be real instead of being a victim.

Fuck. Fuck all of that, god, what a complete fucking disaster. And he was proud of that? Fuck.

He breathes against the tightness in their chest. It's okay. They got help, it took a long time but they're not-- They don't have to be that way anymore. They're the ones in charge now, not the shit beetle. It's their life, not his. Theirs.

Dvd finally turns to face his headmates. He looks at David, looks him right in those big blue sad-puppy eyes.

"I forgive you," Dvd says, and feels-- Some of that tightness in their chest fade away.

David quirks a smile. "Okay," he says, accepting.

Dvd breathes out. He crosses out 'Forgive David.' It feels good.

And then the sadness comes back in a slow, heavy wave, and Dvd sobs. Mom. Amy. Dad. They never got to go to Dad's funeral. Dvd hated Amy so much for that.

"We should visit him," Divad says, solemn. "The cemetery. With Amy. Lets add it to our lists."

Dvd manages a nod, but he can barely see to write.

"Dvd," says Syd.

Dvd turns to look at her. He glances at his headmates, then back to Syd.

"I know David isn't ready to touch me," Syd starts. "But if it's okay with your system-- I'd like to hug you."

The surprise is enough to slow Dvd's tears. He wipes their eyes again and looks at Divad. Then both of them look at David.

David looks back, then looks at Syd, then Dvd.

'If Dvd needs this,' David thinks. 'It's his body too.' "Okay," he says, finally.

"Go ahead," Divad says.

Dvd sets aside his notebook and stands, uncertain. And then Syd carefully puts her arms around him, and rests her body against his. He can feel the warmth of her through their clothes. He carefully holds her back.

"Does it hurt?" he asks her.

"It's like touching Matilda," Syd says, and Dvd feels the rumble of her voice. "I'm okay."

It's strange, being held by Syd as himself, on a lot of levels. But they keep holding each other and it helps. Dvd tightens his hold as more tears well up, but they're not just sad tears. They're-- Relieved. Grateful. Syd doesn’t even know why he’s crying, she couldn’t, she just— Saw he needed a hug. And gave it.

When they pull apart, Dvd sees that it affected Syd, too. And David--

David obviously has a lot of feelings about the whole thing.

"Uh, hey." The Karies walk over with the base of the rocket lamp in their hands. "You guys wanna do some painting?" It's Kerry.

It breaks the tension, and Dvd feels mostly grateful for that.

"I know it's late," Cary says. "But Ptonomy did want us to get this done today. It shouldn’t take very long."

David looks between Syd and the lamp, visibly torn. Then he huffs. "Yeah, um-- Okay." He sits back, rubs his face. Divad puts a hand on his back and rubs, just like Amy does. David gives him a small but grateful smile.

"Where's Ptonomy?" Divad asks. 'He should be back by now.'

The lab door opens, but it's not Ptonomy. It's Amy and Lenny, returning from the cafeteria.

"Snacks!" Lenny announces. "And alcohol."

Oliver opens his eyes. "My drink?" He definitely sounds like he needs it.

"As soon as we get the Davids to bed," Amy promises. "Dvd, are you up to eating something?"

"Yeah, Divad fixed all that," Dvd says. He is kinda hungry. They didn't get to actually digest most of their dinner.

"Ptonomy will be back in the morning," Amy says. "He needs to rest."

Dvd notices then that Amy looks tired. And so does Lenny. Well, all of them are tired, but—

"Are you guys okay?" David asks, worried. Dvd mentally kicks himself, but he can't un-think it.

Amy and Lenny both hesitate. David notices and gets more worried.

"Being detached's rough," Lenny admits, before David works himself up. "But the research team's working on all that soul stuff, thanks to Syd. Right, Cary?"

"Oh, yes," Cary says, excited. "To be honest, I'd quite like to go help them."

"We gotta be here for the Davids," Kerry says, firmly.

"Well yes, but--" Cary starts.

"Doctor Orwell said she'll have everything ready for you tomorrow morning," Amy tells him. "First thing. But you need to rest. You're very important to all of us." She gives the Karies a warm smile.

Cary reaches up to adjust his glasses, but they're not there so he brushes back their hair instead. "Of course you're right. It has been-- A difficult day." He sobers. "First thing tomorrow."

"First thing," Amy agrees.

"Are we gonna do this lamp?" Kerry asks, impatient.

"Yes, yes, of course," Cary says. He hesitates, then hands the lamp base to Syd. "We'll get the rest."

They gather around the coffee table and share the snacks as the Karies lay everything out. Lenny cuddles up with Amy, like she did for most of yesterday.

"As you can see, all the parts are fixed," Cary explains. "All that's left is to paint it, let it dry, and then-- Assemble."

David looks at all the parts. "It's almost ready," he says, amazed. 'Does this mean we're almost ready?'

Dvd forces himself not to roll his eyes.

"Maybe it does," Divad says. "Do you feel up for more sharing practice?"

David perks up. "Yes," he says, eager.

Dvd figures it's worth them being the lamp if it makes David that happy about sharing. And David being happy makes Divad happy about sharing, and-- That makes more of the tight feeling go away.

"Silver, red, and blue," Kerry says. "You should probably paint the silver first," Cary says. "Cary, I got this," Kerry says, annoyed.

"Uh, you guys okay?" Divad asks.

The Karies make a face. It's not clear which of them is making it. Maybe both.

"Cary's a body hog," Kerry declares.

"Learning to share our body is one thing," Cary admits. "But learning to balance sharing is-- More difficult than expected. Hopefully-- This is only a temporary situation."

Dvd watches Amy and Lenny's faces carefully. They're trying not to show it, but they don't look optimistic.

"Anyway," Cary says, rallying. "Let's get started. Dvd?"

Dvd picks up a brush, but hesitates.

"Dvd?" Divad prompts.

"It's nothing," Dvd says, but then-- "I was wondering, uh-- Do we have to make it look the same?" He looks at David and Divad, hoping he didn't say the wrong thing. "It's just-- We don't wanna make the same old system, right? We're making what we need now. So--" He trails off.

David considers the idea, and then turns to the Karies. "Are there any other colors?"

"Sure," Kerry says. "Gimme a sec." The Karies get up and go back to their work area, then return with an armful of paint tubes. "Clark got us a whole set. Just in case."

"Thoughtful," Amy says, pleased. She starts sorting through the pile.

David looks the colors over, then asks, "Can we keep the blue?"

"If you like it, we should keep it," Divad says. "We're keeping the good stuff, right?"

"We could put it in a different place," David offers. "Like-- We could put blue stripes on the sides."

"Okay, so what else?" Dvd asks.

"I like this yellow," Amy offers. "It's cheerful."

Kerry picks out a green that matches Divad's shirt. "You should do yellow and green. Those are your favorite colors, right?"

Dvd and David look at each other.

"Yeah, okay," Dvd agrees. "How about-- The fins in green and the cone in yellow. Because I'm obviously the brains." He gives them a smug look.

Divad snorts, but he's pleased. "That means I'm the steering."

"How about the body?" Lenny asks. "Gonna leave it silver?"

"Silver's steel," Syd offers. "Strong, protective."

"We'll keep the silver," Dvd decides. Green, yellow, blue, and silver. It feels better, somehow. "That's a big area, so we can paint that together. Then we'll each do our own color."

"How about we take turns with your painting hand?" Divad suggests. "I'll go first, then David. You can watch us," he tells David.

David nods and sits back, attentive.

Amy hands Dvd the palette, and Dvd adds a dollop of silver. Then he holds the brush in his hand and waits. Divad sidles close and brings his hand in, and they grip the brush together.

“Weird,” Kerry says, peering at their merged wrists.

It's good that they practiced this kind of sharing earlier. Painting takes more cooperation than just pushing pieces together. But gradually their wobbly strokes straighten out.

When they’re done with half the silver, Divad pulls his hand out and moves back. "Okay David, you're up."

David sits down next to Dvd. He's still obviously nervous about sharing, and wary about holding hands with Dvd. But he's better about both than he was yesterday, so Dvd won't complain.

"Just focus on the brush," Divad says, in soothing encouragement. "You need to feel in control, right? So you take the lead and Dvd will follow." He pauses, then adds, “You want this back. So take it back.”

‘Take it back,’ David’s thoughts echo. ‘I want this. I need it. I can do it.’

Dvd waits patiently as David works up his courage, brings up his hand, and then--

They’re together. Like yesterday, but— Not for just a second at a time, in a desperate rush. Their hands are together inside their body and David is letting it happen.

“How’s it feel?” Lenny asks.

“Like someone’s in my hand,” David admits, voice and body tense. ‘Separate the feeling from the fear,’ he thinks to himself. ‘Make the good strong and the bad weak.’

Despite his determination, this is obviously hard for him. Dvd glances at Divad, worried.

“Stop when you need to,” Divad says.

David tries to stay, but a few seconds more and he pulls out. He’s trembling, frustrated, already angry at himself. Maybe trying to do this now after everything else is just too much.

"David, it's okay," Dvd says soothes.

"It's not," David says, tersely. "I don't-- If I could just-- Forget him-- We could share. I wouldn't--" He cuts himself off.

'Please don't ask for that,' Divad thinks, upset.

"I'm sorry," David says, tiredly. "I just-- Want this to be ours. I want--"

"We want it, too," Dvd says. "We're getting there, okay? Forget about the painting. Look at us. You know what I did today? I got better. And so did you, and so did Divad. Right?"

David nods.

"That's what this is about, not that fucking lamp," Dvd tells him. "I know it's important, but-- It's not more important than you."

Dvd puts everything he feels into the look he gives David, and David-- Softens. Calms.

"Or you," David says, quietly.

It's been a while since David looked at Dvd that way, like-- He's something precious. Like looking at him gives David joy instead of pain. It makes Dvd feel like-- David is the light bulb in his lamp.

Dvd wants so much to learn from his mistakes. He wants this time to be better. He wants them to love each other with-- Trust, honesty, and respect.

'I want that too,' David thinks. And then he holds out his hand to Dvd.

Dvd looks at it, a little confused, and then-- He lets their arm down and brings his own arm out of it, and takes David's hand. Holds it.

'I forgive you, okay?' David thinks to him. And Dvd can see that he does. He's holding Dvd's hand and he's okay. He's not upset, he's--

Dvd can't help it. He leans out of their body and hugs David tight. There's a thump as the top of their body falls back against the sofa, but it's fine. Divad might give him shit for it later but it's worth it because David's holding him.

They finish painting the lamp the old fashioned way, by taking turns with their body. Dvd finishes the silver and yellow, and Divad does the green. When it's David's turn to do the blue, he takes up the brush and then stops.

"David?" Divad prompts.

David shakes his head. He dips the brush in the paint and then hesitates. "Did I know how to paint before?" He looks around the table, then back at the rocket. "Because I feel like I know how to paint."

"Well, you've certainly used a brush," Amy offers. "But when you were young you were more interested in-- Astronomy, chemistry. Biology." She looks at Divad for that one. "Was it something you learned it Clockworks?"

David starts to say no, but then-- "Yes. In-- The fake Clockworks, where I thought-- I was bipolar."

"That's right," Syd says. "You made my portrait. It was really good. But I don't remember you painting in the actual Clockworks."

David looks at Lenny. She isn't happy about it.

"So can you paint?" Divad asks.

David looks back at the rocket. He starts painting-- Perfect little blue stars, expertly done, in constellations with streaking comets and cosmic swirls. Everyone stares, but David doesn't notice as he's caught up in the work, his strokes eager and natural.

And then the spell breaks. He almost drops the lamp in shock, but Syd's the closest and she catches it. Their fingers touch, and that seems to shock David almost as much as the painting. They get the rocket on the table and David sits back, reeling.

"What the hell was that?" Dvd asks.

"Oh!" the Karies says. They slap the table in excitement. "No, I wanna tell him," Kerry says. "David, you still know how to paint."

"Obviously," Dvd says. "And?"

The Karies reach for Cary's missing glasses again, as Cary takes over. "Farouk must have given you the procedural memory in the fantasy Clockworks. As part of the illusion. But he never had the chance to take it back. So the skill, the-- Muscle memory and apparently the artistic ability-- You still have them."

David stares at the Karies. "So you're saying-- Farouk just-- Made me a painter."

Cary hesitates. "You have the ability to paint very well. You also have-- The visual imagination necessary for art. But you may have already had the second part. It simply needed-- A suitable outlet."

David stares at the rocket.

"Perhaps-- This is something you could have developed on your own, with the right environment," Cary offers. "But given your family's focus on the sciences and health-- You never thought to try."

"It's beautiful," Amy says, looking at the rocket. "You always loved the stars."

Everyone looks at David, waiting for his reaction. David just keeps staring at the rocket, and then finally he looks up. He isn't happy.

"David," Divad starts, worried.

David holds up his hand to stop him. "Did I paint that?" he asks, finally. "Was that me or was it-- Can he paint, Farouk? Is this his?" He looks to Lenny again.

"Yeah, it was his," Lenny admits, roughly. "But guess what? He gave you a lot. He gave me a lot. Most of it's shit. But it's ours now. Someone teaches you something, it's yours."

David still doesn't look happy.

"You liked it, right?" Lenny challenges. "Kid, we all saw it. You want this to be yours? Then make it yours. You think Farouk would paint whimsical stars on a kid's rocket lamp?"

David shakes his head.

"Then it's not his," Lenny tells him. "Right? Say it."

"It's not his," David tries.

"Whose is it?" Lenny says.

David clears his throat. "Mine. Ours."

"You built that with your system and us," Lenny says. "You got something good out of that asshole? Use it to stop him. Use it to save yourself so you can save us." She stares at him, needing. "I need you to save me, okay?"

David stares into Lenny's wide brown eyes. "I will," he promises, quietly.

Lenny slumps, relieved. Exhausted.

They set the lamp aside to dry and clean up. Syd and David and the Karies get ready for bed. Oliver keeps relaying, waiting for permission to drink.

David gives Amy one last, long hug before bed. He silently promises to save her, too.

"Maybe this time-- You should let me remember," David offers, when they strap the sleep inducer to his head.

"Ptonomy said that would be entirely inadvisable," Cary says. "We have to make the most of the time we have."

David accepts that. "We'll put the lamp together tomorrow?"

Cary's smile is soft. "We will."

If it wasn't for the fact that David knows what it means to sleep, he'd already be out, he's so exhausted. But there's just as much fear as determination in his eyes. Dvd wishes he could lie down with him and hold him in their body to comfort him, but David isn't ready for that.

Divad does his thing, and David fights it, afraid, but he can't resist.

"He's out," Divad tells them. He turns to Dvd. "Our turn."

Dvd steps back in first. The few seconds he has with David this way-- He'd endure any torture for them. Dvd is working hard to change, but-- He'll never stop loving David with all his heart. He just can't.

And then Divad joins them and-- It feels right, all three of them together, facing the monster. That's how it was at the beginning, and now--

"We're ready," Divad says, and Cary switches the inducer on.

Chapter 134: Day 12: She has a heartbeat. (Amy)

Chapter Text

Amy's brothers are resting in a deep, healing sleep. She wishes they could do the same for her, put an inducer on her head and just make her sleep.

God, she's tired. How long has it been since she slept? It must be weeks now. It feels like forever. It feels like-- She's forgetting what sleep even felt like. She remembers lying in her bed, drifting off and waking up again, but it's-- Like the memory is fading away from her. And she's not sure if she cares.

She looks at the Davids. She's starting to wonder-- If it's worth all this effort to keep caring about them. Today was so hard. Grieving over Ben took so much out of her, and now--

She doesn't want to let go. But she doesn't know if she can keep holding on to herself much longer.

"Amy?" Syd asks. She sounds worried.

"Oh," Amy says, looking up. "Sorry, I was just-- Drifting--"

That only makes Syd more worried. She looks over at Lenny. Lenny's slumped in the chair on the other side of the Davids' bed, looking as exhausted as Amy feels.

"Cary," Syd calls.

After a pause, the bathroom door opens. Kerry's head peeks out. "Is something wrong?" Cary asks.

"Tell me the research team can help them," Syd says, gesturing at Amy and Lenny.

The Karies look, and Cary frowns deeply. "Just give us a moment," he says, and they disappear back into the bathroom. They come out again, dressed in pajamas. The Karies look at Oliver, who's very focused on his drinking.

"Someone needs to stay with Oliver and the Davids," Cary says.

"Oh, I can--" Syd starts.

"No," Cary says. "Doctor Orwell will explain, but-- You're the one they need right now."

Syd tenses. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as we can be with any of this," Cary says. He sounds tired, too. "I was expecting to spend today working on this, but--"

"I'm-- Sorry again," Syd says. "About this morning."

"So am I," Cary says, heartfelt.

"We'll be okay," Kerry says, interrupting. "I'll take care of Cary and Oliver and the Davids. You take care of Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy. Deal?"

Syd eases. "Deal."

Kerry gives a firm nod, then starts shooing the three of them away from the Davids. Amy would prefer not to leave them, but-- It doesn't feel important that she stay.

When they leave the lab, Clark's there to meet them. He takes Amy's arm. She gives him a smile. "An escort? How nice."

"Ptonomy's already waiting for us," Clark says.

"How bad?" Syd asks, as she helps Lenny.

"Bad enough," Clark says. "The research team's racing the clock. They need more time but we don't have it."

"Great," Syd mutters.

"On the bright side, you can't make things worse," Clark offers. "No bodies to blow up."

"Thanks," Syd grits out.

They reach the lab. Doctor Orwell is examining Ptonomy, asking him the same questions the three of them get asked every night to track their detachment. Showing him pictures meant to stimulate their emotions: laughing babies, nature, people crying, violence, bloody horrific wounds--

Normally Amy dreads the test, but tonight-- The thought of seeing those terrible things barely bothers her. Perhaps she's just getting used to it.

"How does this make you feel?" Doctor Orwell asks, pointing to an image of a baby with a ragged wound across its face.

"Horror," Ptonomy says. "Disgust."

"On a scale from one to ten?" Doctor Orwell prompts.

"Four," Ptonomy admits.

"Do you want to help the baby?"

"It should be in a hospital," Ptonomy says. "But I don't-- Feel like I need to help it myself."

Doctor Orwell sees Syd and looks relieved. She stands up, then takes Amy from Clark.

"Amy, how are you feeling?" Doctor Orwell asks.

Amy shrugs. "Tired."

"Lenny's tired, too," Syd says.

"The human mind isn't meant to stay awake for weeks on end," Doctor Orwell says. "They need the one thing we can't give them-- Plenty of sleep in their real bodies."

"You think my powers can help?" Syd asks.

"That's what we're hoping," Doctor Orwell says. "We've been studying the results from your swaps this morning, as well as Cary's temporary reunion with his physical projection. Quite honestly this is-- Decades' worth of research--"

Amy's attention drifts, and catches on the flashing lights on the machines. Doctors always need so many machines. Shouldn't-- Cary be here? Oh that's right, he's-- Inside of Kerry.

"--with the Karies this morning," Doctor Orwell continues. "It has to do with-- Let's call it-- The surface tension of the soul. We have so much to learn about all of this. But the soul is real, with measurable effects on the world. And mutant powers, at least the few we've been able to study-- Change the properties of the soul. Enable things like-- Projection. Swapping. Greater resilience to detachment syndrome."

"Wish I had some of that," Lenny sighs.

"So what happened to the Karies?" Syd asks.

"Surface tension," Doctor Orwell explains. "Think of the soul as water. It's possible for small objects such as-- A paperclip-- to sit on top of water without falling inside, even though it's heavy enough to sink. That's the result of-- Internal, cohesive forces that pull the molecules of the water together. The stronger the cohesion, the more difficult it is for--"

A paperclip sitting on water. Amy thinks she remembers that from-- School. What grade was it? She vaguely recalls-- A glass filled to the brim, the water-- Higher than the glass but-- Not spilling over. It had-- Made her think of David. Floating when he should be on the ground. Impossible. But the paperclip floated.

David. She's supposed to stay for David. She struggles to-- Stay in the present. Listen.

"--cohesive forces that help them maintain themselves, even when they have no body, no physical container," Doctor Orwell says. "These forces are elastic, to some degree. That allows the soul to stretch, as we see with the Karies and the Davids. But the pain Cary and Kerry described from their extended separation, the pull they felt to reunite-- Eventually those forces grow too strong to resist."

"Maybe Cary should be down here," Syd offers.

"He needs rest," Doctor Orwell says. "We'll have all this ready for him tomorrow. And more, if this goes well."

"Does the surface tension explain the explosions?" Clark asks.

"Yes," Doctor Orwell says, pleased. "All of them. Let's start with the Karies. The soul is anchored to its originating body. How we don't know, but-- Cary and Kerry's mutation allows them to create a second body, a physical projection, and then stretch the soul to inhabit that projection. Touching Cary caused no reaction because— His soul wasn’t anchored to that body."

"So we couldn’t swap," Syd says. “And Kerry?”

"When you touched Kerry,” Doctor Orwell continues, “your powers tried to-- Encapsulate the Karies' soul, to protect it while it was inside of your body. This forced their soul to snap back together, releasing a burst of intense energy. And the sudden loss of Cary's soul removed the-- Animating force from his physical projection."

"We are our souls," Ptonomy says, distantly.

"We've done further tests on plants and animals," Doctor Orwell continues. "It appears that-- The soul is literally the animating force of all life. These are-- Astonishing revelations that have the potential to--" She calms herself. "If Cary had already been inside of Kerry when you touched them, you would've experienced-- A fairly normal swap, though there would have been two minds inside your body. The danger came from their soul not being unified."

"Okay," Syd says, taking that in. "So I have to be careful not to touch-- The primary bodies of-- Separated souls."

Doctor Orwell nods. "Which brings us to David. The explosions you experienced with David-- Obviously we don't have any useful data from those incidents, but-- we'll run a test once we can get all the Davids united while they're still conscious. Our best guess is that the Davids' soul has an incredibly strong cohesion. That might be why Farouk was unable to take over their body without their consent. Avoid any skin contact with Oliver or Farouk. Their power levels aren't as high as David's, no one's is, but they'll likely be enough to knock you off your feet."

"Good to know," Syd murmurs.

"So how does all of that help us now?" Clark presses.

"The encapsulation," Doctor Orwell says. "That acts as a kind of-- External cohesive force on a disembodied soul. It's function is to prevent the swapped soul from interacting with the body, Syd, but-- It could also strengthen the cohesion of any disembodied soul."

The door opens and a Vermillion marches in, followed by the Admiral and another Vermillion.

"Admiral," Syd greets.

"Sydney Barrett," one Vermillion greets. "Doctor Orwell, you may proceed."

"We were just about to set up," Doctor Orwell says. She motions to the research team and they hurriedly prepare machines around two exam chairs. "Syd, please have a seat."

Syd takes one chair, and the other-- The Admiral takes that one.

One of the researchers guides Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy to sit out of the way. Amy watches, but-- She doesn't feel much one way or the other.

"What do you need me to do?" Syd asks, determined, wary.

"You're going to swap with the Admiral," Doctor Orwell says. "And you're going to hold it as long as you can."

"But won't that--" Syd starts.

"Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy's souls aren't in their androids," Doctor Orwell explains. "They're in the Admiral. The mainframe protects them from the cohesive forces of the Admiral's soul and body, but it can't strengthen their internal cohesion. That's up to you. When you swap, we believe that-- Your powers will encapsulate each soul individually."

"You believe?" Clark challenges. "And the risks?"

Doctor Orwell hesitates. "It's possible that-- The encapsulation process will-- Break the surface tension on their souls and-- Fuse all four of them together."

"Jesus," Syd mutters.

Clark crosses his arms. "We'll need approval for this. The mainframe--"

"We don't have time for politics," Doctor Orwell says, tersely. "You know that."

Clark sighs. "If this goes wrong--"

"There is a twenty-two percent chance that our souls will be fused," a Vermillion states, musically.

"And a, what seventy-eight percent chance of complete success?" drawls Clark.

"Nineteen," the Vermillion replies. "There is a two percent chance of an explosion. A five percent chance of--"

Clark holds up a hand. "You know what? Don't tell me."

The Vermillion cocks its head, but keeps silent.

"Syd," Doctor Orwell says, sobering. "Even if it all goes right, this swap is going to be-- Very strange for you. Admiral Fukuyama's body is-- Deeply modified. They have a hive mind, lived through the Vermillion. And for this to work-- We need you to hold the swap as long as you can."

"I can do it," Syd says, bravely. "I won't let them down."

Doctor Orwell comes up to Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy. "I wish the odds were better, but this is the best chance we have. We've done everything we can to help your souls remain coherent. But physical stimulation and-- Emotional connections-- At this point they're no longer enough. Do you understand?"

"Fucking do it already," Lenny says.

"Ptonomy?" Doctor Orwell prompts.

Ptonomy rubs at his head. He drops his hand and sighs. "It's worth a shot."

"Amy?" Doctor Orwell prompts.

Amy finds herself distracted by the flower print on Doctor Orwell's shirt. "Sunflowers," she sighs, pleased by them but-- Not sure why.

Doctor Orwell gives her a sad, understanding smile. "We'll get you better, okay?"

"Okay," Amy echoes.

"Let's do this," Doctor Orwell orders. There's another flurry of activity as Syd and the Admiral are hooked up to the machines, and then everyone goes quiet. And then Syd reaches for the Admiral's hand and then-- And then everything--

And then Amy is pulled. Some enormous force pulls her along and then holds her. Something thunders in her ears, and she slowly realizes-- It's a heartbeat. She has a heartbeat. She breathes in and her chest rises, falls. She's alive.

She opens her eyes, but then-- Someone else closes them. And then someone else opens them.

"What--" her mouth gasps. And then: "So small. Fuck!"

"Admiral?" Clark prompts, concerned.

"Syd, talk to us," Doctor Orwell says, urgent.

Amy's head turns, and she sees-- Herself and Ptonomy and Lenny all-- Slumped over, unconscious. Her head turns the other way and she sees-- The Admiral, body tense, basket off, eyes wide with-- Horror? Amazement? Shock?

Amy tries to make her mouth work. Everything feels so strange. What were they doing again? She looks down at herself and sees-- This isn't her body. It's-- It's Syd's body. Oh.

"My head," the Admiral gasps. No, that's-- That's Syd inside the Admiral's body.

"Just keep holding the swap," Doctor Orwell urges. She turns to Amy. "Ptonomy? Lenny? Amy?"

"This is fucked," Syd's mouth says.

"Lenny," Clark says. "Looks like we avoided the fusion."

"Fingers crossed," Doctor Orwell murmurs. "Admiral?"

"Present," Syd's mouth says.

"Ptonomy?"

"I'm here!" cries Syd's mouth.

"Amy? Everyone else let her speak," Doctor Orwell says.

Amy tries again, and finally she can move Syd's mouth. "I'm here," she gasps.

"She's in the worst shape," Doctor Orwell says to Clark. "By the time she's recovered, Lenny and Ptonomy should be fine." She turns back to Amy. "Amy, we're going to do the image test again. That's how we'll know when you're better. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Amy manages. She feels dizzy, disoriented, but-- "I think-- It's easier to-- Concentrate."

"That's excellent," Doctor Orwell says, relieved. "Everyone else just hang back. Try to relax, let Amy be in control."

Syd's head nods itself. Her body gradually relaxes, not all together but in bits and pieces, like each soul inside Syd's body claimed a patchwork for itself.

There's a brief lull as Doctor Orwell checks the machines. "Okay," she says, and takes the image cards from one of the researchers. "Okay, here we go.

She shows Amy image after image, some simple, neutral, and others-- Upsetting or emotional. Long minutes pass, but gradually-- Amy starts to feel-- Coherent again. She feels like herself. At least as much as she can be herself when she's sharing someone else's body with two other people and a hive mind.

God, she actually-- She stopped caring. She can't believe she stopped caring. God, poor Oliver-- To be stuck like that for so long--

A few tears leak from Syd's eyes.

"Amy?" Doctor Orwell prompts. "What are you feeling right now?"

"Empathy," Amy says, and sniffs. "For Oliver. We have to help him."

"That's wonderful," Doctor Orwell says, smiling. "And how do you feel about-- Ben?"

Amy's face crumples.

"Give it a rest already," Syd's mouth says.

"Lenny," Doctor Orwell says. "How do you feel?"

"Ready to kick some shit beetle ass," Lenny declares.

"Ptonomy?"

"It better not be too late to save that baby," Ptonomy says.

"Regret, compassion, self-awareness, continuous memory," Doctor Orwell says. She turns back to Syd. "Syd, can you hear me? You can let go now. Release the swap."

Syd doesn't respond. The Admiral's body is taut, with a sheen of sweat.

"Syd?" Doctor Orwell calls, worried. "She's not responding."

"Oh," says a Vermillion, and everyone turns and looks.

The two Vermillion are moving, looking around at the room and down at themselves. Their expressions are blank, their movements halting.

"She's in the Vermillion," Ptonomy realizes. Syd's body starts to stand, and then sits back, and then stands. They take a step towards the Vermillion. "Syd? Talk to us."

"I--" both Vermillion start.

Clark covers his ear, like he often does when he gets a message through his audio implants. His eyes go wide. "Uh, she's not just in these Vermillion. She's in all of them."

"I see everything," the Vermillion say, in a kind of-- Flat astonishment.

"Yeah," Ptonomy says. "Yeah, you do. Pretty weird, huh?"

The Vermillion give a single, slow nod.

"You know, when I-- When I first went in there-- I got lost, too," Ptonomy says. "It's all so-- Vast. The Vermillion, the data feeds-- But the Admiral helped me find myself again. Your body is waiting for you, Syd. You have to come back to it."

The Vermillion look at Syd's body. "It's too small. I don't think-- I'll fit anymore."

"Of course you will," Amy says, taking control. "You're always you, remember? Syd is-- Always Syd. Right? Please, Syd, let go."

The Vermillion just stare at them.

"Fuck this," Lenny says, taking control. She marches them up to one Vermillion. Both Vermillion stare at them in blank fascination.

"I had to live in that thing, too," Lenny says. "I know your body sucks but-- You don't want this. You want to be Syd. So fucking be Syd."

And then--

Amy reels as the enormous force pulls at them again. Some-- Indescribable pressure releases her, and she's-- In a different body. A living, male body.

"Shit," Lenny says, as they stare down at the Admiral's hands. "Wrong body."

"Admiral, you need to move them back into the mainframe," Doctor Orwell says, urgently. "If they're not protected--"

The Vermillion in the room blink. "We are resolving the situation. Please wait."

An agonizing pause, and then-- Another pull, this time moving them deeper. Amy tastes electricity. The first time this happened, she had no idea what was being done to her, but now--

Having been in living bodies again, she feels it. The mainframe. She feels herself reconnect with the circuitry, the data flow. It's-- Comfortingly familiar by now, this surreal, strange space. She sees it manifest around her, around them, herself and Lenny and Ptonomy all standing together in the virtual space. They all step towards the wall and reach out and then--

Her android opens its eyes. Amy opens her eyes. She's back. "I'm back," she breathes. She doesn't have lungs but the android simulates breathing, for the sake of her soul's coherence.

Syd groans, holding her head. She's in the other seat now.

Doctor Orwell checks all five of them over. Syd's unsteady, her head sore, but otherwise-- The treatment was a success.

"We'll see how long this holds," Doctor Orwell cautions. "It's not a cure. We'll have to do everything we did before to slow your detachment. But it should buy us some time."

"Syd, thank you," Ptonomy says, heartfelt. "I feel much better."

"Our hero," Lenny teases. But she means it.

"Thank you so much, Syd," Amy says. "Can I give you a hug?"

Syd nods. She steps into Amy's embrace and-- Holds her back. Relaxes, sighs. Doesn't let go. Amy doesn't mind. She'll hug Syd for as long as she can.

Chapter 135: Interlude V: I don't want to be David. (Past David)

Chapter Text

David wakes with a strangled scream. He reaches for Amahl, for the only thing that helps the nightmares-- But he's alone. He opens his eyes. He's panting, sweating, adrenaline already souring and leaving him shaky. And then he remembers-- Last night--

Last night, Amahl pushed their beds apart.

David messed up with Syd. He made the wrong choice, he-- He ruined things, like he always does. Every time he gets the slightest chance to make a decision on his own, he fucks it up. That's just what he does. Divad knew it. Dvd knew it. Amahl knows it, he's been cleaning up David's messes for months.

Divad. Dvd. David misses them so much. Even if they were the monster's masks, even if they were just another trick-- He misses them so much.

He curls in on himself and tries to stifle his sobs. The nightmares are always awful, but when he slept with Amahl it was better. When Amahl held him it was better. Like when Dvd held him--

Dvd. He begs for Dvd to come back, but it's pointless. Dvd is never coming back because Dvd was the monster. And Amahl pulled him out and destroyed him.

It's wrong, he knows it's wrong but-- Right now David hates Amahl for that. Just a little. So even though-- He could probably still go to Amahl, wake him up and be comforted-- He doesn't. He just-- Lies alone in his bed, miserable, until dawn.

He hears Amahl and Melanie wake up and start their day. David closes his eyes and keeps his mind quiet so Melanie won't know he's awake. He smells Amahl's coffee brewing and his throat goes tight with grief.

A hand rests on his arm. David tries not to flinch.

"David," Amahl says, softly. "Our coffee is ready. Come."

The hand stays as David holds very still. Finally David opens his eyes. They must have known he was awake, seen right through his pathetic attempt to hide it. He should have known better. With Melanie around, he can't have privacy, secrets. It reminds him of Dvd and Divad and he hates her a little for that.

"David," Amahl says, this time with less patience. "We have work to do."

The hand goes away. David can feel Amahl standing there, waiting. David reluctantly sits up, turns to him.

Amahl gives him a considering look, then goes to the table and sits with Melanie. They have their coffee in front of them but they don't pick it up. Amahl gives David an expectant look.

David puts on his robe and sits down at the seat where his own coffee is waiting. It's exactly like Amahl's coffee, without cream and sugar. No more á la David. Dread sits heavy in David's stomach.

"Drink," Amahl says.

David drinks. It's so bitter he can hardly stand it, but-- It doesn't matter what he likes, what he wants. Amahl decides for him. That's how they work. Things go wrong when David forgets that.

"Syd will arrive with our meals soon," Amahl tells him. "Would you like to spend some time with her today?"

Is this a test? David doesn't know what the right answer is. Maybe he should tell Amahl he doesn't want to see Syd again. Maybe he shouldn't have an opinion. Maybe he should just-- Accept whatever he's given. That's the only thing he's good at.

"The right answer is the truth," Amahl says. "David, I'm not angry with you."

David gives him a disbelieving look.

"I was angry yesterday," Amahl admits. "But I understand. I forgive you."

"Then why--" David starts, but cuts off.

"I have been-- Indulgent," Amahl says. "With you, with myself. Syd reminded me that we are here for a reason. I am your doctor and you are my patient, and-- The work must come first, before what we want for ourselves."

David meets Amahl's eyes and sees how much he means that.

"I know this has been-- A rough morning for you," Amahl continues. "Perhaps I changed too much at once. To not hold you close-- For you to be David and not my joonam--" He puts his hand over his heart, and David feels the absence of Amahl's hand over his own heart.

"I don't want to be David," David pleads.

Amahl gives a soft gasp. "Ah, but you must be. Until you become my key. And then-- We will no longer be-- Doctor and patient. We will be only what we want to be."

David feels like he's starting to understand. "What do I have to do? So I'm ready?"

Amahl’s pleased by that. "Melanie?" he asks, turning to her.

"We'd like you to spend time with Syd," Melanie says. "You're ready for an increase in socialization. It's also time you saw your family. It's been almost a year since your surgery. They must miss you very much."

David is happy to be with Syd, but his family-- "They want Divad, not me," he says, looking away.

"You're their flesh and blood," Melanie points out. "We'll explain what happened and they'll understand. They'll love the real you, not the illusion."

"Is that it?" David asks, hoping that will be enough.

"No," Melanie says. "I know that-- Our sessions together have been very difficult for you. But there's much more we need to do together."

"We must prepare your mind," Amahl tells him. "As we did the wounds on your arms. We stopped the bleeding, sealed the wounds, but they must be taught to heal the right way."

David looks down at his scars. He thinks about Syd and her gloves. About-- Acceptance.

Amahl gets a thoughtful look. He puts down his coffee. "Come here. Show me your arms."

David feels a tiny spark of hope. He almost holds his breath as he gets up and walks over, sits down next to Amahl. He holds out his arms, offers his scars.

"Wounds do not stop being wounds," Amahl tells him. "Your skin will never be what it was before. But this--" He strokes over David's forearms, traces the faded scars. "Do you remember what I said?"

David tries to recall. It feels like forever ago. "We had to-- Remodel the wounds. Right? Stop them from clumping up."

Amahl takes hold of David's left arm and aligns his thumbs. He pulls at the skin, releases and pulls. The scars don't really bother him anymore, not physically, but the pulling makes them hurt again. David tenses, but he long since learned not to pull away.

"Good," Amahl praises, and David feels a rush of relief so intense it makes his eyes damp. He relaxes into the pain and sees Amahl's approval increase. "This is the work, David. It will be painful. We must-- Remodel the wounds of your mind. But once that is done--"

Amahl adjusts his grip, and switches from stretching to massaging. At first it hurts more, but then it feels good.

"Yes," David sighs, grateful.

"Beautiful," Amahl murmurs. His fingers dig harder, hurting and soothing all at once. Then he stops and holds David's arm, one hand over where he worked, covering the scars. Then he releases it and takes hold of David's right arm and starts to stretch it. David looks up and meets Amahl's eyes and--

What was it? The expression Amahl taught him? "Del be del râh dâreh," David says, the words still awkward to say, but-- Heartfelt.

Amahl lights up with happiness. His fingers dig deep, painful, and David smiles back through the pain. Amahl massages harder, harder, until David finally whimpers, keens as he forces himself not to pull away.

And then Amahl eases, soothing again.

"Very good," Amahl praises. "Very, very good." He leans forward and places a kiss on the left arm's scars, and then on the right. Then he sets David's arms down.

"You will drink what I drink," Amahl tells him. "You will eat what I eat. No more-- á la David. Do you understand?"

"Yes," David says.

"Where are you safe?" Amahl prompts.

"With Amahl," David says. And Amahl reaches out and rests his hand over David's heart. David brings his own hands over it, cradles it. He never wants to let go.

§

"Morning, Dad," Syd says.

"Ah, let me help you," Amahl says, rising to meet her. He takes their food from her and leaves her with her bag. He puts one stack of covered bowls on the table, then heads for the door. "I'll go put these away."

David watches as the door closes behind Amahl, locks itself. It's always strange to be apart from Amahl, even for a few minutes. Is this-- Part of David's punishment? No, Amahl said he wasn't angry. But David feels anxious when Amahl isn't close. Everything's fine, obviously everything's fine, Amahl forgave him, he wouldn't have left at all if it was-- If anything was wrong.

Syd's looking in her bag, and then she looks up. "Morning, David. Mom."

"Morning, Syd," Melanie greets, warmly. "It's so nice to finally have you in the lab with us." She holds out her hand as Syd approaches, and Syd takes it, clasps it.

"I'm glad David's finally ready for me," Syd says, and lets go. She sits down and takes out a notebook and a stack of printouts.

"What's all that?" David asks, curious.

"You," Syd says, amused. "Mom and Dad keep me busy with all the data they've gathered."

"Oh," David says. "Can I-- Uh, can I see?"

"Absolutely not," Syd says, certain. "That would taint the data."

"Oh," David says. He wouldn't want to do that. He already almost ruined everything with Syd, he doesn't-- He can't risk that again.

"Perhaps you should keep doing your work in the other lab?" Melanie suggests. "To be safe."

"David won't look, will you, David?" Syd asks. She gives him an expectant look. "Otherwise I won't be able to spend much time here. And that would slow down your therapy."

"I won't look," David promises. He doesn't want any of that. He sits back and looks away from the papers. Breakfast. Breakfast is safe to look at. He looks at the door. Amahl should be back any second.

There's a rustling noise and David glances at Syd to see her putting her work back into her bag. David's stomach drops.

"I swear, I won't--" he starts.

"It's okay, David," Syd soothes. She closes her bag, sets it aside. "I shouldn't work during meals anyway. That's our time to be together." She gives him a reassuring smile.

"That's right," Melanie agrees. She starts setting the table. "Meals are family time."

David tries not to latch on to the suggestion that he's part of their family. He's their patient, he shouldn't-- They're his doctors. That's all. Where's Amahl? He needs Amahl.

There's the soft beep of the card reader, and then Amahl walks back in. David instantly relaxes. He watches Amahl walk back to his chair, sit down. David wishes they were closer.

"Wonderful," Amahl declares, as he looks around at them. "Everyone together at last. Let's see what we have today." He lifts the lid to reveal-- Some kind of bean stew?

"Ful medames," Amahl declares. "A favorite breakfast from my time in Egypt."

David uncovers his own bowl and a waft of richly-scented steam rises up.

"Can you guess what's in it?" Amahl asks.

David considers his meal. Amahl has been teaching him to identify spices, ingredients, to help him adjust his palate. "Lemon," David reports, breathing deep. "Cumin, garlic."

"Good," Amahl encourages. "What else?"

"Some kind of pepper?" David guesses, seeing the red stain on the beans. "What kind of beans are these?"

"Fava," Amahl says, pleased. "And olive oil and tahini. Very good, David."

David smiles, relieved. It's a little thing, but earning Amahl's approval-- He thinks about what Amahl said, no more á la David, and he feels ready for that. Amahl's right, it's time for him to step away from the kiddie table.

The ful medames tastes good, but the kick makes David's eyes tear. He coughs and gulps at his water. Amahl, Melanie, and Syd all look on, amused, and dig into their bowls without any trouble. David promises himself he'll do better, and keeps eating even though his whole mouth is on fire. He thought he'd been adjusting to the spicy foods Amahl likes, but it must have all been-- Spicy á la David.

He sees Syd smiling at him fondly, and his stomach flutters, and not because of the pepper. He's too flushed from the spice to blush, and he's glad for that.

Patient and doctor. They can't-- It doesn't matter what he feels, what he wants. He can't ruin things again. He stares down at his bowl and tries to just-- Not think about Syd.

Breakfast ends and Amahl cleans up, then steps out again. David's anxiety immediately spikes.

"David," Syd says. "It's time for your shot, okay?"

David finally looks up. Syd's holding his medication. He needs his medication, he has to-- Amahl should be here for this, it's important-- Amahl is the one who gives him his medication.

Except Syd did, yesterday.

"Now that it’s safe for you to see me, there'll be some changes," Syd tells him. "I'll give you your first shot and my dad will do the second. I'll be helping with your tests. And I'll be giving you your afternoon massage."

That makes David straighten with alarm. "I don't--" he starts, definitely blushing now. "That's a-- Bad idea--"

"Because you like me?" Syd challenges, calmly. "Because you'll be aroused?"

God, David wants to sink through the floor. "Yes," he says, strained.

"Do you know what my specialty is, David?" Syd asks.

David shakes his head.

"Touch therapy," Syd says. "Touch is so important. Most people don't even think about it, but-- If we don't have enough, we get sick. Touch calms our anxiety. It makes us feel safe and nurtured."

David finally meets her eyes.

"I know you're scared," Syd says. "But it'll be okay. Me and Mom and Dad-- We know everything about you. We know everything you think, everything you feel. You have to trust us to take care of you."

"I do," David insists, tightly. "But I don't-- Trust myself."

"Of course you don't," Syd soothes. "You're sick. But you trust your doctors, right? You trust us. You trust me."

David barely knows Syd.

"You trust Mom and Dad," Syd counters, responding to his thoughts. "And they trust me. That's enough, right?"

"Right," David echoes. It should be enough. Amahl and Melanie-- They know what's best for him, obviously. And Syd's been here this whole time, helping them, studying-- Everything about him. So she-- Has to know what's best for him, too.

"That's better," Syd says, pleased. She reaches out and touches her gloved hand to his arm, strokes it. David swallows.

"I'd like you to get to know me," Syd says. "I'd like us to be friends, like-- You and Dad are friends."

"No," David says, forcing himself to look up from her hand. "Amahl said-- We have to be-- Doctor and patient."

"That doesn't mean we can't be friends," Syd says. "You agreed yesterday, remember?"

David nods, remembering-- She said that. Doctors and patients can still be friends. And he wants that. It's just-- Confusing. Knowing where the line is, what's okay and-- What's not.

"You don't have to worry about that," Syd assures him. "If you're not sure, just ask us. We'll tell you. And trust that everything we do to you is okay. We won't put Dad's work at risk."

That helps David feel a little better. After yesterday, after this morning-- He's just-- He doesn't want to make another mistake. He doesn't want to ruin everything. And he's terrified that he will.

Syd hushes him, keeps stroking his arm. "You need your medication. Will you let me give it to you?"

David nods.

"Good," Syd soothes. "Roll up your sleeve."

David obeys. He shifts so she has full access to his upper arm. She wipes his skin with an alcohol pad, then steadies his arm.

"Just a pinch," Syd soothes. And then the needle slides in, and--

David feels a rush of relief as the medication pushes into him. Syd dabs the injection site and then massages his arm to encourage the medication to circulate, and it quickly start to work. This dose feels stronger than yesterday’s. Or maybe it's his imagination?

“It’s a stronger dose,” Syd answers.

"Is that-- Bad?" David asks. Usually they were-- He was given more medication because-- It wasn't working.

"It's very good," Syd says. She's still holding his arm, rubbing slow circles. "We had to go slow, make sure your body would accept it. That's part of all the tests we do, my analysis. Now we know that-- We can bring you up to the level we need." She sees his concern. "You feel better, right?"

Davids nods. "It's just-- Am I always going to need it?" Even though it helps so much, he still-- He hates having to take anything. He worries what it will do to him.

"For now," Syd says. "Maybe-- Because the monster was so much of you. And now it's gone. Like-- Losing a limb. The medication is-- A sufficiently therapeutic prosthetic."

David thinks about that. "And there's no way to-- Give me a new limb?"

Syd tilts her head. "You wouldn't want the monster back, would you?"

"No, no, of course not," David insists, but he feels-- A flutter in his stomach. It must be the spicy food. "I just thought-- Being Amahl's key-- One day I won't-- Be sick anymore. I'm supposed to help him-- Cure madness, right?" He looks at her, hopeful and uncertain.

"Of course," Syd says. "And his cure-- That's what's going to make you whole again."

"And then-- I won't need medication?"

"If it works, if-- You're ready," Syd says. She's holding his forearm now, stroking over his scars. "He'll take all this pain away."

"And then I won't be sick?" David asks, needing.

Syd just smiles at him.

David feels like he went too far. "I'm sorry. I just--"

"It's okay," Syd says. "You've had a lot of change since you met me. You had a routine, you felt safe, grounded, and now-- Things are different. That's hard for you."

David nods.

"You know, I've been a part of your life for as long as Dad has," Syd says. "When he was operating on you to save your life-- I was there, observing. Watching over you."

She's reached his hand now, and she holds it. David cautiously holds her hand back, and it feels like-- It's okay for him to do that. They sit together, just holding hands, looking at each other. And then Syd takes one hand away and reaches into her bag, pull out a notebook. She puts it on her lap and opens it, and David looks away. He hears pages flipping, and then-- The notebook is placed on his lap.

"You can look at this page," Syd tells him. "It's okay."

David looks down at his lap. It's a drawing, a sketch. "It's me," he realizes. He's asleep in a hospital bed.

"I used to visit you," Syd says. Her other hand returns to hold his. "I'd sit by your bed, keep you company, tell you about my day. It's good to talk to coma patients so they know they're not alone. And sometimes I'd draw you."

It's a good likeness. It's so strange to see-- This part of his life he can't remember. But Syd remembers. She was there.

"Close your eyes," Syd tells him.

David closes them. He feels her pick up the notebook and hears the flip of pages. Then the notebook is back.

"Open them," Syd tells him.

David looks down. It's another sketch of him, this time a close-up of his sleeping face. It's-- Strikingly intimate.

"Can I-- Touch it?" David asks.

"Go ahead," Syd says.

David touches the page, feels the pencil lines. This is-- Himself, but-- Through Syd's eyes. She sat with him. So he wouldn't be alone.

And he realizes-- He was alone.

"My family," he starts, and looks up. "Did they come? To the hospital?"

"They were there for your surgery," Syd says. "And right after. And then-- A few times."

"I was in a coma for months," David says. It never really sank in until now. He's been so focused on just-- Trying to exist, to get through each day-- Dad and Amy-- "I should see them. My family." Even if the David they loved is gone, the-- The Divad mask is gone--

Maybe--

It's been a long time, but-- They used to love David. Maybe now that he's better, with the medication and-- With Amahl--

He misses them. He's missed them for a long time, he just-- Didn't think it mattered.

"Of course it matters," Syd says. She gives his hand a squeeze. "This is a big step, David. Dad will be very proud of you."

David feels a lightness in his chest. He squeezes Syd's hand back, hopeful.

There's a soft beep and the lab door opens. Amahl walks over to David and brushes a hand through David's hair, cups his cheek. It feels like a reward. David can't help but lean against Amahl's palm, just a little. He feels-- Held, between Amahl and Syd. He feels safe.

"It's time for your tests, my dear," Amahl says. "Get undressed, put on your gown, and we'll begin."

Chapter 136: Interlude V: Dad's gone. (Past David)

Chapter Text

There are five places set for lunch today, in the garden. David was allowed to help Syd set the table while Amahl brought their meals down from the lab. He adjusts the paper plates and plastic utensils again, trying to steady his nerves, and Syd gives him a knowing look.

"Everything's fine," Syd assures him. She reaches up and rubs his back, urges him to settle. Her gloved hand caresses his shoulder, down his chest, then moved to his arm. She rests over his scars for a long moment, then her hand takes his.

"They're your family, David," Melanie soothes. "You don't have to hide from them."

David swallows and avoids looking at his arms. "I know," he says, but his voice wavers.

Dad and Amy know what he did. They know about the suicide attempt. Amahl told them when it happened, he had to. And now they'll see the scars and--

And that's not the worst of it. They know from the surgery that-- The monster was real, but-- They don't know about the masks. About Divad. They don't know that the David they loved was-- An illusion. The monster's creation. Melanie thought it best that-- David be the one to tell them himself.

"Maybe it's too soon," David tries. "I'm not-- Ready for this." He feels like a failure, admitting it, but--

"You're just nervous," Syd tells him.

"Of course I'm--" David cuts himself off. He looks for Amahl, but he's not back yet. "Maybe you should have-- Maybe I need another shot."

"David," Melanie says, her serious tone drawing his focus. "This is an important step in your therapy. Admitting the truth to them will help you accept it yourself."

"I do accept it," David protests.

"Then you shouldn't have any trouble telling them," Melanie says.

David feels somehow that that's not right, but-- He can't find the words to explain. Maybe Syd's right, maybe he's just nervous and-- Working himself into a state. Divad always-- No. The monster always--

"We're right here, okay?" Syd soothes. She takes her hand away, but only so she can give him her other hand and rub his back.

David's only known her for a few days, and he already doesn't know what he'd do without her. Especially because-- Amahl barely touches him anymore, except for what's necessary for his tests and treatments. If it wasn't for Syd's touch therapy--

Motion catches David's eye, and he looks up to see two figures approaching. At first he thinks it's Amy and Dad and then-- He realizes it's Amy and Amahl.

"Look who I found," Amahl says, smiling.

Amy stares at David for a long beat. Syd gives David a push, and he stands up, steps towards her.

"Hey," Amy says, and gives him a sad smile. She opens her arms. David hesitates, but-- Steps into them, lets her hold him, and-- Holds her back.

Amy. "It's been so long," he says, muffled against her hair. He can't believe she's here.

Amy pulls back to see him. "You're looking better."

"Well, I'm awake," David jokes. "Um. Where's Dad?"

Amy's expression falls, but she doesn't answer. She looks down and sees-- The scars. David tries to hide them but she takes his arm, holds it, her fingers digging in. David winces but she holds on for a moment before letting go.

"Amy?" David asks, uncertain. Is she-- Angry? He can't tell. He misses being able to read her mind.

But his powers weren't his powers. Was what he heard-- Actually her thoughts or-- What the monster wanted him to hear?

"Syd, Melanie," Amy says, turning to them. "It's good to see you again."

"Please, have a seat," Melanie says, gesturing.

Amy steps away, leaving David feeling-- Bereft. Does she know he's not Divad? She couldn't know. But then why--

"David," Syd says, and gestures at his chair.

David sits down. He looks across the table at Amy. He looks at the empty seat where Dad should be. Why isn't he here? It was Dad he wanted to see most. Of course he wanted to see Amy, but-- He has so many questions that Amy can't answer.

He looks at Amy again. He hoped she'd be-- Happy to see him. Or relieved, or-- But it just feels-- Like she doesn't want to be here at all.

"Where's Dad?" David asks again.

"David," Amy starts, reluctant.

"He should be here," David insists, upset at the thought that-- Dad doesn't want to see him at all. Dad used to get so angry when David got in trouble, but-- David knew he was scared that someone would figure out that David was a mutant. Dad was always worrying about that. David thought that-- Dad would be relieved to hear the truth. It would make everything okay. But he's not here. And Amy never knew.

"He's dead," Amy says, abruptly. Then she softens. "Dad's gone."

"No," David says, faintly. Dad was alive when David was brought to the hospital. If Dad died-- Someone would have told him. Amahl would have told him. He looks to Amahl, desperate.

"When did this happen, my dear?" Amahl asks Amy, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Months ago," Amy admits, and a few tears streak down her face. "I should have told you, but--"

Melanie hands Amy a tissue, and Amy takes it, dries her eyes.

"He can't be dead," David insists. He can't be. David never-- He never got to talk to Dad again, to-- To apologize, to--

"He's gone, David," Amy says, almost-- Accusing. David stares at her, completely at a loss.

"How did it happen?" Amahl asks.

"Ever since Mom died, his health was-- It was hard for him to go on without her. David's schizophrenia, all the trouble and-- The arrests, the doctors—" She pauses, overcome. "When David got better so did Dad, but-- The seizure, the surgery-- His heart was weak. And then--" She pauses again, and looks at David directly, and-- There's hate in her eyes. "You tried to kill yourself."

David feels faint. "No," he says, weakly.

"The shock was too much," Amy says, grieving and furious.

"You're lying!" David shouts, leaning forward, just as upset. "I want to see Dad!"

Amy just shakes her head.

"No!" David sobs. He seizes on the only thing he can. "I didn't have schizophrenia. It was the monster in my head-- It wasn't my fault! The monster--"

"It's true," Amahl tells her. "There was-- Something living inside him."

That calms Amy down. "The-- Thing you took out of him? That caused the seizure?"

"And his madness," Amahl says. "David, would you like to explain?"

David rubs at his eyes, struggling to collect himself. He needs Amy to understand. He lost Mom and Dad and-- Divad and Dvd and King-- Amy is all he has left.

"You have to understand," he tells her, voice thick with emotion. "There was something in my head, it-- Tricked me and abused me and-- Made me think I'm something I'm not."

"What does that mean?" Amy asks, wary.

"My schizophrenia," David starts. "It wasn't real, it was-- The monster tricked everyone by-- Making me hear things, see things-- And it made me think that-- That I was sick, that-- That I had-- That there were-- Other parts of my mind that-- Could help me."

"Dissociative identity disorder," Melanie explains. "Multiple personalities. But David doesn't have DID."

"King," David says, in a rush. "They were like King, my-- Imaginary friends. But they were--" He swallows. "They weren't my friends. And I let them-- I shared everything with them, I--" His throat is almost too tight for him to speak. "I trusted them. And when I-- Couldn't go on--"

He tries to say it but he can't. He's trembling, flushed, face wet with tears.

"The monster took charge," Amahl explains. "For portions of David's life, especially the last few years before his seizure, he was-- Absent from himself. The David you knew, in that time-- Was not your brother at all."

Amy stares, shocked. "You're saying that-- David wasn't David?"

"Not always," Melanie says. "For extended periods throughout-- Most of his life-- And then-- For the years leading up to his seizure-- The person inside of David took him over completely."

"That's crazy," Amy says.

"They must have told you about the monster, when-- I was in the coma," David insists, strained.

“They took something out of your head,” Amy says. “Some kind of parasite, but—" she shakes her head, denying. "Maybe you really do have DID."

"No," David insists. "I don't have DID! I'm not crazy! Why do you always think I'm crazy?!" From the way everyone is staring at him, he’s gone too far. But he can't help it. "You never believe me. I told you about the monster so many times and you just-- Pitied me and upped my meds. Meds I didn't need!”

“You were sick,” Amy defends. “You’re still sick. David, you’re in a hospital. You’re not well.”

“I’m getting better,” David insists. “They’re helping me, I’m— I’m finally just me, for the first time in my life. Why can’t you be happy for me?”

Amy looks away, visibly tired. “David, none of this makes sense. I don’t know how you managed to— Convince your doctors of any of this—”

“They told me!” David explodes, outraged. “I didn’t want to believe it! I wanted—” He chokes. “I wanted my friends to be real. Divad and Dvd. They had names! They were— They seemed so real—“ He wipes at his eyes but it doesn’t help, he's crying too hard.

Amy gives him a pitying look, and somehow that's the worst thing she could have done. He hates her pity, he's always hated it, he just needs her to understand him and believe him for once in their lives but she never will, she never loved him the way Mom and Dad did, she was always too afraid of him, of the powers he had to hide, of his sickness.

David was so upset because he was afraid Amy loved Divad more than him. But the truth is worse.

"Do you know what the monster did to me?" David challenges. "It made me think that-- I could read minds. Hear people's thoughts, your thoughts. And I heard-- How much you resented me. You hated having to take care of me, I was-- A burden. That's what I heard. Was that the truth? Did you-- Do you love me at all?" The question is pleading, needing.

"Of course I love you," Amy says, but she doesn't seem happy to say it.

"Then believe me," David presses. "Believe my doctors, they have-- Scans and tests and--"

He trails off, seeing-- She's not listening. Of course she isn't. Amy always-- When there was something she didn't want to know, she just refused it. She always has.

"Why didn't you tell me about Dad?" David asks her, pleading.

Amy's expression hardens. "Because you killed him, David. All these-- Insane stories and-- All the times you hurt yourself, hurt other people. You broke his heart and-- He just couldn't take anymore. Neither could Mom."

"No," David protests. "I tried to save her, with my powers--" He trails off. They weren't his powers. He's not a mutant. It was all just another cruel trick, thinking-- He could save her. He could never save anyone.

Amy looks away from him, like she can't stand the sight of him. Like he makes her sick. He can't hear her thoughts. Maybe he doesn't have to. Maybe he never did. The truth was always right in front of him, but-- He didn't want to believe it. Just like Amy.

"Mom and Dad-- Sacrificed everything for you," Amy says, with quiet anger. She turns to face him. "That's what they taught me to do. But I can't--" She lifts her chin. "I have to take care of myself. I have to live my own life. I won't let you destroy me the way you--" Her voice wavers with grief, and she turns away, tearful.

"Amy," David pleads, heart breaking, shattering.

"I'm going to tell you something," Amy says, with sudden courage. "Mom and Dad made me keep it secret but now-- You need the truth."

"The truth?" David echoes, warily.

"You're not my brother," Amy tells him, defiant. "Mom and Dad-- Were never your parents. You were adopted. And taking you in was the worst mistake of their lives."

"Adopted?" David says, reeling. "No, I would have-- I would have heard--" Their thoughts. If Amy knew, if his parents knew-- They would have thought it and he would have--

But he's not a mutant. He doesn't have powers. He can't read minds. And here's the proof, undeniable, as if the huge mountain of proof wasn't enough. Because if he really was a mutant, he would have known.

It hits him like a physical blow, the truth. All of it. God, it's all true.

Amy stands up. "You're not my brother," she tells him again. She looks at Amahl, Melanie, Syd. "Don't believe a word he says. He'll kill you, too." And then she turns and walks away.

§

David doesn't remember anything after that. Everything just went blank and numb and-- Somehow they got him back to the lab, put him to bed. He's vaguely aware that-- They tried to comfort him, but-- He wouldn't accept it. Couldn't.

His whole body hurts, like-- The shattered pieces of his broken heart are ripping him to shreds. And he deserves it. Of course he does.

He killed Dad. He killed Mom, he-- He ruined Amy's life and now-- They're done. She never wants to see him again. She hates him.

His family is gone. He'll never see any of them again. He didn't even get to go to Dad’s funeral. He didn't-- He'll never get to talk to him again, or sit with him and watch the stars--

David sobs, inconsolable. He wants to die. He knows he can't.

He drifts into an exhausted stupor, and wakes the next morning somehow feeling even worse. Syd and Melanie and Amahl take turns trying to reach him, but he's trapped in some-- Impenetrable fog of numb despair. If he could will himself to stop breathing, he would.

He's felt like this before. A lot of times. Maybe not this bad, but-- This hopelessness is bleakly familiar. But he always had Dvd and Divad to help him. To give him a reason to live, even though he knew-- It was never going to stop. The torture.

The monster's gone and the torture still won't stop. Because that's what his life is. That's all it will ever be. His life will never change, it doesn't matter what's inside him. He only heals so he can suffer. That's what he's for.

More time passes. He refuses to eat. He sleeps only from sheer exhaustion, and then shallowly, restless, his nightmares somehow worse than ever even though-- They can't reach him.

Eventually the fog starts to recede. David tries to pull it back but he can't, and as the numbness fades, the pain gets worse. He weeps for hours, faintly noticing-- Syd touching him, stroking his hair, his arm, his back. She should run away from him and never look back. But some small, surviving piece of his heart is glad she's here.

She reminds him of Dvd, and that small piece shatters.

The fog pulls in again, suffocating, and then-- He comes back to the familiar sound of hospital machines. He feels an IV in his arm. He struggles to open his eyes.

"David?" Syd calls.

David's throat is parched. He tries to speak but all he can manage is a croak.

"Hold still," Syd tells him. A damp cloth dabs at his eyes, his lips. It goes away and comes back to his mouth again, dripping wet. He sucks at it, beyond thirsty.

"Easy," Syd says, and takes the cloth away.

David opens his eyes. His whole body feels stiff and sore. "What--" he rasps.

"You went away," Syd explains. "For weeks. Like you used to, but-- The monster wasn't in your body to take care of it. We had to put you back on the machines."

David lies still, taking all that in. He can't even go away without making things worse. But as awful as that realization is, the numbness is receding. It always does, eventually. He doesn't know why he can't just-- Stay gone, but-- Here he is again.

He always used to keep going for the sake of his system. But he doesn't have a system anymore. He doesn't have a family. He has nothing. He is nothing.

"I'm sorry about what happened," Syd tells him. "We all are. We won't let Amy near you again, okay?"

It's not okay. Nothing's okay. Dad's gone. Like Mom. And he couldn't even say goodbye.

Tears leak from his eyes. Syd wipes his forehead with the damp cloth. Like Mom did when he was sick. And Dad would-- Sit by his bed and read to him--

More tears pour out of him and there's nothing he can do to stop them. His breathing hitches. He realizes-- They have him in safety restraints. Because they knew what he'd try to do when he woke up. And he would, even though-- His body feels so weak.

It must be over now, all of it. The whole idea that David could ever-- That he could help anyone-- It's just absurd.

Syd hushes him. "Nothing's over."

David's surprised. Melanie's still here?

"Of course I am," Melanie says, moving into view. "We're all here."

David looks and-- There's Amahl. David swallows.

Amahl steps up to the bed and reaches out. He cups David's cheek, wipes at the tears with his thumb. "Did you think I would ever let you go?" he asks, gently.

David stares up at him, wordless.

"Never," Amahl promises, fervent.

David leans against his palm, feeling-- Some nauseating mixture of dread and relief. Amahl still wants him?

"Of course," Amahl answers. His hand slides down, never losing contact, then coming to rest over David's heart.

Instinctively, David wants to cover Amahl's hand with his own. But he's strapped down.

"Free him," Amahl says. Syd and Melanie each remove a strap from his wrists. David's arms are weak when he lifts them, so they each take a hand and help it to where it belongs.

"Your family is gone. Let them go," Amahl tells him. "Stay with us. Be my key."

David wants to. But everything hurts.

"Everything?" Amahl challenges, gently. His hand presses firm over David's heart. "No, joonam. Not everything."

Joonam. David meets Amahl's eyes, hopeful.

"Perhaps it's wrong," Amahl says, lightly. "Perhaps we should be only-- Doctor and patient. But I cannot lose another son."

More tears leak from David's eyes, but now-- Somewhere in the grieving bleakness is a spark of hope. Of joy, love, belonging.

Amahl's other hand reaches up to David's cheek, strokes it, cups it. David leans against it. He focuses only on Amahl, on his solid, grounding touch.

There's a word in David's chest, stuck deep but trying to work its way free. It's been there for a while, waiting, but now--

There's no reason to hold it back anymore.

David swallows, swallows again. The word rises up inside him, needing to be said. He looks up at Amahl, at his tender, possessive expression. David knows, then-- He doesn't have to be afraid.

"Dad?" David rasps, offering.

Tears well in Amahl's eyes, tears of happiness. Amahl lets him go, but only to pull him up into a hug and hold him so close.

"My son," Amahl sighs, heartfelt, and David holds him back.

Chapter 137: Interlude V: Father and son. Husband and wife. (Past David)

Summary:

TW: Rape by deception, general consent issues, pseudo-incest.

Chapter Text

The soft beep of the card lock makes David's heart leap in his chest. He tries not to show too much excitement, he tries to stare down at his coffee instead of at the opening door. But the moment Syd walks into the lab, the only thing he can do is look at her.

"Morning," Syd says, cheerful.

"Morning," David manages, shyly.

Syd gives him a knowing glance as she puts down her bags. As usual, Amahl takes the food, fishes out their breakfast, then takes the rest out of the lab. David watches as Syd gets settled, puts her files down at the computer terminal for later.

David gives a sigh of contentment. The coffee mug is warm in his hands. Their breakfast smells richly spiced, and now-- That smells like home. This home, the only home that matters. He takes a sip of his coffee. It's strong, bitter, but-- That's how it should be. It's what he needs.

"How did you sleep?" Syd asks.

"The usual," David admits. The nightmares are as strong as ever, but-- Vaguer now, more-- Shapeless fear than-- Reminders of a past he only wants to forget. He wakes, clinging to Amahl in their shared bed, and Amahl holds him close, takes the fear away. He's always safe with Amahl.

His attention is pulled back to the present as Syd returns to set the table. David helps her. It's one of the few things he's actually allowed to do. His eyes barely linger on the flimsy plastic knives at all.

He's better now. He's better. He just has to-- Keep rebuilding his strength. And then-- He'll be useful for more than just-- Passing out paper plates and napkins.

Syd's hand covers his. He didn't realize it was shaking until she steadied it. He focuses on her touch and it calms him.

Syd gives a small, pleased smile, and she sits down. David sits, too. If she keeps holding his hand, one of these days he won't be able to let go. At least if he's holding Syd's left hand when it happens, she’ll still be able to hold a fork and write.

Syd's amused by his thought. "You're worth the risk," she assures him.

David hopes she's right. He hopes--

Amahl returns. They settle in for breakfast together. Family time, David thinks, glad. Even though he's--

No. Don't think about it. If he just-- Doesn't think about it-- It doesn't matter. What matters is this, it's now, it's-- What he's going to be. It's getting better so he's useful. So he's worth all of this, all their time and care and-- It just has to be worth it.

He looks at the flimsy plastic knife next to his plate. But he doesn't take it. Because he's okay. He's okay.

Syd's hand settles on his back. He focuses on her touch. Her touch helps so much, even now that-- Amahl touches him again. Holds him. He shouldn't-- It feels selfish to need both of them. One should be enough. One was enough with--

Amahl's hand settles on his shoulder. David turns and sees Amahl's calm expression. He looks back at Syd's calm expression. Everything's fine. He breathes in, out. He takes a bite of his food. The intense flavors are-- Distracting. He lets them distract him. He eats more.

"Amahl," Melanie says. "David's making very good progress, don't you think?"

"Absolutely, my dear," Amahl says, pleased. "And I believe we have Syd to thank for that. Her presence has truly had a 'positive effect.'"

"Thanks, Dad," Syd says.

"Syd, darling, you've helped David so much," Melanie tells her. "I think-- Perhaps it's time."

Syd seems to understand immediately.

"Time?" David echoes, unsure.

"For something more intensive," Melanie explains. "A more advanced form of touch therapy.”

David’s not sure he likes the sound of that.

Amahl chuckles. “We’ll start this afternoon, with your massage. Syd?”

“I’m ready,” Syd says, confident. "Don't worry, David. Everything's fine." She reaches up and cups his cheek, caresses down his neck. Strokes him again. David swallows.

And that's the end of the conversation. There's no point in him asking for an explanation. He's just a patient, still, to Syd and Melanie. He's still a patient to Amahl. And if he knew too much, it would ruin things. He can't risk ruining Amahl's work. Especially now that--

He thinks, for a moment, of everything he's lost, and it's so much he can barely breathe. He blinks at the tears in his eyes and reminds himself that-- He just has to get through this. As soon as he's ready, he'll be Amahl's key and then-- Amahl will take all the pain away. Like he takes the fear away after David's nightmares.

David just wants to be better. But there's only one way he'll ever get better. If Syd's-- Intensive touch therapy-- Will help with that-- Then it's fine. It's fine.

"Okay," David says, accepting. And Amahl and Syd and Melanie all smile, pleased, and-- David knows that means he's doing the right thing.

He tries not to think about it anyway, through the morning tests, through lunch, even through his short session with Melanie. He hasn't been up for much talk work since-- But Melanie said it's okay. She said-- Sometimes getting better feels like getting worse.

And then it's time. He goes behind the screen and strips down, wraps the towel around his waist. As always, he hesitates before he walks out from the screen. Shy, Amahl calls him. Syd just gives him an expectant look, patient but unyielding. They’re his doctors. All he has to do is let them help him.

He steps out from behind the screen, and when he sees her-- He can't stop how he feels.

Whenever he looks away from Syd for more than a few minutes, and then looks back at her-- The sight of her entrances him. She makes him-- Nervous and excited and flustered and-- He just wants to be with her all the time. He's never felt this way about anyone before. And she's so-- Different from him. Even though they're almost the same age. She's focused and calm and in control, she has a family and a job and he--

He doesn't know if he wants her or wants to be her. Maybe both. Definitely both. But he definitely can't think about that. He's her patient. That's all.

David obediently lies down on his front. Syd lifts away the towel, then drapes it back in place. David is tense, like he always is at the start. He always was with Amahl, too. Amahl is in the room, of course, sitting a few feet away with Melanie, and David can feel his gaze as almost-- A physical touch. But it's Syd whose hands get to work on his body, wringing the stress from it with the same punishing force Amahl used.

It hurts. David wishes-- It would only hurt. Pain is easier than--

But it's always the same. After the pain comes a euphoric glow, a warm contentment that fills David from head to toe. Syd touches him entirely and David is putty in her hands. And then--

"Time to turn over, David," Syd, says, softly. She lifts the towel, and David musters the strength to turn onto his back. And Syd sees--

What she always sees. His arousal. He burns with embarrassment and shame, his whole face and chest red hot.

"It's just your body healing," Syd reminds him, like Amahl always did. "Lie still. Let it happen."

She lays the towel back down, finally, giving him-- The barest privacy. Not that he has any. Not that he's ever had any.

He calms a little as Syd continues the massage, unbothered. His embarrassment eases but doesn't go away. With Amahl, he could accept his arousal as-- Purely physical, but-- With Syd--

It's all tangled up, with Syd. With how he feels for her, with-- The way she makes him feel. Every time he looks at her. Every time she smiles.

When she gets to the end, David allows himself some small relief. He still has to lie here, exposed, until his body calms itself, but-- The worst is over. And then--

Syd moves back up his body. She puts her hands on him and-- Caresses him. Not a massage, not at all like a massage, and as David goes very still, her hand drags down, down, to his hip, and then under the towel.

He can't help it. He flinches back, but then-- Syd's hand grips his inner thigh, a strong hold, and David goes still.

"Shh, it's okay," Syd tells him, calmly. "This is just part of your treatment. Right Dad?"

"Of course," Amahl says. He stands up, walks over. Stands on the other side of the bed. "Intensive touch therapy. Relax, joonam." He pets David's hair, then caresses down the side of his face, his neck. His hand comes to rest over David's heart. "You are always safe with Amahl."

Despite everything David's feeling, he can't refuse this. He haltingly brings his own hands up to cover Amahl's. He feels the weight of Amahl's palm flush against him, a steady pressure holding him down. "I'm-- Safe with Amahl," he tries.

"Again," Amahl orders, gently.

"I'm always safe with Amahl," David says, certain this time. His anxiety eases.

"Very good," Amahl praises. He strokes David's forehead and hair with his other hand. "Are you ready to let Syd give you your treatment?"

David hesitates, but-- Gives the only answer he can give. "Yes."

Syd releases her grip, pulls her hand away. She moves closer and touches David's cheek, strokes it. David feels surrounded, almost-- Trapped. But they're just-- Taking care of him. Helping him, like they always do every day, all day long. And Syd looks down at him with-- Such a calm, pleased expression-- Just like Amahl's--

He's okay. He can do this.

Amahl gives one last press against his heart, and then he lets go, steps away. Moves back to his chair to-- Observe. David looks at him for a long moment, and then-- Looks back to Syd.

"You and Dad are so close now," Syd tells him. "A son, to replace the son he lost. A father, to replace the father you lost."

Grief squeezes David's heart. "Yes," he admits.

"It's been hard for me, watching you," Syd continues. "I know he loves me. I'm his daughter. But the way he loves you-- And-- The way you love him--"

She places her gloved hand over David's heart. David's breathing goes shallow.

"I know how you feel about me," Syd says. "I hear it every day, in your thoughts. I see it in your eyes. You have such-- Expressive eyes. Full of love for our Dad. For me. But I couldn't let myself have you." She pauses. "You've never had sex with anyone. Except-- For the monster. Right?"

David can't begin to process that. "We didn't-- I mean-- We-- He--" He swallows. "Sometimes it-- Made me feel good, but--" The Dvd mask. The monster wore it and-- Made David think it loved him. It controlled his body and used it to make David-- To make him calm, compliant.

"It took care of you, gave you pleasure," Syd says. "When it was King, it loved you very much. I think-- Some part of the monster felt for you the way I do."

"You think-- It loved me?" David asks, wary, confused.

"You loved the monster," Syd says. "When someone gives you that much love-- You have to love them back."

And then she leans down, unhurried, and kisses him. David freezes under her, shocked, and then-- Melts. She's kissing him. He's kissing her back. He can hardly believe--

She breaks the kiss, pulls back. David is lost in her eyes, in her lips. He wants to kiss her again and never stop.

Syd touches a gloved finger to his lips, hushing him. Then she straightens up and-- Starts to undress. David's eyes go wide, and he looks over at Amahl and Melanie, but-- They're just watching, like this is completely normal and fine.

David looks back at Syd. She's taken her shirt off and folded it neatly, set it aside. She's toeing off her shoes, removing-- Her tights, her skirt, and now--

He stares directly up at the ceiling, not daring to look anywhere else. He hears the rustle of fabric, and then-- He can't help but glance. And then he can't look away.

She's naked. Syd's completely naked. Except her gloves. Somehow that only turns him on more. God, he's so painfully hard.

In response to his thought, Syd looks down at the towel. She lifts it away, folds it neatly, places it with her clothes.

Is this happening? David feels dizzy, lightheaded. This can't be real. He must be dreaming, but-- He never has dreams like this, only nightmares and fear and--

"I'm your doctor, David," Syd tells him. "That means I can touch you, but-- You can't touch me. But now-- That's going to change. Do you understand?"

David doesn't, but-- He wants to.

"I'll show you," Syd promises. And she cups his cheek, caresses down his neck, his chest. She kisses the base of his throat, once, and then-- Takes his arm and caresses his scars. Kisses them, planting soft kisses along their ragged length. And then she brings his hand to her breast.

David feels the soft, heavy weight of her in his hand, and it's like it wakes him up. He paws her, too roughly at first, but she's patient and he eases. He tries to sit up and she pushes him back down.

"Stay," Syd tells him, and David stays.

She takes his hand from her breast and guides him to caress her. Her skin is soft and warm, and he feels her breathing against his palm. And then the curve of her belly, the soft trail of blonde hairs--

His breath catches as she cups his hand over her pussy. She's wet, slicking his fingers. He dares to bring his fingers up-- And she gasps in pleasure.

"Syd," David breathes, needing. He reaches up inside her, greedy, and she gasps again. He has no idea what he's doing but he's never wanted anything like he wants to make her gasp. "Syd," he says again, wondrous, pleading. He needs her so much.

Syd grips his hand like she wants to force it deeper, but pushes it away. David tries to reach for her and she forces his arm flat on the table.

"You're still my patient," Syd reminds him. "We have to do this right, okay? Otherwise we could set you back."

"Okay," David echoes, remembering-- This is a treatment. And Amahl and Melanie are right there, watching. "What do I-- What do I do?"

Syd looks past David to Amahl and Melanie, seeming to-- Look for permission. She gets it, and then--

She climbs up onto the bed, crawls over David, and then sits, her thighs straddling his waist. "Just do what I tell you, okay?" she says, looking down at him.

David manages a nod. He remembers Syd breaking into the lab and-- Wanting to obey her. That's still what he wants.

"Good boy," Syd says, pleased by his thoughts. She cups his cheeks again, leans down and kisses him. "Kiss me back," she murmurs, and he does. They kiss and she touches his face and his hair and his neck.

Eventually Syd breaks the kiss, pulls back to look at him. "Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?" she asks him.

"Yes," David says, eagerly. "Please?"

Syd gives him a considering look. "I'm not your girlfriend. Just like Amahl isn't really your Dad. But we could be. We could become--" She kisses along his jaw. "A real family. Father and son. Husband and wife."

"Wife?" David echoes, stunned.

"We could be one, just like-- All married couples should be," Syd says, and the words are familiar. Amahl said something like that, about Melanie.

"She is part of me, and I am part of her," Amahl says. "Would you like to be one with Syd, joonam? Would you like to become-- A Farouk? If you married my daughter, you would truly be my son."

The need David feels in response to that is so strong it hurts. To belong with them, to be truly a part of their family, to be-- Loved and safe with them forever--

Not David Haller but-- David Farouk?

"That's a lovely name," Syd praises. "Say it out loud."

David swallows. "David Farouk," he tries. It's strange, but-- It feels good. It feels right. He wants it, he really does.

"And once you're Dad's key," Syd tells him, "you won't have to be David anymore. You could be-- Joonam. Would you like that, Joonam?"

The way she says it-- It feels less like an endearment and more like-- A name. His name. He can leave David Haller behind forever. He doesn't want to be David.

"I want it," David says, heartfelt. "I want to be Joonam." Joonam Farouk, Amahl's son, Syd's husband. For the first time, he can actually-- See a future for himself. As part of them.

"Say your name," Syd says. "The name we'll give you."

"Joonam Farouk," David says, and that feels-- Perfect. Yes. He wants it so much, with everything he has.

"A beautiful name," Amahl sighs. "Don't you think so, my love?"

"It's wonderful," Melanie praises. "I think that deserves a reward, don't you, Syd?"

"Tell me you want to be ours forever," Syd tells David. Her blue eyes are sharp with hunger.

"I want to be yours forever," David promises.

"Me and Dad?" Syd prompts.

"You and Dad," David answers.

Syd moans, even more than she did when David fingered her. She closes her eyes, bites her lip. Then she sits up, looks down at him, and fingers herself. David stares at her hand, entranced.

"Tell me your name," Syd demands.

"Joonam Farouk," David says. He clutches at the bed, wanting to touch her so much but-- She hasn't said he could.

Syd groans. She rubs back against his erection, which is so full it curves to meet her. Even that small touch is enough to make David gasp and squirm.

"Tell me your father," Syd demands.

"Amahl Farouk," David gasps.

"Do you want to be one with us?" Syd challenges.

"That's all I want," David swears, straining. "Please."

Syd shifts above him. She reaches back, takes hold of his cock. "Promise me," she demands. "Promise you mean every word."

"I swear," David cries.

Syd stares deep into his eyes, searching for some hint that David doesn't mean what he says. But it's the truth, all of it. He'll do anything for them, anything.

Satisfaction comes over Syd's face. And she rises up and then--

David cries out as she sinks down onto his aching cock. He's been so aroused for so long it hurts. But the wet heat of Syd's body is the only thing that matters.

"Touch me," Syd orders, and David rises up, embraces her, kisses her the way he desperately needs to. They moan into each other's mouths as they caress and paw at each other, as Syd rides David and David thrusts his hips up into Syd. He feels like they could literally become one if they could just get close enough, and it feels like they're trying. He sobs with joy and pleasure and gratitude and relief, moaning Syd's name, moaning Amahl's name, moaning Joonam, and Syd moans in exquisite joy, triumphant, claiming.

Neither of them can last. They've waited so long for this, both of them. Syd wraps tight around him, holding him inside and out, raking David's back even through her gloves. And the pain pushes David right over the edge.

He sobs as he comes, pouring into her, wanting to pour all of himself into her forever. Wanting to just be hers and Amahl's and lose himself in them forever. To never be David Haller again.

Syd screams and goes stiff, pulls him in so tightly. He can barely breathe but he doesn't care.

They collapse together, deeply entwined. Syd kisses him, still hungry but soft, easing. Her body throbs around him, and he swears he can feel their hearts beat together, synchronized, like-- They're truly becoming one.

A new system, David thinks, euphoric. They can be his new system. If he can just let them all the way in--

"Soon," Syd murmurs, promises. "So soon, Joonam. My sweet boy. Your sickness will be gone."

A blanket drapes over them, and David looks up to see Amahl standing over them, looking down at them with-- Intense satisfaction.

"My sweet boy," Amahl says, just like Syd. His hand rests on David's flushed, sweaty forehead. His hand slides down, closing David's eyes. "Sleep," Amahl orders, warmly. "Dream. And then-- We will wake together."

The last thing David knows is the press of Amahl's lips. And then he falls deeper into Syd's embrace, and then--

Chapter 138: Day 13: David wakes up. (Past David)

Chapter Text

David wakes up.

Everything is wrong.

He went to sleep warm in Syd's embrace, but-- Now he's cold. Alone. His body hurts all over, sore down to the bone. There's noise in his head and there's something-- Wet on his skin, sticky as it dries. His throat hurts, like he's been screaming, but he doesn't--

Was it a nightmare? He can't remember. He was with Syd and Amahl and now--

He cracks open his eyes. It's hard to focus, even his eyes hurt. But the familiar lab swims into view. Where's Amahl? He needs Amahl.

He rubs at his face and then-- Stares at his hand. It's covered in blood.

He looks down at himself. He's covered in blood. He's still naked, he's--

He looks for Amahl, for Melanie, for-- Syd. Syd's in the bed beside him, asleep. But whatever relief he feels is immediately erased.

He's in a cot, not his bed. And the two beds there are-- Instead of Amahl and Melanie there's-- Two men in them, asleep, with-- Things on their heads. One of them is an older man he doesn't recognize at all. And the other--

He rubs his eyes again. He must be seeing things. Is that--

"David?" Syd says, sleepily. She looks at him and-- Her eyes go wide. She sits up, looks around, sees-- The other David in the bed behind her. Turns back to him. 'That's not David.'

"Syd?" David says, voice shaky and rough. He pulls the blanket up from the bed and wraps it around himself. "Where's-- Where's Dad? Where's-- What’s happening?"

He struggles to his feet and nearly falls down. What happened to him? He feels awful, like every cell in his body is bruised. Amahl has to be here somewhere. Where is he?

"You know who I am?" Syd asks him. 'He's so young. Could he be-- From the past?'

David turns back to her, baffled. "Of course I— Syd, where's Dad? Where's Melanie?"

"Melanie?" Syd echoes. 'He knows Melanie?'

David steps back from her, bewildered. "This is a nightmare," he tells himself, willing himself to wake up. "It's just a nightmare." He has to wake up. He just has to wake up and-- Everything will go back to normal.

But he's not waking up.

He turns to Syd, but she's at the older man's side now, doing something to the thing on his head. Then she shakes him. 'Oliver, wake up. Please.' She sounds afraid.

And then David realizes-- He didn't see her lips move. Not for half of what she said.

"No," he gasps, staggering back until he hits the wall. He clutches at his head. "No!" They're not his powers, he's not a mutant.

A nightmare, this is a nightmare, it has to be a nightmare.

“David, stay calm,” Syd says, back with him again. 'Where's Kerry? Why hasn't anyone come? They have to be seeing this.'

The older man -- Oliver? -- stirs, sits up, stretches. He looks around, and his eyebrows rise high. "Two Davids," he says, as if he's been presented with a mildly difficult crossword puzzle. "How interesting."

"He knows Melanie," Syd tells Oliver.

"Melanie," Oliver says, and that seems to matter to him. He gives David a curious look and gets out of bed.

"Stay back," David warns them, holding up the hand he's not using to clutch the blanket. "Amahl! Melanie!"

'Amahl? Jesus, what did Farouk do?' Syd says it, but-- It's a thought in David's head. From powers he shouldn't have.

He needs Amahl. "Syd, where is he?" David pleads.

The lab door opens, startling David because-- There's no beep from the card lock. And then-- More people, a man and a woman and--

"Amy?" David says, stunned.

"Oh god," Amy says, and covers her mouth in shock. "David?"

"Why are you here?" David says, loud and angry. She shouldn't be here, he never wants to see her again.

There's too many people in the lab. None of them are supposed to be here except Syd. They're going to ruin Amahl's work. Maybe-- He has to stop them, like he-- Tried to stop Syd? No, no, that-- That was wrong--

"Amahl!" he calls again, desperate. This can't go on. Amahl has to come back or David has to wake up or-- Something has to save him. He can't save himself.

There's a rattling sound, and everyone looks to see-- Objects in the room are starting to shake. The woman rushes over and grabs-- His rocket lamp? How did that get here? He hasn't seen it in years. No, the colors are wrong-- And it’s in pieces—

"Not good," says the man. "Amy? Syd?"

"David," Syd says, and takes a step closer. "You have to stay calm. You don't want to hurt anyone, right?"

"It's not me," David says, pleading for her to understand. "It's the monster. It's back."

"The blood," Syd says. "Are you hurt? Just-- Let me see, okay?"

It's Syd, David should trust her, but-- She seems different. And nothing is right. He backs away from her, but that pushes him closer to--

The other David. He's still asleep. Now that David's closer, he can see-- This David is older. David grabs his leg, shakes him, but he doesn't wake up.

Amy looks older, too. Is he-- Did something go wrong? Was he in a coma again? Is he old, too? He touches his face but he can't tell. Wait, Syd’s still the same age--

"David," says the man, in a soothing tone. "I know-- Things are really confusing right now. We're confused, too. But we can help you. Just-- Tell us what you need."

"I need Amahl," David says, angrily. The rattling had started to ease, but it flares up again. "What did you do to him?"

"Amahl Farouk?" the man asks.

"Of course Amahl Farouk!" David says. "This is his lab, you're not supposed to be here!"

He has to run. He has to get away from these people before they ruin everything. Maybe-- No, not the bathroom—

There's no lock on the lab door. He could-- He could run? But what if this is another test? What if he fails again? He can't fail again, not after-- He'll never be Joonam if he keeps failing.

"Who is he?" he demands, pointing at the other David. "Why won't he wake up?"

"He needs help to wake up," Syd explains. "If you let me, I can help him and then-- You can talk to him." She slowly steps closer.

It feels like a trick. "No," he says. "No, don't touch him. Stay away!"

"Shoulda put a remote control on that thing," the woman mutters.

"David," Amy says, stepping closer. "We're looking for Amahl, too. That's where we were just now. Trying to find him. Because-- He took some friends of ours, some very good friends, and we need to get them back."

"Why are you here?" David asks. It hurts just to look at her, she hates him, she shouldn't be here.

"I don't hate you, David," Amy says, worried. "Why would you think that?"

"How did you hear that?" David asks, alarmed. The shaking gets louder, more urgent. "Are you doing this? Make it stop!"

"David, you're doing it, with your powers," Syd says. 'Could he be from after the amnesia?' "Do you know about your powers?"

"I don’t have powers!" David tells her. She knows this, she should know all of this.

The noise in his head keeps getting louder. There's so much fear around him, anger and violent thoughts. He clutches at his head but he can't make it stop. He feels like he's falling apart. He puts his hand over his heart. "I'm safe with Amahl, I'm safe with Amahl, I'm safe with Amahl," he chants, but without Amahl there-- He's not safe at all.

Amy and Syd are too close. He has to get away. He inches along the wall until he's around the bed and then--

"Catch him!" Syd shouts.

David's halfway to the door when someone grabs him. It's the man and he's weirdly strong. He pins David down, and then Amy’s on him, too. Why is she so strong?! David flails wildly, desperately. The blood on his skin is drying, tacky, and that makes it harder for him to get free.

"Get off!" David screams. The air starts to smell like ozone, like the air during a storm. The monster's powers are vibrating under his skin. His heart is racing too fast, frantic with terror.

"He's gonna blow!" someone says. "Oliver, knock him--"

David screams as everything explodes. Everything flies away from him in a huge rush. Electronics spark and light bulbs pop. He whimpers, curls in on himself. The monster—!

And then it stops. He looks up, panting, shaking, stunned. There's a cleared space around him, and then everything else is-- The aftermath of a bomb. The lab is ruined. The only home he has is ruined. There's blood and-- Limbs?! Oh god. And then he realizes--

The blood isn't coming from the limbs. Because they're not human. Amy and the strong man are splayed out on the floor, their robot bodies shattered. The blood is coming from Oliver. He's whole but-- He's hurt.

"No," David says, reaching for him and then pulling back again. He didn't— It was the monster. It was the monster. It’s tricking him, making him see things that aren’t real, making him—Hurt people. Amahl said he killed it, but— It must have tricked him, too.

Fear for Syd finally forces him to his feet. “Syd?” he calls. What if the monster— What if she’s hurt? “Syd! Syd!”

He struggles through the rubble, goes back to where he last saw her. The beds and cots were blown over during the explosion, even-- The one with the other David in it. Is he a robot, too?

“Syd!” There she is, thank god. “Syd, I’m here. Wake up, please wake up!”

He kneels down beside her and touches her cheek. They were just— They were together, in love— And now everything’s ruined. Amahl’s gone, the lab, all his work— Everything David cares about is gone. Except Syd.

“Syd, please,” David begs, stroking her cheek the way she always strokes his. And then her eyes flutter open.

She goes very still. And then she stares up in shock.

“Syd?” David says, worried. “Are you hurt? I didn’t— It’s the monster, it’s back, I don’t— I’m seeing things again. You have to tell me what’s real.”

“What are you?” Syd asks, afraid.

“You hit your head,” David realizes. “Let me see—“

When he tries to turn her head, she pulls away, sits up. “No,” she says, firmly.

“Oh,” David says, and pulls back. “I’m sorry, I know— You’re my doctor, but I thought—“ No. of course— He shouldn't touch her now. They can’t be together when he’s sick.

There’s a groan from the other side of the fallen bed.

“David?” Syd calls, worried, but— She turns away from him. She grabs the bed frame and pulls herself up, looks over it. “David!”

It’s the other David she’s worried about. Not him?

She climbs over and David follows her. The other David is laid out in the floor, but he’s waking up. There’s blood dripping down the sides of his neck, from— A crown?

“Hurts,” the other David moans. “Syd?”

“I’m here,” Syd tells him. “Davids, there’s— Someone’s here. We need your help."

'What's going on?' the other David thinks, his voice noisy in David's head even though he's lying still. 'The lab blew up? Oliver! Amy! Ptonomy! Oh my god, what-- Who-- What the hell?'

There's two of them. Two other Davids in his head, and they sound-- Familiar. And then David realizes--

The monster is back.

"No," David gasps, and pushes back against a fallen cot. "No!" He grabs his head.

"Farouk did this," says-- Divad, low and angry. His voice is outside of David's head now, moving around the room.

"Yeah, no shit," Dvd says. He's outside, too. "We need this crown off yesterday."

"Davids?" Syd calls. "Can you hear me?" 'If Clark sends in soldiers--' "David?"

The other David groans again, then struggles to sit up. Syd reaches for him, then pulls back, letting him sit up on his own. He looks around, dazed. And then--

Their eyes meet.

"It's me," the other David says, shocked.

"Whatdya mean it's--" Dvd's voice cuts off.

"David?" calls Divad's voice, quiet and worried and-- Afraid. 'Oh my god.' His voice gets closer. "David, can you hear me? It's Divad. We're here, okay? We're right here."

"Stay away from me!" David warns. He slaps at where Divad's voice is coming from, but there's nothing there. He stands and stumbles back.

'Not again,' Syd thinks. "We need to keep him calm," she warns. She can hear them, too?

"David," Dvd says, his voice full of emotion. 'God, he looks just like—' "It's Dvd. You can't see us, but-- We just wanna help."

"You're never 'helping' me again," David says, angrily. "Stop trying to trick me! I know what you are!"

There's a pause.

"What do you think we are?" Divad asks, cautiously.

"Masks," David spits. "You're just masks. Like King. You blew everything up and now you're trying to trick me!"

'I'm going to kill Farouk,' Dvd thinks, in David's head. 'I'm going to take a knife and gut him slowly.'

David eyes the door. He has to run. But he can't leave Syd. He grab's Syd's arm and pulls at her.

"David, stop!" Syd orders. "Let me go!"

David falters. He's supposed to do what Syd says, but-- "We have to go!"

"He can touch her skin?" Divad says, astonished. "What the hell is going on?"

"He's not real?" Dvd says, uncertain.

"Hey!"

Everyone turns. The woman with the lamp is standing in the doorway, and there's another man beside her, with a huge scar across one side of his face. And there's soldiers behind them, lots of them.

The scarred man presses a button on some gadget he's holding. And then-- The other David staggers as the crown on his head retracts its spikes.

"Oh," the other David breathes, eyes wide, and then--

Divad and Dvd appear. They're older, like the other David is older.

David stumbles away from them, heart racing. "Stay away!" he warns, feeling the power building under his skin again.

A paralyzing force grips him. David struggles but it's so strong. The rubble around him starts to rattle.

"I've got him," Dvd says. "David, the crown!"

"Make it snappy!" Divad calls.

The other David hurries over, as fast as he can. He holds up the crown, but pauses, looking right into David's terrified eyes.

"This better work," says the scarred man.

"This is going to hurt," the other David says, regretful. "I'm sorry."

David struggles, but the other David places the crown on his head. And then the scarred man presses a button, and--

David screams in pain as spikes shoot out of the crown and drive into his skull. He collapses but the force holds him upright. "Amahl," he cries weakly, and then-- He passes out.

Chapter 139: Day 13: There's no way he's not a trap. (David)

Chapter Text

"We're not putting him in one of those fucking cells," Lenny declares.

"I'm sorry, did you not personally experience what that thing is capable of?" Clark replies. "It goes in a cell until we know what we're dealing with."

"Were you paying attention at all?" Lenny challenges. "That ‘thing’ is David. You keep him in one of your torture chambers, what's that gonna do to him?"

"And that matters because?" Clark prompts. "Farouk sent a bomb. It went off. This is weapons disposal."

Lenny's hands tighten to fists. "He woke up covered in blood. You know what that means."

That finally makes Clark pause. "We don't know--"

"The fuck we don't," Lenny says. "He even put them back in the same bed. That's not just David in there, it's Cary and Kerry. Farouk still has that fucking gun. This is me and Amy all over again and I'm not gonna let you do to them what you did to us."

"That thing isn't David," Clark insists. "It can't be, because our actual David is right there, fully intact." He points at David. David shifts the ice pack on his head and glances over at Divad, who's hovering over Oliver with medical team, and Dvd, who's hovering over the unconscious David in the opposite bed. He's secured to the bed with familiar restraints.

"Not fully," Lenny reminds him. "That new David? Yeah, he's a bomb. A memory bomb."

Clark frowns.

"We knew it was coming," Lenny says. "Here it is."

"He knows Syd and Melanie and Amahl Farouk," Clark reminds her. "None of that is from David's actual past."

"So we ask him," Lenny says. "We get the story. Then we figure out the truth."

"Fine," Clark says. "But he needs to stay secured at all times. He's incredibly unstable."

"He's got the crown," Lenny says.

"Will that stop him from trying to kill himself?" Clark challenges.

"Clark's right," David admits. "If he's me--"

"Fine," Lenny says. "But we keep him with us. We don't treat him like a thing or an enemy. You wanna save Cary? Start acting like him."

Clark considers it. "We need to interrogate him."

"We need to talk to him," Lenny corrects. "Even without whatever new bullshit Farouk did to him, a David who remembers his actual life-- He's gonna be in bad shape."

It's a sobering statement. David looks at the other David again. If it's true, if-- Farouk somehow-- Used the gun--

"Is that why Syd can touch him?" David asks. "Because he doesn't have a soul?"

"He's gotta have something," Lenny insists. "Look, I didn't think I had a soul, but I did."

"The research team will scan him once he's awake and willing to cooperate," Clark says. "And if he won't cooperate, they'll scan him anyway. We have too many questions and we need answers."

Syd arrives, her pajamas mussed and her arms full. She reaches David's bed and puts a stack of notebooks down next to the parts of his rocket lamp. "That's everything," she says. "The lab's a mess, but-- It's not as bad as it looks. Nothing structural. We can go back once the cleanup is done."

David fishes his notebook out of the stack. There's something tucked into it. It's the name cards and Cary's scans and-- Dvd's writing practice and-- The photo of his family.

"How's Amy?" he asks. "Ptonomy?"

"They're okay," Syd says. "The research team is helping them calibrate their new bodies."

David breathes a sigh of relief. He knew they were safe in the mainframe, but the sight of their mangled androids--

Clark heads out to do political damage control, and Lenny sits next to Syd.

"Thanks for saving the lamp," David tells her.

"I know what happens when you blow up," Lenny says. "I wasn't gonna let you put that lamp through a wall."

Syd winces. Lenny smirks and gives her a friendly elbow.

David looks over at the other David. "He's really me?" he says, half-asking.

"Guess we'll find out," Lenny says. "How're you feeling?"

"Sore," David admits. "But they said everything's okay. Nothing Divad can't heal, anyway. We have to, ah, avoid any more knocks to the head, though."

"Good advice," Lenny says.

"How about your powers?" Syd asks.

David closes his eyes and imagines-- A bowl of cherries. Cool ceramic presses against his open palm. He opens his eyes and sees exactly what he imagined. They're deep red and shiny, just like cherries should be. He puts one into his mouth and bites down, breaking the skin so the juices burst onto his tongue.

He remembers sitting in the kitchen, helping Mom bake cherry pie. Does this David remember that? If he has all those stolen memories-- He has the real memory. The complete, whole memory of that moment. All the faces, all the feelings.

He offers the bowl to Dvd. "These are for him."

Dvd takes the bowl and puts it on the bedside table.

"Wild," Lenny says.

"Skill," Dvd counters.

"Telekinesis," Divad says. "The one power I really wish I had."

"You can do plenty," Dvd says, dismissive. "Look at all the inside stuff you can do."

"But I can't touch the world," Divad says. "Not without our body."

"I can't shield without Dvd," David says. "And I wouldn't be here without you."

Divad eases, grateful. Then he looks at the other David and sobers again.

The other David is cleaned up now, and they put him in a spare pair of David's pajamas. For all the damage he did, he was obviously just-- Confused and terrified and-- If he went through what Amy and Lenny went through--

They have to help him. Even if he's in Kerry and Cary’s body--

"You know he's a trap, right?" Lenny says, though she's not pleased to say it. "There's no way he's not a trap."

"Blowing the lab up wasn't enough?" Divad counters.

"She's right," Dvd admits. "That was just-- An appetizer. We gotta be careful." He gives the other David a meaningful look. 'I don't want to be careful.'

"Shouldn't he be waking up soon?" Syd asks.

"David and Farouk were both out for a while after they were crowned,” Divad says. “But David got gassed and Farouk—“ He rubs his face. “There’s a lot of variables here. But his numbers are good. Can someone check his eyes?”

A medic leaves Oliver and shines a pen light in the other David’s eyes. They react, and then-- Flinch from the brightness. Divad gestures for everyone to step away. They need to give him space.

"Amahl?" the other David whimpers.

Everyone frowns.

'What the hell?' Dvd thinks.

'Imagine the worst explanation and it's twice as bad,' Divad thinks back.

The other David's eyes open, squinting. He's disoriented, confused, and then-- His eyes go wide. He tries to scurry back, but the restraints stop him-- And that makes him start to panic.

Syd gets up and goes to him. "David, it's okay. Everything's okay." She hesitates, then-- Rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Syd?" The other David's voice is almost a whine. He looks around, and when he sees Divad and Dvd-- He squeezes his eyes shut. "Not real, not real. You're not real."

"Uh, could you guys-- Not be visible for a bit?" Syd asks.

"Fine," Dvd sighs, unhappy. Nothing changes from David's perspective, but Syd seems pleased. And the other David is-- Marginally relieved.

"Is this the hospital?" the other David asks. "The lower floors?"

"Ah, no," Syd says, cautiously. "It's the infirmary. Is that where you were, a hospital?"

The other David tenses up again. A whole array of emotions crosses his face. 'What do I do? What do I do? If Amahl was here-- If this is a test, it could be a test-- Why else would Syd be acting strange? She acted strange before. It has to be another test. I just have to-- Prove I'm ready--'

David is starting to think he should be relaying the other David's thoughts to the mainframe. They really need Ptonomy right now.

"I'll get it down for him," Divad says, already writing in his notebook. "Just keep listening."

That's right, David realizes. This is how they used to work. David listened and-- Relayed what he heard to his headmates. Just like Oliver and the mainframe. The similarity is-- Oddly pleasing.

The other David gets a stubborn look. "If you don't already know-- You don't need to know." 'Yeah, that feels right.'

"Okay," Syd says, considering. "Then-- How about I tell you what I already know?"

"Like what?" the other David asks, warily.

"Well," Syd says. "I know that-- Your name is David Haller. You grew up in the country with your parents and Amy. You loved picture books and you loved-- Nature, being outside in the forests and meadows, away from the crowds. Cherry pie." She smiles warmly.

The other David stares at her. 'Why is she so different? I can't-- Hear her thoughts. All the noise-- It's gone again. The monster—?'

Syd takes the bowl of cherries from the table. She takes one of the cherries for herself, then offers the other David the rest. "Want one?"

The other David tries to reach for the bowl, but he's stopped by the restraints. Syd sees and picks up another cherry, holds it out for him to eat. From the way he looks at it, it's clear he wants it, but he's wary. He waits for Syd to eat hers, but then-- 'Mom,' he thinks, upset. 'No, she wasn't-- My real Mom is-- I don't know who my real parents are. I don't know-- It didn't matter when I had-- If I could just be a Farouk--'

David tries not to show any reaction, but Divad and Dvd look exactly how he feels.

"I'm not hungry," the other David says, and turns away. Then he looks up at the crown. "What is this?"

"It's-- A medical device," Syd says. "A kind of-- Restraint. To keep you from hurting yourself."

"It hurts," the other David pouts.

"I know," Syd says. "I'm sorry."

"You can't take it off?" David pleads.

Syd shakes her head. "And please don't try to take it off yourself. That could hurt you very badly."

David expected the other David to resist more, to be angry about the crown like he was. The other David isn't happy, of course, but-- He accepts it. He hasn't even complained about the restraints.

Passive, dependent, guilty, and depressed, David thinks. Or is it more than that?

"I know that-- For your whole life, for as long as you can remember-- There's been a monster in your head," Syd continues. "It made you see things, hear things-- Believe things that weren't true."

'Yes,' the other David thinks, but only looks at Syd meaningfully.

"You were tortured," Syd continues. "Some terrible things happened and-- One day it was all-- Too much. You fought as long as you could, you tried-- So hard, but-- It never stopped. So you-- Rested. For a while. That was all you could do."

'Everything's right,' the other David thinks. 'If it's a test-- Is that enough?'

"And then-- Something happened," Syd says, carefully. "You were in college, and-- Then you were somewhere else. A hospital, a lab. There was a man there. A-- Doctor. Doctor Amahl Farouk."

The other David doesn't think anything, but it's clear from his reaction that Syd guessed right.

"He said he'd help you, right?" Syd guesses. "And-- Other people came to help, too. Melanie. Me."

The other David gives a faint nod.

"And we told you-- You're not a mutant," Syd says. "You don't have powers. And the-- Alters you trusted-- Were masks. Like King. And your family, the family you loved-- Aren't your real family. And they don't want you."

A few tears leak from the other David's eyes.

"I'm gonna kill him," Dvd growls.

"David, do you know how long were you in the hospital?" Syd asks.

"Um, I'm not sure," the other David says. "I guess-- About a year?"

Syd hides it well, but David sees her surprise. Her breathing goes still, her eyes a fraction wider. "That's right," she lies, smoothly. "A year's a long time."

The other David nods.

"Do you want to go back?" Syd asks.

"Please," the other David begs. More tears fall. "I don't-- Understand what's happening, I-- Just want to wake up." He gives her such a desperate, pleading look. "If I did something wrong-- If Amahl’s-- Angry with me-- I know I'm-- Sick, but-- I thought-- And then I woke up here and--" He’s trembling, and the pain on his face is heartbreaking. "Just tell me what to do. Please, just tell me what to do!"

Syd hushes him. "All you have to do right now is rest, okay? You didn't do anything wrong. We'll help get you-- Where you need to be, okay?"

The other David gives a half-swallowed sob and nods. Syd takes a tissue and dabs away his tears, holds the tissue so he can blow his nose. She's so-- Gentle with him. David can't help but feel a pang of jealousy. Syd was never that gentle with him, not even in Clockworks.

But she couldn't be. Her powers and-- She didn't know-- Gentle was something she was allowed to be.

And despite all that, she spent a year-- Teaching herself to accept touch, to give it. For him. He didn't really-- Appreciate how hard that must have been for her. But he knows now. Facing it himself--

"What's going to happen to me?" the other David asks, afraid.

"You don't have to worry about that now," Syd soothes. "We'll just take it-- One step at a time. Okay?"

The other David nods.

Syd's words are so familiar-- David thinks-- Ptonomy said something like that, when-- At the beginning, when hope still felt-- Impossibly out of reach. But it wasn't for him, and-- It isn't for this David either.

The other David has been avoiding looking at David all this time. But now he finally does. He looks at the bandages circling David's head, covering the wounds from the crown. He's confused and scared and-- Curious.

And of course he is. Despite the physical differences between them, injuries and age-- Despite all the questions and uncertainties and whatever madness Farouk subjected the other David to-- David knows this is the David he used to be, the David he still is. This is himself. But his self is now-- Split in two. Like-- Syd and Future Syd. The same person, but-- Two different people. David and Future David? David and Past David? Or-- Two fragments?

His head still hurts too much to figure this out. He relaxes back against the pillows and closes his eyes. He needs to rest before-- They work out what to do next. But closing his eyes doesn't stop the-- Resounding burble of the other David's mind inside his own.

Chapter 140: Day 13: He made me love him. (David)

Chapter Text

David knew Amy was okay. He knew that no matter what happened to her android, her soul was safe in the mainframe. But when he walks into the conference room and sees her alive and whole--

He's hugged Amy a lot lately, so much it's like they're making up for lost time. But this hug-- This one is for all the time they're going to have. David won't let her down.

He realizes, belatedly, that Amy didn't hear that thought. That she can't. If he wants her to know how he feels--

But when he pulls back, he realizes-- She knows. Of course she knows.

"I'm going to-- Have to get used to you not reading my mind," David admits.

"Me too," Amy admits. She takes a shaky breath and then-- Pulls him close again. This time it feels like-- She's the one who needs the hug most.

"Amy?" David asks, worried.

"I'm okay," Amy says, voice muffled against his body. Then she pulls back to face him. "No. David, I'm-- Not okay."

"Is it-- The detachment?" David asks.

"No," Amy says. "Syd-- Helped us last night, with her powers. She-- We're feeling more ourselves again, at least for now, but--" She gives a shaky laugh. "Right now I wish I was detached."

David glances over at Syd, wanting to know more, but-- He turns back to Amy. "The explosion?"

Amy nods.

David's tried not to think about the fact that-- Farouk killed her. Violently disembodied her. That he violently disembodied Lenny and Ptonomy and-- Possibly Cary and Kerry. Even though she and Ptonomy have new bodies, it must have been-- Like dying all over again.

"I'm sorry," David says, feeling-- Somewhat responsible for the other David's explosion. Even though he wasn't even conscious for it. The other David is still-- Himself.

"It wasn't your fault," Amy says. "Or his. He was just-- We should have known--"

"Amy," David soothes, concerned.

"You don't remember, but-- When we were young, sometimes-- I was so afraid of you," Amy admits. "I didn't think-- You wanted to hurt me, but-- When you were upset--" She gives another shaky laugh. "It's so-- Ridiculous, that I ever-- That I couldn't accept you had powers. I knew what you were capable of."

She doesn't say it with anger, but-- It's still startling. The directness of it, and her addressing the part of David's life that's-- Strapped to a hospital bed with a crown on his head. Presumably.

"I'm sorry," David says again, and again feels-- Like he's apologizing for someone else and himself at the same time.

Amy just hugs him again. He can feel her trembling.

"Do you-- Wanna talk about it?" David asks.

"Not yet," Amy says, muffled against him again.

"Whenever-- When you're ready," David promises. He needs to be there for her as much as she's been there for him. He will be.

Amy steps back and collects herself. She wipes at her eyes, even though they're dry. She looks up at David's head, gently touches the bandage. "How's your head?"

"Sore," David admits. "But it feels-- Really good to have the crown off."

It's a hell of an understatement, but David doesn't know if he can even begin to express how good it feels to have his powers back and those spikes out of his brain. He feels so much more alive, so much more-- Connected to everything. And it's still coming back to him, like some-- Essential nerves were severed and now they're growing back.

Clark and Ptonomy walk in, and Ptonomy looks just like he did before. "Ptonomy," David greets. He meets Ptonomy and hesitates, but-- Ptonomy opens his arms and David hugs him, too. Not as intensely as he hugged Amy, but-- With plenty of feeling.

"I'm really glad you're okay," David tells him.

"Thanks," Ptonomy says, a little self-conscious. He's never been very demonstrative, at least not in David's experience, but-- Hell, David should've hugged him the first time Ptonomy came back to life, even in that Vermillion.

David steps back. "Um, Amy said-- Syd helped you guys last night?"

"Yeah," Ptonomy says, and sighs. He seems to feel the same way Amy does about all of that. Understandably. "I've, uh-- Been talking to my family about it. They're military, so-- They know about getting blown up." He gives a wry smile.

Clark glances at the clock. "Is this everyone? We have a lot to discuss."

"Syd had to stop by her room," David says. She needed to get cleaned up and take a break. He can hear her there now, finishing up. "She'll be here soon. Dvd's with her. Divad’s with Lenny." He left them down in the infirmary, but-- "They’re—“

"Reporting for duty," Lenny says, saluting as she walks in with Divad. David has to fight the urge to hug her, too. Lenny walks right to the head of the conference table and sprawls herself into the chair. Everyone else grabs a seat. David adjusts the stack of notebooks he brought with him. He doesn't want to let them out of his sight.

He didn't want to let Dvd or Divad out of his sight either. Or Syd or Lenny or-- But it's good for them to-- Stretch their legs, now that they can. Take a break. None of them are going anywhere. And he can still hear them, most of them, wherever they are. Including the other David.

'Oh!' Divad thinks, prompted by David's thoughts. 'David, the relay.'

Right, David thinks back. "Ptonomy, I think-- I should do what Oliver did. Relay the-- Other David's thoughts to the mainframe."

"I agree," Ptonomy says. "We'll get that set up. Have you heard anything useful?"

"I hope so," David says. "Ah, Divad wrote it down, hold on--"

Divad summons his mental notebook and rips out several pages. He hands them to David, who takes them, pulls them into physical reality, and then passes them to Ptonomy.

"Amazing," Ptonomy says, shaking his head.

"Better than transcribing," David shrugs.

'He's a god,' Clark thinks. He looks-- Very calmly terrified.

David decides to not get into that discussion right now. And thankfully Syd and Dvd arrive, so he doesn't have to. David gives Syd a little smile as she sits down, and she gives him a little smile back.

"Okay," Ptonomys says, straightening up. "If you open the tablets in front of you, you'll see a shared database of everything we have so far. Transcriptions, surveillance footage, eyewitness reports, medical reports. I'll add this new information when we're done. Everything will go in here. We need to all be on the same page at all times."

Everyone signals agreement and opens their tablet. Dvd shares his with Divad. His eyes narrow with thought as he studies what he sees.

"Let's start from the top," Ptonomy continues. "Early this morning-- Or very late at night-- Kerry and Cary disappeared from the lab. Surveillance footage shows that Farouk disappeared at the same time. A short time later, a second David Haller appeared in Kerry's cot, naked and-- Covered in blood. According to Syd and the surveillance footage, he was disoriented, confused, and in pain. Lenny?"

"He's them," Lenny says, certain. "Farouk's got that fucking gene gun. New David's gotta be them."

"According to Doctor Orwell's report, there's no sign of Loudermilk DNA," Clark points out. "Either Kerry or Cary's."

"He didn't need to leave the eyes this time," Lenny points out. "What I wanna know is how he made this David what, twenty years old?"

"Twenty one," Syd says. "At least-- Mentally. When I interviewed him, the new David-- He said he was with Farouk for a year."

"And how's that possible?" Dvd challenges. "Two hours a night, that's all the shit beetle was supposed to get."

"Two hours of dreams," Ptonomy says. "Time in dreams is-- Fluid, malleable. The same thing happened with my memory walks. I could watch whole days go by in a few minutes."

"But a whole year?" Syd asks.

"Farouk's been giving David nightmares for decades," Amy points out. "He must be-- Able to make dreams be-- Whatever he wants them to be."

“You shouldn’t have let David dream,” Dvd says, annoyed.

“We had to,” Divad sighs.

"Says you," Dvd mutters.

"Do you think I wanted this?" Divad challenges, upset. "Do you think I wanted that monster to ever touch any part of us ever again?"

Dvd stares, then backs down. He crosses his arms and looks away.

"We knew it was a risk," Ptonomy allows. "But REM deprivation would have made it impossible to get as far as we have. Our priority was keeping your system as healthy and safe as possible. Divad's solution helped us do that. But yes, that left David's REM sleep-- Wide open for Farouk."

"So let's figure out what he did with it," Lenny says. "And why."

"How is he-- Young?" David asks. "Shouldn't he be my age?"

"We've been trying to figure that out," Ptonomy admits. "The gene gun uses a sample of genetic material to convert the target body. When Amy's body was-- Converted into Lenny, Lenny's body was effectively-- A year younger than it would have been if she hadn't died."

"Huh," Lenny says, taking that in. "Fountain of youth right there. Too bad about the hideous pain."

"So Farouk just needed-- An old sample of my genetic material?" David asks.

"From college," Amy says. "When we brought you home-- You didn't want anything that reminded you of school. So we just-- bought you new things and-- Put the boxes in the attic."

"There must have been a hairbrush," Ptonomy says. "Farouk remembered, stole it. Eleven year old hair, twenty year old David Haller."

"Who thinks he's twenty one," Lenny points out.

"But we don't know all this for sure," Clark points out. "Time travel is still a possibility."

"Is it?" David asks. "I mean-- Me and Farouk both projected our minds into the future, but-- If he actually took younger me from the past, assuming that's even possible-- Would any of us still be here?"

No one has an answer for that.

"If it was actually our past self, he'd have a system," Dvd decides. "He doesn't. So it can't be us from the past. There's no 'us'."

"Good point," Ptonomy says, and makes a note on his tablet. "Let's assume for now that this is a gene gun situation. Odds are he preserved Cary and Kerry's soul just like he did Amy's."

"Every part of the cow," Syd murmurs.

"So they're still in there?" David asks. "If it's them?"

"Try to find them," Ptonomy tells him. "But we had to use Syd's powers to find Amy."

"My powers won't work on him," Syd says.

"The new David will see them," Amy says. "When they-- Find themselves again. Lenny could see me. If they're there-- New David will see them."

"And probably freak him the hell out," Lenny mutters.

Amy gives Lenny a wry smile. Lenny rolls her eyes, but fondly.

"We've got a task list," Ptonomy says. "I'm adding these and assigning the telepathic search to David."

An out-of-body sensation comes over David. "Did you-- Do all this for me? Us?" He glances at Dvd and Divad.

"Yes," Ptonomy says. "Welcome to the other side."

"Are we gonna keep calling him 'New David'?" Dvd asks, and it's clear he doesn't like it.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Ptonomy asks.

"Maybe-- 'Other David'?" David suggests. "I mean-- He is me. Past me. Past plus a year--" David gives up and rubs at his head.

"Past David," Syd decides. "We had Future Syd, so-- Past David."

Dvd considers it. "Just don't call him that to his face."

"Agreed," Ptonomy says, and makes another note. David changes to the active document and sees Ptonomy's notes appearing on the screen: 'Past David.' Internal use only. Address as 'David.' Dvd already showing attachment.

"Hey!" Dvd says, reading the notes.

"Do you disagree?" Ptonomy challenges.

"No, but--" Dvd huffs. "Of course I'm attached, it's David."

"We don't know what he is yet," Clark says. "Except that he's a trap."

"No shit," Dvd says, dismissive. "I don't care. He's still David. Back me up, David."

"He is me," David admits.

Dvd makes a 'See?' gesture. Clark does not look impressed.

"Genetically, he is David Haller," Ptonomy allows. "And from the little we have so far, he does appear to remember David Haller's actual life, the first two decades of it. But that leads to the biggest question. Even if Farouk did use the gene gun, and his body is Kerry and Cary's, and he has David's memories-- Whose soul does he have?"

"And does he even have one?" Clark says.

"He's me," David says again, knowing it's true.

"He can't be you," Clark counters.

"Doctor Orwell will scan-- Past David," Divad says. "If it is our soul, we'll match."

"And if it's Farouk's soul?" Clark challenges. Everyone stares at him. "It's obvious. Farouk disappears, this fake David turns up--"

"No," Dvd says, firmly. "He's not the shit beetle."

"Are you saying-- Farouk left his body?" Syd asks.

"He hasn't come back," Clark says. "He has to be somewhere. Why not right under our noses?"

"It’s not impossible,” Ptonomy admits.

"We'll do the scans," Divad says again. "We'll know. If he's Farouk, the psychic filters will show it, just like they did before."

"And if Farouk found a way around those filters?" Clark challenges.

Divad gives him an exasperated look.

"We'll run every test we've got," Ptonomy says. "And we'll think up more tests if we have to. But let's table this for now. We need to talk about the year."

God, the year. David can't believe Farouk spent an entire year torturing him in his dreams. Even if forgetting made it easy for Farouk to do all that-- David is very glad he doesn't remember.

Divad gives David a grateful look. Dvd isn't thrilled by David's thought, but he accepts it.

"If you switch to the transcripts, I've highlighted key phrases," Ptonomy says. "The thoughts Oliver was able to relay are included, so Syd, that will be new to you."

Syd nods and peers intently at her tablet. Everyone else does the same. David wonders how often they did this for him. Pored over his every thought, every word. They all know him so intimately now.

"Again, we'll start from the top," Ptonomy says. "Syd wakes up, and-- Past David turns to her for help. He asks for 'Dad' and Melanie. He's convinced he's having a nightmare. And then he asks for Farouk and Melanie."

David's stomach turns. Everyone else looks faintly ill, even Clark.

"I'd like to reference a surveillance recording," Ptonomy continues. "This was from Farouk's cell, the night of his capture. He addressed David as his 'baby,' claiming-- Some kind of father-son relationship. David, you rejected that claim."

"Yes," David says, firmly.

"Past David appears to be deeply attached to Farouk," Ptonomy continues. "And deeply dependent. From the transcript: 'Amahl has to come back or I have to wake up or-- Something has to save me. I can't save myself.'"

"God, what happened in those dreams?" Divad asks, upset. "It wasn't-- David had those dreams. They were David's dreams. How did he even--"

"It must have been-- Like the fake Clockworks," Ptonomy says. "In that environment, he was able to make us experience-- A different set of memories. If he did the same thing here, substituted David's lost, genuine memories for what he has now--"

"And then the dreams made-- New memories," Divad says. "He somehow-- Saved them. Together. Every night, until--"

"Until he put them somewhere else," Ptonomy says. "Yes."

"So he gave me back my memories," David says. "And then took them away again. Every night. What would have happened if-- I woke up and remembered--"

"It's hard to say," Ptonomy admits. "But it's possible that-- You'd have both sets of memories. We remembered who Farouk made us think we were. Like your ability to paint."

"So I could've got them back," David realizes. "I could've remembered my actual life."

"You'd also remember trusting Amahl Farouk like a father," Ptonomy counters.

"He called him 'Dad,'" David says, as it sinks in. He wasn't awake for that. Past David calls Farouk 'Amahl' and that's bad enough, but-- Dad.

"He made me love him," David realizes. "That monster went on about-- Not being able to make me love him, and then he made me love him." He feels sick and furious and violated. God. A whole year.

David stares at the transcript. Syd, where's Dad? Where's Melanie? He switches to the surveillance footage. Sees himself asleep, sees Past David appear and wake up. "Syd? Where's-- Where's Dad? Where's-- What’s happening?"

He stops the video.

"That was me," he says, numbly. He's used to not remembering his own life but this-- God, this.

He'd thought of-- Past David as a separate person. But he's not. Or-- He wasn't. Past David was-- Himself. The things Farouk did to Past David, whatever terrible things-- He did them to David.

"He made me love him," David says again, faint with shock. Farouk wiped David's memory and--

His stomach roils. He staggers to his feet and rushes out of the conference room. He can't-- Where's the nearest--

He throws up all over the hallway, a huge splatter of a mess. His stomach hurts. He gasps, throat acid, and steps back, falls against the wall, slides down it. Curls up with his forehead against his knees.

Syd reaches him first. She looks at the mess, then sits down beside him, on the clean side. She pauses, then-- Offers her gloved hand.

David takes it and holds it tight.

Chapter 141: Day 13: Just like Syd. (David)

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry," Divad says, again.

"You didn't know," David says, again.

"We should have known," Divad says. He's pacing and David wishes he'd just sit down. "We did know. We knew he was hurting you. We should have stopped him."

"And then what?" David says, tiredly. "He would’ve done something else. He's not going to stop until we stop him, right? That's what all this is for. Getting strong enough to stop him."

"I know," Divad sighs. "I just-- We did everything we could do to keep you safe and-- We failed. Again." 'We always fail.'

"He's torturing David to torture you to torture us,” Dvd says. “Stop giving him what he wants."

"I know," Divad sighs.

"David doesn't blame you, so stop blaming yourself," Dvd says. "Right, David?"

"I don't blame you," David says, firmly. "'We forgive each other.' That's supposed to be in our system foundation, right?"

"Why do you need to forgive me if it's not my fault?" Divad points out.

Dvd rolls his eyes.

"Okay, okay," Divad relents. He stops pacing, pauses, then sits back down at the garden table.

After this latest-- Shock-- Ptonomy had Amy take David’s system up to the garden, while Syd, Ptonomy, and Lenny joined Doctor Orwell for Past David's scans. Ptonomy said they'd set up the relay afterwards, when David's feeling better.

David thinks Ptonomy doesn't want him to relay at all, even if it means missing out on important information. He didn't say it, but-- He's obviously worried about David being directly exposed to-- His own trauma.

If Oliver could do it, he can do it, David thinks. He just has to-- Not eat anything solid for a while.

Dvd gives him a disbelieving look.

"I know," David sighs. He stares down at his foundation work. This is exactly the kind of moment it's for, he knows that. But it's hard to focus on helping himself when-- All he wants to do is go down to the infirmary and help himself.

"At least he doesn't think you're the shit beetle," Dvd says, glumly.

David glances at his tablet. He's been slowly going over the rest of the material, trying to just-- Keep it down. Reading hasn't made him this queasy since he forced himself to go through all his diagnoses in Syd's book.

It's a lot to take in. He's not sure if it's better to try and accept all this as his, or keep it as emotionally far away as possible. He might be doing both at once. And it's not like-- He can't hear what Past David is thinking. Of course he can hear it, whether he's listening or not.

He wishes Oliver was awake. He really needs to have that conversation about telepathy with him. But Oliver's-- In bad shape. Concussion, fractured ribs, a lot of stitches. It's the concussion they're worried about most. Oliver doesn't have a Divad to heal his brain.

It's Cary all over again. God, they can't lose another body. Barely anyone's still intact. And Oliver needs to stay embodied for his mind to heal.

"Um, Amy," David says, turning to her. "What was the-- The thing Syd did last night, to help you? Maybe-- It'll help Oliver."

"It might," Amy says, considering. "But-- Syd would have to swap with Oliver. She'd have to be in his body. That's-- Probably not a good idea right now."

"Oh," David says. "Yeah." He thinks about that. "That's how she helped? Swapping? But how did she--?"

"With the Admiral," Amy explains. "Her powers are— They protect our souls while they're in the wrong bodies. That helped restore-- Our coherence. At least for a while."

Divad frowns, curious. "So swapping with Syd-- Made you feel more like yourselves?"

"Yes," Amy realizes. "That's funny." She turns back to David. "That's not how it was for you."

"No," David agrees. He thinks back. He remembers-- Thinking he was dreaming, hallucinating. But he couldn't wake up. And being in Syd's body, being Syd-- It felt-- God, it felt--

Oh.

"David?" Dvd calls, worried.

"I'm okay," David says, distantly. "I just--"

He touches his hands to his chest, remembering-- Sitting in the cafe. Sitting on the dock. Missing the feeling of-- Syd around him—

"It wasn't her powers," David realizes. "It had nothing to do with her powers. I mean it did, but-- It's the sharing. It was like F-- Like Lenny." No, he's definitely still not ready to face the truth about that. "Being inside of Syd felt like sharing."

He takes the Farouk trauma sheets from the back of his notebook. He looks at the therapy goals. "Positive associations with sharing," he says, hearing the amazement in his own voice. "Amy, I-- I missed sharing with Syd for weeks. I thought about it all the time."

That has Divad and Dvd's attention. "So you're saying--" Divad starts.

"I'm saying-- My first-- Memory of sharing-- Isn't Lenny. It's not Farouk. It's-- It's Syd. It's positive, it's--"

"A good memory," Divad says. "I can't believe that's the good memory."

"Me either," David says, and realizes he's grinning. It's not just a good memory, it's a strong one, reinforced with-- Weeks of longing recollection. It's associated with-- Escape from Clockworks, with Syd's love for him and his for her, with-- Finally being outside and free. If he can make that-- The foundation of his ability to share--

'Guess I really do have to forgive Syd now,' Dvd thinks. "You know what? Let's do it."

"What, you think-- We should try now?" David asks.

"Today's been shit," Dvd says. "We need a win before we go back down there. This is a win."

"He's right," Divad agrees. "Today's only going to get harder. And you just held hands with Syd."

David feels a rush of soft happiness about that. Even though everything else hurt-- He held Syd's hand. She held his. He thinks of Syd being so gentle with Past David, and hugging Dvd, and bonding with Divad-- And his love for Syd feels-- So much stronger.

"Oh yeah," Dvd says, pleased. "Fuck the shit beetle. He's gonna hate this."

"David will have to think about Syd a lot," Divad warns Dvd. "If we do this-- He might always think about Syd when he shares with us."

"It's better than him thinking about the shit beetle," Dvd says, certain. But Divad gives him a pointed look. "Okay, okay," Dvd grouses. He settles and focuses on himself. "I'm still jealous of her. But— What matters is-- Building a new system. A healthy system that's good for all of us, so we can make our life what we want it to be. Syd helped me with that. She can help with this.”

David remembers Syd and Dvd talking together yesterday, and feels a rush of soft happiness again, for both Syd and Dvd this time. It just makes him so happy to see them getting along.

Dvd and Divad look at each other. "This might actually work," Divad says.

David looks to Amy, and she's pleased, hopeful. "I'm right here if you need me."

David gives her a grateful look, then turns back to his headmates. "How should we--"

Divad gives him a curious look. "When you think about-- Sharing with Syd-- What does that feel like? Physically?"

David closes his eyes and thinks back. "I was-- Inside her. Surrounded by this-- Sense of her presence, her body. She wasn't-- Actually there, but-- I didn't feel-- Alone. I wasn't just myself. I was-- Us. It made me feel calm, even though everything was--" He shakes his head. "I felt safe inside her."

Divad considers that. "I think-- Maybe we've been doing this wrong. I mean, you need control, but-- What you actually miss, the actual-- Experience of sharing-- The person you were inside was the one in charge. That's how it was for us, for Syd."

And for Lenny, David thinks, but focuses back on Divad. "You were the one in charge. I was inside you."

"Yes," Divad says. "I was-- Syd. And when Dvd-- took care of you through me-- He was Syd, too. You were inside of both of us."

"We were like that a lot," David says.

Divad nods. "It helped you feel safe, being inside us. Calm. Held."

David nods. He knows that feeling. He misses it so much. His whole life has been pain and fear but-- Not that.

"Never that," Divad soothes. "It was the one thing that always helped. Being together. Being held. Just like Amy's hugs, right?"

David thinks of Amy. He loves Amy so much, and when she holds him-- "Yes," he breathes.

"Remember-- The peace you felt with her?" Divad prompts. "All the bad just fell away."

David nods again.

"And Dvd-- He reminds you of Syd, right?" Divad says. "The way you feel about him. That-- Warm, soft glow, right here."

A hand touches over David's heart, and he opens his eyes to see-- Dvd is sitting close, his arm reaching across David's chest. His expression is calm and loving and-- Longing.

"Just breathe," Divad soothes. "Close your eyes and feel it."

David obeys. He feels the rise and fall of his chest-- Their chest-- And feels Dvd's hand move with it, steady and soothing. He thinks about-- Cary's hand over his heart. About Kerry holding him, like Amy. Tight hugs wrapping around him, holding him so close--

"Think about-- How much you want to hug Syd," Divad guides. "How good it felt to hold her hand. You want that feeling all over, right? You had it before, when you were inside her. She was all around you, holding your whole body."

"Yes," David says, softly. It felt so good to be inside her, it was-- Everything he always needed. Everything he missed. She was his system.

"She was," Divad soothes. "She held you all over. Feel it all again."

David remembers. The feeling is so strong-- The longing is so strong--

"Dvd's going to hold you, just like Syd did," Divad says. "Just like Syd."

The pressure on his chest fades into him, and then-- David feels it. The feeling. The feeling he had with Syd that made him feel--

Held. He feels held.

"That's it," Divad soothes. "Just like Syd. Just like Amy and Kerry. That's how they all hold you, just like this. That's how Dvd holds you. Like Syd."

Like Syd.

And then David's hand moves-- His system's hand moves. It rests over his heart. Their heart. He feels them breathing together, movements-- Synchronizing to their body. Feeling it together.

"David," their mouth sighs.

David opens their eyes. Dvd is inside him-- No. He's inside Dvd. And it feels-- Right.

He's not afraid. He thinks of Syd and he's not afraid.

He feels a thrill of excitement, a surge of relief, and realizes-- It's coming from Dvd. They're feeling it together, through their body. They're sharing everything.

"You're doing great," Divad soothes, happiness in his voice, in his eyes. "Just feel it. Make the good feeling strong."

They sit together, just breathing, their hand pressed to their heart. David can feel Dvd's happiness, his relief, his joy-- His love. Like Syd's love. The lightbulb in his lamp, warm and bright inside him.

Finally David swallows, speaks. "Are you-- Going to come in, too?" he asks Divad.

"Not yet," Divad says. "But we'll get there."

David feels another surge of happiness, relief, joy-- And realizes it's his own. He feels Dvd feeling it with him.

They hold it for a while longer, and then-- Dvd lets him go. David feels the loss, like he felt the loss with Syd. He feels like-- That was Dvd returning and now-- He's gone away. But they're the same shape. There's no long hair or wide hips. It's just his own shape. Their shape.

David lets out a long, shaky breath. "That was--" He struggles for the words but can't find them. It's too big. He turns to Dvd, who's sitting beside him again. He can see Dvd feels the same.

"Thank you," David tells them, heartfelt.

Chapter 142: Day 13: A bloodied, half-dead bird. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd braces herself, then walks into the infirmary. Her eyes catch on the empty bed where David was earlier. Past that is Oliver, clean and bandaged but still unconscious. Machines beep softly around him, and a medic sits close by, keeping watch. Opposite him is Cary’s empty physical projection, surrounded by similar machines. She thinks of Melanie's empty body, frozen, waiting.

Syd turns. "David, Doctor Orwell," she greets.

Past David is immediately relieved to see her. "Syd," he says, and the need in his voice is nothing compared to the need in his eyes.

Need for her. From a David she never met before-- Farouk gifted him to them, like a cat delivering a bloodied, half-dead bird.

"David and I have been getting to know each other," Doctor Orwell says, her voice calm and warm. The kind of voice doctors use with fragile patients. "He really wants to know where Amahl and Melanie are."

Syd nods. "So do we. Is it all right if I sit with him?"

"Of course," Doctor Orwell says, and smoothly stands. "Let me know when you're ready." She steps out into the hall, where Lenny and Ptonomy and Clark are waiting, listening. Watching through the surveillance cameras.

Syd takes the seat by the bed. She looks at Past David again, evaluating him, judging the words she's about to say.

This David has been trapped in-- Some kind of nightmare. Her David was. And now he's-- Separate. A living nightmare of-- Who David used to be. And now-- They have to wake him up. But after a whole year of nightmares--

They have to be careful.

"David, I need your help," Syd says. That's true. They can't lie to him, they have to tell him the truth but-- It has to be a truth he can accept.

Past David perks up, as expected. David always wants to help. "What, uh--"

"Amahl and Melanie," Syd says. "You know they're missing, right?"

"Missing?" Past David asks, immediately worried, edged with panic. "How can they be--"

"We don't know," Syd admits. That's true. "Everything's been-- Really strange this morning." True.

"Yeah," Past David says, with fervent agreement.

"Because of what happened-- There's another doctor here. You met him before. His name is Ptonomy and-- He needs to interview you, to-- Check on you, make sure that-- You're okay. And he needs to learn about Amahl's work." All true.

"His work?" Past David asks, a little panicky again. "But I don't-- You know all that better than me."

Syd doesn't correct him. Instead she says, "Ptonomy needs to hear it from you."

Past David takes that in. Now he's more worried than panicked. He lowers his voice, leans in. "Is-- Are we in trouble?"

"We just have to tell the truth," Syd soothes. "Everyone’s just-- Really confused right now, and-- People were hurt." True. "So it's very important that we tell Ptonomy the truth."

Past David glances over at Oliver, and-- He looks guilty and upset. "Syd, I-- I don't know how-- I don't have--" He lowers his voice again. "I don't have powers. It was the monster. I'm seeing things-- If it's back-- I'm not safe. No one's safe."

"I know," Syd soothes. "The monster is-- Very dangerous." True. "Doctor Orwell is going to do some tests soon, see if we can figure out-- If anything's inside you." True.

Past David breathes a sigh of relief. "Can she cut it out? The monster? Like Amahl did?"

"I'll make sure you get all the help you need, okay?" Syd says. True. She doesn't know what will save this David, but-- She has to try. "Is it okay if he comes in now?"

"Um, if you think so," Past David says, like-- It doesn't matter if he feels ready himself.

Syd gives his shoulder a comforting touch, still-- Disturbed by the lack of needles under her skin. She glance at Cary's empty body again, wondering, then calls, "Come in."

Ptonomy and Lenny walk in. They put Ptonomy in a doctor's coat, just to make things more official. Not the truth, but-- A minor deception.

Past David's eyes go wide, and his whole body pulls away, only stopped by the restraints. He stares at Ptonomy, then shuts his eyes tight. "Not real, not real," he chants under his breath.

"David, it's okay," Syd soothes. "They're real. I can explain, just-- Open your eyes, okay?"

Past David cracks open one eye. "They were in the lab,” he hisses under his breath.

"They were," Syd says.

"He exploded! She--"

"I know this is a lot for you," Syd soothes. "Lenny, could you come here?"

Past David stares as Lenny steps closer. She holds out her hand. Syd takes it. "See?" Syd says. "Real."

Syd lets go, and Lenny offers her hand to Past David, holding it close enough to his restrained hand that he can reach. He cautiously touches her.

"You're not--" Past David starts. "Human?"

"Oh, I'm human," Lenny says. "But yeah, this body? Not the real thing."

"Ptonomy and Lenny got hurt, a while ago," Syd explains. "Before they came to the lab this morning. And-- Because of how badly they were hurt, they were given-- Prosthetic bodies. It's a new technology, experimental, but-- Incredibly effective." All true.

Past David stares at Ptonomy and Lenny, fascinated, curious despite his fear. "So their real bodies--"

"They're somewhere else," Syd says. "But their minds are here with us."

She can see him accept that, but-- "Why are they here?"

"To help us," Syd says. "Ptonomy's a doctor, and-- Lenny's my friend."

"But she's-- Not a doctor?" Past David asks, wary again.

"No," Syd admits. "But she's my friend." That should be enough, and yet--

"I'm not supposed to see people who aren't doctors," Past David insists.

Past David has barely been anything except terrified or compliant or both, so this is clearly important. Syd could lie and say Lenny's a doctor, but--

"Not a doctor," Lenny says, casually. "But I've known plenty. I'm a-- Patient advocate. Ever heard of those?"

Past David shakes his head.

"You've been sick a lot, right?" Lenny asks. "It sucks. All these doctors doing things to you, and you already feel like shit. And the worst is when they get it wrong, when they're not helping you, but nobody listens because-- You're sick. It’s my job to make 'em listen. I keep my patients safe."

Past David stares at Lenny like she's a desert oasis that might be a mirage, like he's not sure she's real but he really wants her to be. He looks to Syd, uncertain.

"It's true," Syd says, glad she can say it. "Lenny's-- Really good at taking care of her patients. I guess-- That does make her a kind of doctor."

Past David seems to accept all that, and then-- Looks at Ptonomy.

"You gave us a scare this morning, David," Ptonomy says, his voice calm and warm. "But everything's okay. The nice thing about having a prosthetic body is-- If something goes wrong, you just-- Get a new body. If only it was that easy for regular bodies, right?"

"Yeah," Past David agrees, weakly. "I'm-- I'm really sorry."

"How about you make it up to me by helping me with some questions?" Ptonomy asks. "Syd and Lenny can stay, but I need to hear everything from you, in your own words."

"But-- Amahl--" Past David tries.

"We'll do everything we can to find him," Syd promises. True. "I know how much-- You depend on Amahl and Melanie.” An educated guess. “But we have to take care of you. You're-- Very important to us, David."

Past David gives her a soulful look. Even though every test they've run has told them this is David Haller-- Somehow it's that look that most convinces Syd.

And yet-- Whose soul is looking out of those eyes? Could it possibly be Farouk’s? She can't bring herself to accept that.

Lenny takes the chair next to Syd, and Ptonomy pulls a chair over and sits on the other side of the bed. He opens his tablet and starts a new file for his notes. He looks up at David. "How about we start with the basics? You were under the care of Amahl Farouk for a year, correct?"

"Yes," Past David says. "I mean-- I wasn't conscious for all of that. Um. There was the-- The coma--"

"And that was-- After the surgery?" Ptonomy prompts. Can she cut it out, Past David had asked.

“Yeah, um, I was— I don’t remember, but—“ Past David swallows. “I was in college, in my dorm and— They said I had a seizure. I was brought to the hospital and— Amahl found—“ He hesitates.

“It’s okay, David,” Syd soothes. “Just tell the truth.”

Past David doesn’t look certain at all, but— “I used to— See things. Hear things. There was— Something inside me, but— Everyone just—“ He glances at Lenny. “Thought I was sick. Crazy.”

“But they were wrong?” Ptonomy prompts. "And that's what Amahl found?"

"Yes," Past David says, with a little more enthusiasm. "He took the monster out. He believed me. No one's ever--" He swallows again, looks around the room, searching, then looks down. "And he said-- He needed me. To help him. So we could-- Cure madness."

"And do you know what that means?" Ptonomy asks. "To cure madness?"

"He didn't really-- Explain," Past David admits. "Amahl says-- If I know too much-- Then it won't work. The cure. He won't be able to-- Use me and--"

He's getting agitated again. He looks to Syd, needing and expectant, but she's not sure what he wants from her. When she does nothing-- He looks ashamed, like he did something wrong, and-- Her inaction is a punishment.

She hates Farouk so much right now. Wherever he is, she knows he's enjoying this.

"David, is there something you need?" Lenny asks. "How about some food? Or-- We could take off those restraints?"

"No," David says, firmly. "I'm not safe. And I'm not-- I'm not hungry." He slumps back, sullen, almost in tears.

Syd, Lenny, and Ptonomy all look at each other. It's clear that Past David has-- Very few reserves to deal with all this.

"Can you two give us a moment?" Syd asks.

"Of course," Ptonomy says. He and Lenny step away, but don't leave the room.

"David," Syd starts. "I know this is-- A strange question, but-- When you're upset, is there something that helps you feel better?"

"Amahl," Past David says, a few tears spilling down his cheeks. "I'm always safe with Amahl, that's what he says, but-- How can I be safe when he's not here? Why would he leave? If I did something wrong-- If he'd just-- Tell me--" His breath hitches. "What if he left because-- He can't-- Use me anymore? What if--" His face crumples and he sobs.

"David," Syd hushes, heart hurting for him. She takes tissues and gently dries his face, even though he keeps crying so many tears.

Eventually he calms, not out of any release, but-- He's just too tired and sad to keep going.

"I'm sorry," Syd says. "He shouldn't have--" She can't find an honest way to finish that sentence, not even a half-honest way. This is-- So much worse than they thought, and they already thought it was awful. They have to salvage this somehow, find-- Some way to get through to this David.

She wishes Kerry was here. When David was at his worst, Kerry was what he needed. She was brusque and direct and literal and-- She saw what he needed and she gave it.

Kerry might be right here in this bed, but Syd can't reach her. But this David-- No matter what he's endured, no matter how Farouk messed him up-- He's still David. And he works the same way David has always worked.

"Lenny," Syd says. "Could you undo the restraints on that side? I'll get this side." They both start opening the buckles.

"No," Past David protests, upset. "You can't-- The monster. Syd, the monster--!"

"The monster's gone, okay?" Syd soothes, but-- Firmer. More like Kerry. "We won't let it get back inside you. We'll keep you safe and we'll help you get better."

Past David just looks more bewildered now. When the restraints are off him, he pulls in on himself. He looks around, scared, panicky.

"Useless," Past David mutters under his breath, his whole body tense. "I'm useless. The monster-- He can't use me, he can't--" He's so upset he's in physical pain--

And then suddenly he lunges off the bed and-- Too fast for even Lenny or Ptonomy, he grabs a scalpel from the tray next to Oliver's bed. Shit. He went right for it, he must have been planning—

"David," Syd calls, alarmed. "David, please. Put that down."

"No Melanie," Past David breathes, and he seems-- Relieved. He gives a brittle, teary grin and warns them back with the scalpel. He went from depressed to panicked to suicidal so fast--

He yanks back one sleeve and then-- The scalpel drops from his hand, clatters to the floor. He stares at his arm. He presses the heel of his hand against his face, shakes his head, stares.

Lenny gets close enough and snags the scalpel with her shoe, kicks it back and away. David doesn't even notice.

"Not real," Past David mutters. He squeezes his eyes shut, opens them again. Shakes his head. "Not real, not real, not real."

Ptonomy and Lenny leap forward and grab him together. "NO!" Past David howls, and flails wildly. He screams and screams as they haul him back onto the bed and put him back in the restraints. He struggles against them and then collapses, panting, face flushed and wet. He keens like a wounded animal and tries to curl in on himself, but he can't.

"Jesus," Syd whispers, horrified. She thought-- David was so bad, after the trial. But Kerry--

But this David isn't that David. This isn't-- The David who was patched back together with parts of Divad and Dvd, who loved Benny, who had a Mom-Amy cocktail, who had years of misguided therapy that he somehow used to help himself. This isn't the David who was best friends with a defiant Lenny Busker for six years, and fell in love with Syd in a mental hospital, and forgot twenty years of horrific trauma.

This is the David who was too broken to survive even with his system helping him. And Farouk broke what was left. How can she begin to help him? Is there even anything left to save?

There has to be. There has to be, but--

"Ptonomy," Lenny says. "Take Syd. I'll stay with him. And take the fucking knife with you."

Ptonomy finds the scalpel in the corner, and takes the rest of the medical tools that were left by Oliver's bed. He gives them to the stunned medic. "If you need something sharp, use it and take it away. Got it? Standing order."

The medic nods.

Ptonomy's hand on Syd's back guides her out of the infirmary. Clark is in the hall, looking-- Regretfully unsurprised.

"Don't say it," Syd warns.

Clark raises his hands in surrender.

Syd paces away, paces back. "I just-- Wanted him to--"

"It was worth a try," Ptonomy says. "If it wasn’t, I would’ve stopped you. We didn't know how bad it was. Now we do."

"We barely got anything out of him," Syd says. She crosses her arms, angry at herself.

"We got more than we had," Ptonomy says. "I hate to say it, but-- What Past David needs is the Davids."

"He thinks they're the monster," Syd points out.

"He needs his system," Ptonomy insists. "And he needs telepathic therapy. If Oliver was awake he could relay, but-- We have to use what we have." At Syd's unhappy expression, he continues. "Look, I don't like it either."

"This is torture," Syd says. "For all the Davids and for us."

"Of course it is," Ptonomy says. "But we turned torture into therapy once. We can do it again."

"And how long did that take?" Syd challenges. "With a David who wasn't even-- Half as broken as this one? And what will all this do to David? We just got him back." Her voice catches and her eyes are wet.

"Syd," Ptonomy says, realizing. "David will be okay."

"We don't know that," Syd says, tightly. "We don't know anything. We let Farouk torture him every night, and now--" She swallows, tries to pull herself together. "I got better so Farouk couldn't use me. And he used me anyway. And-- I'm afraid to find out h-how."

"So am I," Ptonomy admits. "But we have to."

Syd tastes salt from her tears. "I know," she says.

"We won't let Farouk win," Ptonomy promises. "We're going to stop him."

"We can't even find him," Syd says. Hopes. Please god, let the soul in that body not be Farouk's. The mere idea makes her want to throw up. She swallows hard, wipes at her face. She wants so much to just-- drown herself in whiskey right now, and be miserable in the dark.

But she can't do that. She can't do that to the Davids. She can't do it to herself. But if she doesn't punish herself-- How can she feel better?

She gives a sobbing laugh at how insane that thought is, even though-- It felt perfectly sane for so long. She looks at Ptonomy and sees-- He's struggling, too. To stay calm, focused. To not get angry and push people away. To not pull back into his refuge.

She can't either. None of them can. Not if they want to survive this.

It feels like-- The hardest thing in the world to ask for help. To be vulnerable. Maybe with Amy it wouldn't be too bad, but-- Her relationship with Ptonomy is still--

But she can accept help. And he said-- If she needs help-- She just has to ask. Asking is so hard, but— She doesn't want to hurt herself, not when-- She just saw David--

"Ptonomy," Syd says, a tremble in her voice. "Could you-- Help me?"

Ptonomy looks at her, confused, and then-- Realizes. Eases.

He walks right up and pulls her into his arms. Pulls her right against him and holds her. Syd holds him back and lets her tears soak into his white coat.

Clark coughs. "I'll, ah, be in my office," he says, and gives them some privacy.

Syd gives a sobbing laugh against Ptonomy's shoulder. "He should've-- Had therapy, too."

"We'll get him eventually," Ptonomy says. He sounds better. "We'll get through this, okay? Together.”

Syd sniffs and holds him tighter.

Chapter 143: Day 13: David's soul is right here beside her. (Lenny)

Chapter Text

Once the others are gone and the infirmary is quiet, Past David settles. His tears stop and he lies limp on the bed, blank with numb despair. He tried to escape his pain the only way he knew how, and he failed, so now-- He's done. The turkey popped. He's still alive and breathing but that's about it.

Lenny doesn't need the relay to know all that. She's seen it before, up close and personal. When she first met David, she hated him for giving up. She thought he was weak, pathetic-- And she hated how that made her pity him.

She hates pity, she always has. She doesn't want to get it or give it. It's useless, worse than useless. Fuck pity. Life's shit, suck it up or die.

Not that she'd say that to David. Any David, ever. But she's sure said it to herself. The Davids got her started on her new foundation, but she thinks that might be her old one. She didn't bring her notebook with her, but she'll add it to her foundation work when she gets a chance. Maybe she'll talk to Syd about it, too. It's not exactly 'pain makes us strong' but--

For a while, right at the start, Lenny did what Syd did. She tried to teach David what she taught herself and it made him worse. She only figured that out because of all the memory work she's been doing, trying to just be-- Past Lenny again.

But Past Lenny's gone for good. The person Lenny was before she died-- She tried but she can't force herself back to that. It's not what she wants anymore. Maybe it never was.

Farouk forced David to be Past David again. He forced David back to what he doesn't want to be, night after night. And they just let it happen. She knew it was a bad idea but they couldn't think of anything better so they just let it happen. So Past David here, with nothing but despair in his eyes? Farouk did it but she knows that's on her. It's on all of them because it was their job to keep David safe and they sure as hell didn't.

And now Farouk's rubbing their noses in it. Fuck the shit beetle.

But she doesn't want to be angry right now. She can't look at this David and be angry around him, she can't re-enact that part of their lives. Even if it wasn't exactly this David who was dumped into Clockworks-- This is David. Lenny knows it. No matter whose soul is in there, she knows David and this is David.

She'll feel better when they have proof, though.

She looks Past David over again, weighing the options. She uses the mainframe to tell Clark to send in Doctor Orwell for the tests. Past David's not going to mind, he sure as hell won't put up a fight. He'll barely even notice anything's happening.

Then she gives Clark more orders. She has some ideas and she hopes they'll work. And even if they don't, it always cheers her up to send him scurrying.

Doctor Orwell comes in, followed by members of the research team who wheel in equipment. Doctor Orwell gives Past David a pitying look. Lenny holds her tongue.

"David?" Doctor Orwell says, gently. "We're just going to run a few tests, okay? They won't hurt, I promise."

Past David doesn't respond. He gives a slow blink, but keeps staring at nothing. He's still conscious, present, but-- He's not really here, either.

They wire Past David up with sensors and start recording. Lenny stays where she is, sitting in his line of sight, making sure he knows she's there.

"You're doing great," Doctor Orwell soothes, despite Past David's stillness. Lenny wishes she'd brought in her tablet so she could look at the data. She tells Clark to bring the tablet, too. And her notebook. She feels like she'll be here for a while.

The techs rearrange some sensors. They gently tilt Past David's head away and Lenny makes sure they tilt it back. As the tests continue, Lenny thinks Past David's eyes might be clearing a little.

For all the despair that David is capable of, she knows how hard he fights. He's always fought so hard to keep going, to stay in the world, no matter how bad things got. Farouk spent a year making him worse, but they're experts at helping Davids now. Lenny has absolute faith that they can fix this, with enough time. But time is the one thing Clark can't get for them.

Finally, a tech hands Doctor Orwell a stretched piece of fabric on a frame. Another tech points a camera at Past David. Doctor Orwell looks at the image and-- Breathes out in relief.

"Here," Doctor Orwell says, and hands Lenny the fabric.

Lenny sees-- A black and white video of herself and Past David. Everything in the video is faded and blurry except for Past David, who shows up vivid and inverted. One of the techs moves into frame, and he's inverted, too. But Lenny's image isn't.

Because this is the psychic filter, and Lenny's soul isn't in her android. She's not really here. But David is. David's soul is right here beside her.

Lenny breathes out in relief. Now she has other questions, but-- One step at a time.

"Okay, David, we're all done for now," Doctor Orwell tells him.

Past David blinks, focuses, then looks away. He doesn't even twitch while the sensors are removed, but once they're off he tries to curl up. It feels cruel to deny him that self-soothing, but they can't remove the restraints again. Not until he's-- A little more stable.

Lenny hates what they did to David after the trial, tying him up and abandoning him in a cell. Maybe Past David needs the restraints but she can make sure he's not abandoned or in a cell.

Once the research team is gone, it's just the two of them again. Lenny holds the image from the psychic filter in her head. He's David, he's David, he's David.

Clark arrives, carrying a closed cardboard box. Stacked on top are Lenny's tablet and her notebook. Finally.

"As requested," Clark says, lightly. He hands it all over. "Let me know if you need anything else." And then he's out like a shot. He's still too scared of Farouk to risk any David caring about him. Lenny wants to be mad at him for that, but-- If she had the choice, she'd stay the hell out of this mess, too.

She sets aside the notebook and tablet and turns to Past David. She stands up and puts the box on his lap.

Past David startles. He looks at the box, and then finally looks at her. There's a tiny spark of curiosity trying to burn through the bleak despair.

"That's for you," Lenny says. "You're my patient, and my patients get taken care of. Right?"

Past David gives a faint nod, though it's clear he's not sure what he's agreeing to. She pushes the button so his bed sits him up. He shifts to make himself comfortable in the new position, then stares at the box again. He tries to speak, then swallows, licks his lips.

Lenny takes the cup of water from his tray and puts a straw in it. She brings it to his mouth and he sips, then drinks. It's just the basics: physical comfort, thirst, curiosity-- But the basics are important. Sometimes that's all they've got.

When he's done, she takes away the cup. Gives him a moment. She waits until he reaches to open the box and is stopped by the restraints.

"Oh!" Lenny says, with exaggerated surprise. She slaps her forehead. "Sorry, I forgot." She reaches for the lid and pauses. "Okay if I help?"

Past David gives a short nod. Lenny opens the box and sits back, gives him time to look inside and take it in. If Clark got everything she asked for--

"It's a care package," she says, casually. "I give them to all my patients. I can get you anything you need, all you gotta do is ask."

"Um," Past David says, visibly trying to understand. "This is-- A lot."

"Well, your stuff got a little-- Blown up, so-- You get new stuff," Lenny says. She takes the box and moves it off his lap, then takes out an item at a time, going slow so she doesn't overwhelm him. "Most of it’s toiletries. Keep you fresh and clean." And they're all what David likes, or-- What he liked when he was younger. Amy helped with that. Lenny sets them aside. "There's entertainment. You like crossword puzzles?"

Past David nods.

"Me too," Lenny lies. She hates crossword puzzles, but she'll do them for David. "We'll do em together." She sets the crossword book on his lap. She was going to ask for some fashion magazines, but then she realized that the publication dates might be a problem. Past David thinks it's ten years ago. Not that she wants to keep him from finding out the year, but-- They can't give him too much to deal with at once.

"And finally, there's-- Candy!" Lenny reveals the packages of Twizzlers. She puts them down, then opens one of them and takes a deep sniff, and gives a longing moan.

Past David looks-- Faintly amused.

"These are my favorite," Lenny tells him, like it's a secret. "Problem is, this prosthetic body? It's great and all, but-- I can't eat."

"Really?" Past David asks, concerned.

"It's the worst," Lenny says, with feeling. "I miss eating so much. So you gotta eat for me, okay? Even if you're not hungry. Just, like, a tiny bite."

"How long--" Past David starts. He glances at the open bag, then back at her. "How long have you been--"

"A year," Lenny sighs.

Past David's eyebrows shoot up. "That long?"

"I got really hurt," Lenny says. "But I'm hoping I'll be back in my real body soon. Then I'm gonna steal all your Twizzlers and eat them myself."

She pulls the bag closer to herself, and Past David's eyes follow it. He leans forward, just a little, wanting.

Maybe it's cheating, knowing everything that makes David work. Manipulative. But they gotta play dirty to beat Farouk.

She takes a Twizzler and holds it out for him. He hesitates, then-- Takes a tiny bite. Chews. Takes another. And in no time at all, he's eaten the whole piece.

"Hungry?" Lenny teases.

"Um, yeah," Past David admits. "Can, um, I have another one? And-- More water?"

Lenny obliges. A little life comes back to Past David's eyes, and a little color to his cheeks. Lenny feels an intense wave of-- Not nostalgia exactly, she'll never be nostalgic for Clockworks, but-- For her and David surviving together, the two of them against the world. For the way he needed her.

Then she remembers how Farouk used that need for himself, and-- Hates him for stealing that need, hates him for giving it back.

"Um, Lenny?" Past David asks, concerned.

Lenny shakes it off. She puts everything except the crossword book back in the box and puts it next to Past David's legs. She wants it close to him so he keeps thinking about it. "How about we do an easy one?" she asks, holding up the book. She doesn't wait for an answer, but sits back in her chair and opens the book. She takes the pen from her notebook spiral and taps the clicker against her lip. "Five letters. Halo wearer."

Past David's sluggish, but even he can get that one. "Oh, um. Angel?"

She fills that in. "Eight letters. Added salt and pepper."

That takes more thought. "Uh-- Seasoning? Seasoned."

"Seasoned," Lenny agrees.

They do a few more words, and then-- "Um, Lenny?" Past David says. "You said-- If there's something I need--"

"You need it, you got it," Lenny says.

Past David musters a tiny smile for that. "I'm, uh-- Not sure when--" He looks at the clock, but that doesn't seem to help. He braces himself. "I need my medication."

Shit, Lenny thinks. "Sure, no problem," she says. "What's it called?"

Past David hesitates. "Amahl makes it. It's um-- An injection? I'm supposed to have it twice a day. Syd knows. She helps him with it."

"I'll talk to Syd about it," Lenny promises. Shit. She reaches out to Ptonomy and hopes he can give her something to stall with. He does. "Ptonomy needs to run some tests before you take anything. Will you be okay without your medication for a while?"

"I don't know," Past David says, worried. "It's-- It helps a lot."

"What's it do?" Lenny asks.

Past David closes his eyes. He's remembering. "It makes me feel-- Calm. Like-- Amahl is inside me. His-- Strength is inside me." He looks-- Almost happy.

Lenny wishes she could eat something just so she could throw it up. "Okay," she says, trying very hard not to show it. "Well, everything in the lab is gone, so-- We'll have to see if we can make more. If you still need it."

Past David gives an accepting nod. Then he turns-- Thoughtful. Or as thoughtful as his physical and mental exhaustion will let him be. He swallows, nervous, but-- Visibly resolving himself to something. Lenny just waits and pretends to work on the crossword.

"Lenny," Past David says, with obvious effort. "Can you-- Do something for me?"

"Sure," Lenny says.

"Can you-- Roll up my sleeves?"

"Sure," Lenny says again, keeping casual. "You warm?"

"No," Past David says. "I just-- Need to see my arms."

"Gonna give me a gun show, huh?" Lenny teases, but Past David barely reacts. He stares as she carefully rolls up one sleeve, then the other. Then he braces himself and turns his wrists, revealing-- Nothing. He didn't even scratch himself with that scalpel. He just dropped it in shock before--

Oh. Oh no.

She remembers-- Divad and Dvd's nightmare about-- A college-aged David killing himself. By cutting open his wrists.

That wasn't just a nightmare. It wasn't just some vision Farouk created. It happened to Past David. It happened to David. Fuck.

Past David stares at his unblemished arms. She can't tell if he's relieved or upset or confused or-- Maybe all of them? Maybe he just isn't processing it at all. If he had-- Scars on his wrists for however long and now they're gone--

"Am I dead?" he asks, and looks to Lenny with-- Pleading uncertainty.

"You think you're dead?" Lenny asks, and it feels like her calm expression is a mask. She wants to scream. She screamed a lot when Farouk had her. Even when she was quiet she was screaming. That whole year was just one long--

"Maybe I'm asleep," Past David says, and stares at his arms again. "Maybe I'm dreaming. I have-- Nightmares. They're not-- Like this, but-- This can't be real."

"What if it's real?" Lenny challenges, gently. "What if-- The past year was a dream, and now you're awake?"

Past David gives a disbelieving laugh. "That's crazy. I'm not crazy."

"Of course you're not," Lenny says. "It's just, like-- A thought experiment."

Something about that disturbs Past David. Lenny wracks her mainframe brain, but it's Ptonomy who figures it out first. Philosophy class. Divad.

Shit. She has to salvage this.

"I think therefore I am," Lenny quotes. "That's it, right? You're here, you're conscious, you're thinking. So you are."

Past David gives her a skeptical look.

"I'm just saying," Lenny continues. "Maybe you don't need to worry about what's real. Maybe it's all real, because-- It's what you experienced."

"Everyone cares what's real," Past David insists. "All the-- Doctors and-- Therapists and cops and--" He swallows. "People don't like it when-- The things you see-- Aren't the things they see."

"They don't," Lenny agrees.

"The things I saw weren't even the things I saw," Past David says, a little panicky and a lot sad. "My whole life was a lie. It was-- Tricks. Delusions. I was-- I wasn't even there at all."

Lenny doesn't know exactly what he means by that, but she dreads the moment they find out.

"You're here now, right?" Lenny prompts.

"I don't know," Past David says. "How can I know?"

"A friend of mine said, 'reality is a question of realizing how real the world is already,'" Lenny says. She misses Oliver suddenly, fiercely. All his weird poetry and confusing advice. Somehow he still made sense. She needs him to wake up so they can deal with this together.

"What does that mean?" Past David asks, frowning.

"Hell if I know," Lenny admits. "Reality's a pretty weird place, though. Weirder than people want to admit. That doesn't mean the weird shit ain't real."

Past David takes that in. He clenches his fists, relaxes them. "Maybe," he says, finally. "Will you-- Roll my sleeves back down?"

Lenny rolls them back down.

"Wanna do some more of the crossword?" Lenny offers.

"No," Past David says. "But could you-- Move the restraints so I can lie on my side? I won't try anything, I promise."

"I believe you," Lenny says, needing to say it. Past David keeps still as she moves the restraints to one side of the bed. She lowers the bed and helps him get comfortable.

She sits back down and picks up her tablet and notebook. She glances over to see Past David watching her, quiet and tired but-- Needing. He needs her, just like he used to. It's like getting a hit after being clean for too long.

She forces herself to look down again. She has work to do.

Chapter 144: Day 13: Farouk really was the monster. (David)

Chapter Text

The video of Lenny's conversation with Past David ends, and Ptonomy switches back to the live feed. Not much has changed, but Past David appears to be dozing, and Lenny's working on her tablet now instead of her notebook. She glances up at the surveillance cameras, acknowledging them.

David looks at the conference room camera and waves back. Lenny looks down at the tablet and sees him and gives a little smile. David smiles back.

"I've submitted my report to the mainframe," Doctor Orwell says. "As you saw, Past David does appear to be a younger version of David Haller. Both in body and mind."

"So it's really David?" Ptonomy asks. "And there's no sign of any other soul activity?"

"We're as sure as we can be," Doctor Orwell says. "We have limited data on the effects of multiple resident souls, but-- We can't find any sign of the Loudermilks or Farouk."

"It could still be him," Clark says. "Bring up the footage from last year. The attack on our compound."

David tenses as the main screen displays-- The old Division 3 compound, swarming with soldiers and-- Himself dancing through it, snapping his fingers and reducing the soldiers to body parts, to black dust.

David glances over at Syd, but she has her eyes fixed on the screen. She's been quiet since they all came back to the conference room. Her eyes are red from crying. Ptonomy discreetly asked them to give her some space.

The footage continues, and then-- Switches to a dark hallway. A familiar, shambling figure moves through it, body misshapen and clothes tattered. The image of the figure is inverted, just like Past David and the technician. David suddenly remembers his To Do list-- See the Devil with the Yellow Eyes. He'll have to cross that one off.

The video pauses.

"David's soul was still in there," Clark points out. "So was Lenny's. The only image we see is Farouk's."

"True," Doctor Orwell admits. "At this stage-- We can't be absolutely certain."

"Shouldn't he--" David starts. "Why doesn't he look like his body?" David thought the Devil was just a mask.

"Detachment syndrome," Doctor Orwell says.

"But that didn't happen to Oliver," Amy says.

"Oliver retained a connection to his body," Doctor Orwell says. "Farouk was ripped from his. Farouk also had to contend with being a parasitic soul, and-- The intense coherence of David's soul. Over the years, it seems-- His own self-image-- Lost its original shape."

"So he really was the monster," Dvd says, surprised. "That was actually him."

"What's the earliest you remember seeing him this way?" Doctor Orwell asks.

"I don't think--" Divad starts, concentrating. "It wasn't until we were older. We don't remember seeing Farouk the way he is now, but the Devil-- Changed, over time. Got worse. We just thought-- It was just making a scarier mask."

"Farouk's mind was breaking down," Ptonomy decides. "And that changed his appearance?"

"The isolated soul is-- The astral form," Doctor Orwell explains. "Each of the Davids retains his own self-identity, his own astral form. Same with Cary and Kerry. When our sense of ourselves changes, that change appears to be reflected in our astral form. So a David who believes himself to be twenty-one years old--" She brings up a comparison between the images of Past David, with the psychic filter inverted to look like the normal image. "His physical body is a year younger than his mind. If you look closely, there are subtle differences. Farouk didn't have the chance to modify the body he made for Past David. So you can see here, the astral form's hair is longer, and he's thinner, less youthful. There may be other differences."

The seams, David thinks. The inconsistencies.

"Doesn't he notice?" Amy asks.

"Organic bodies change every day," Doctor Orwell says. "And with everything going on, those differences are very easy to overlook. But that brings us to-- The one major difference so far. Ptonomy?"

"Yes," Ptonomy says, and pauses. "In the videos, you saw-- Past David was disturbed by his wrists. First when I interviewed him and then-- With Lenny."

"That's what stopped him from hurting himself," Divad says.

"Yes," Ptonomy says. “There's nothing wrong with the wrists on Past David's body, but that's not what he's expecting to see. We think-- The nightmare that Dvd and Divad shared several days ago-- Was actually David's nightmare."

"Nightmare?" David asks. He doesn't remember any--

But Dvd and Divad absolutely do, from their horrified reactions.

"No," Divad breathes, devastated.

Dvd is furious, livid. He's so upset he leaves, vanishing out of the room, his shields back up so David can't hear his thoughts.

Everyone else already knows, and they look like they wish they didn't. Even Clark.

"Can someone just tell me?" David says, at a complete loss.

"You killed yourself," Clark says, plainly. "Or tried to. There's supposed to be scars on both his wrists and they're not there."

David's hand comes up to his throat. The scar there is barely visible, even up close. It was mostly internal damage, bruising, but-- He still feels a twinge there, sometimes, where the cord bit deep. He looks at Amy, and then-- Divad.

"I don't remember," David says, dumbly. He doesn't know what else to say.

"I do," Divad says, voice rough with pain. "He-- That monster gave us your dream. You woke up terrified and alone and-- You called for us, you tried to wait for us-- And when we didn't come, you threw yourself away. We felt you die." Tears streak down his face. "But you were here and alive and that was the only thing that mattered."

David stares. "When--"

"This was-- The morning we all had cherry pie," Amy says, sadly. "You'd been-- Away all night. A mental projection. Divad and Dvd-- Were sharing your system's body. We didn't know what Farouk could do to your dreams. That's when-- We found out."

"Wait," David says, struggling. "I was-- I wasn't in our body, they were, so how did Farouk--"

"It must have been a dream from the previous night," Ptonomy says. "I went to Farouk, confronted him. I convinced him to let us give you compassion therapy. And it seems-- That night, he started-- His own treatment. You hurt yourself and-- He became your doctor. Beyond that-- We're still piecing it together."

Clark, Amy, and Ptonomy all straighten up.

"Dvd," Amy says, worried. "He's in the lab."

"Trashing what's left of the place," Clark mutters.

"I got this," Divad says, and vanishes. David looks at his empty chair, then follows him.

David stumbles back in surprise as the sofa crashes against the lab floor, sending splintered wood and cushions flying. A few dangerous chunks glance off David's force field. Another flies through Divad's chest, thankfully not making any actual contact.

"Are you done?" Divad says, tersely.

"I'm just getting started," Dvd promises, teeth bared. "I should pull this whole building down!"

"Dvd, stop," David pleads.

Dvd looks at David and gets more upset. He telekinetically picks up a chunk of sofa and hurls it across the room. The rubble trembles around them. David hears some terrified whispered thoughts and glances at the lab door. The cleanup crew are just on the other side.

"Feel better now?" Divad challenges.

"No," Dvd snarls. "You and your fucking bright ideas. It was David! Of course it was! You think the shit beetle would waste his time torturing a mental construct?"

"We had to let him dream," Divad says, tiredly.

"We could've tried!" Dvd says. His face is wet with furious tears. "We didn't even try, because you said it didn't matter. If David didn't remember, it didn't matter. Well fuck you." Dvd pulls back his fist, and when he punches the air, Divad takes the hit. Divad doubles over, hurt.

"That's enough!" David shouts, getting between them. "You know this won't help. You know. Don't let Farouk destroy everything we've built!"

Dvd takes a step back. He looks away, ashamed, and then-- He starts sobbing.

David finds a cleared spot by the wall and sits down, then steps out of their body. He marches right up to Dvd and holds him close, hugging him with all his might. Dvd clings to him, trembling, wailing, pawing at him. He's too far gone for words, but then--

"Don't ever--" Dvd whines. "Please don't ever--" He pulls back and his eyes are haunted.

It sinks in, what Divad said. Farouk gave them his dream. So they lived it, so-- Even if in the dream, David was just killing himself-- For Divad and Dvd--

And it's not even the first time. The first time--

David swallows, feeling the ghost of the cord across his throat. He realizes-- Even without his body, he feels it. Like Past David and his wrists. If Past David steps out of his body, will the scars be there?

David knows they will be.

Dvd bursts into tears again. David holds him, tries to soothe him. But this pain is too huge to be soothed. It's so much pain.

And it's not just Dvd.

David looks to find Divad, and sees-- He's in their body. Still on the floor, hugging himself, looking just as haunted as Dvd. David doesn't know how to help both of them, but then--

Amy, Ptonomy, Syd. Thank god.

Amy and Ptonomy falter as they walk in. Amy goes stiff, panicky. Ptonomy doesn't look much better.

"I got this," Syd tells them, and sends them back out. She tugs up her gloves, makes sure her skin is covered, and then-- Sits down with Divad and holds him. Divad clings to her, his sobs tight and sharp.

§

The lab is a disaster, so they take Divad and Dvd to Syd's room to rest. David's never seen them this bad. No matter how awful things got, the two of them have always been there for him. The way they used to work, David took the pain for their system. He tried to spare them. But when the pain was too much--

He failed, too. It wasn't just them. And his failures might be the worst of all. Farouk tricked him both times, made him think he was alone, made him think that-- It was okay for him to throw himself away.

It's not okay. It was never okay, it was never--

He wishes he could kill the delusion that makes him-- That tells him he's a broken plate. It feels weak right now, despite everything Farouk has thrown at them today. The idea of killing himself feels absolutely wrong.

But he's lived with that delusion for a long, long time, and he knows its claws are in deep. It was only two weeks ago that he was just like Past David, strapped down because destroying himself felt like the only answer. And even beyond the two times he directly tried to take his own life, he can't count how many times he's thought about it, dreamed of it, begged for it. Oblivion, release. Please, please, please, just make it stop.

Pain doesn't make it stop. What makes it stop is--

He is David. He survived. He didn’t deserve what happened to him. He belongs to himself. He is love.

It's a strange thing, for this to be the moment he finally accepts it. He is love. It still feels new, tentative, a little strange. But he won't refuse it. The people he loves loved him so much, he had to love himself.

He worries he took too much. He's always been-- Something of a black hole of need. But he was being tortured. No one can heal when they're being tortured.

He told Divad and Dvd that it was the right choice, letting him sleep and not remember. No matter what happens, it was the right choice. It was the only choice if they wanted David to be healthy enough, strong enough to save himself.

They just-- Didn't expect that goal to be so-- Literal.

There's a soft knock on the door. It's Amy. David steps out into the hall so they can talk without disturbing his headmates. Maybe a futile gesture when they always hear his thoughts, but--

"Hey," David says, and he barely gets the word out before Amy hugs him. He startles, but gratefully hugs her back. He looks past her and sees-- Syd. She's waiting a discreet distance away.

David lets Amy break the hug.

"Hey," Amy answers, finally. She's still shaken from the lab. David starts to ask how she feels, but she stops him. Pauses, then-- Meets his eyes. "Division 3's hired-- Trauma therapists. Good ones. Ptonomy and I-- We just met with them."

David only feels relieved. "I'm really glad," he tells her, meaning it.

"We should have done this sooner," Amy admits. "But we-- Had to put everything we had into--" She pauses. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," David says, honestly. "It's been-- A rough morning, but--" He gives a wry smile. "I'm really okay."

Amy hugs him again. She sighs against him. He rests his cheek against her hair.

"Are you okay?" David asks.

"No," Amy says, honestly. "I have-- PTSD from-- Dying twice. It's been so hard to hold on to myself without my body. If it wasn't for Syd, I would've just-- Drifted away like Oliver, and I still might. I don't want to lose myself. I don't want to lose you or Divad or Dvd or-- And I'm so worried about Cary and Kerry and Oliver and-- All of us."

"That's a lot of worrying," David admits.

Amy gives a sharp breath out. "It's worse when I'm not worried. When I'm--"

David waits, but she doesn't finish.

"If you start to drift again, can Syd--" David starts.

"Yes," Amy says, certain and relieved about it. "We won't wait for it to get bad again. We shouldn't-- Wait until things get bad to get help."

David nods. He glances back at the door. "Maybe-- I think--"

"Yes," Amy agrees. "When they're ready-- And even if they're not ready," she says, firmly. "I won't let any of my brothers suffer when I know there's-- Real help for them."

"They're going to be terrible patients," David realizes.

"Oh, the worst," Amy agrees. "And speaking of terrible patients, you should get something to eat."

"Oh, Divad's in our body," David says.

Amy stares, surprised. "But you feel--" She puts her hand on his chest.

"Yeah," David says. "I, uh-- Learned how to do this for Syd. Like-- She did for me." They both made a mess of things. But they were-- Turned the wrong way. Now they're not. "Maybe get Divad something?"

"Of course," Amy says, but she's still staring at him in amazement. "I'll, uh-- Put in an order. Will they mind if I-- Sit with them?"

"I think-- They'll be happy to see you," David says. He thinks of Past David's reaction to Amy and-- He has to find a way to fix that. To undo whatever lies Farouk made him believe, in his nightmares.

He has to find a way to undo a lot of lies. It won't be easy. Farouk messed with his head for a whole year. But he refuses to let the monster win.

He watches as Amy goes in to sit with his headmates. He looks at the three of them, at his family, and loves them so much, and knows they love him.

He can do this. He can do this. He takes a deep breath and goes to join Syd.

"I, uh, guess you heard that," David says, self-conscious. "Syd, I'm--"

Syd stops him with a gloved finger to his lips. She hesitates, realizing she might have-- Overstepped. "Sorry," she says, taking her hand back.

David looks at her, and then-- Offers his hand. She takes it, eases. Gives him one of her little smiles.

They head downstairs together.

Chapter 145: Day 13: We take consent very seriously here. (Past David)

Chapter Text

David misses his routine.

He's worried about Amahl, of course. He's worried about the monster, he's worried about a lot of things. Nothing makes sense. But what he misses most is the routine, the reliable sameness of every day, even when things changed. He misses Amahl taking care of him, helping him eat and think and exist. He misses the massages and the spicy food and the bitter coffee and--

Some things haven't changed, not really. Syd's still here. He's still a patient. Doctors are still testing him. It actually-- Made him feel better to be tested. That was always the first thing they did after breakfast.

Time feels strange. It's the middle of the day but it feels like he should be asleep. He dozed for a while, and then-- Woke up. No screaming, no nightmares. Maybe because this is the nightmare. Can he have a nightmare inside a nightmare? Does going to sleep in a dream make him awake?

There was food waiting for him when he woke up. Lenny watched him eat it. It wasn't Amahl's food. Syd must have-- Not had the chance to go pick up more from Amahl's mom. He wonders if they told her yet, that her son is missing. And Melanie.

If Melanie was here, David would feel terrible about the way he's thinking about her. She's part of Amahl's family, he should miss her. But he's just relieved she's not here. Her not being here means-- No one knows what he's thinking. And there's no one to stop him from--

Well. Not no one. But if Amahl doesn't come back-- Surely at some point they'll just let him go. What could they possibly need him for now?

They do still have questions about Amahl's work. David doesn't know why they need him for that when they have Syd, but Lenny said Ptonomy would be back with more questions.

After he ate, Lenny cleared the infirmary bathroom of anything sharp or potentially dangerous— Though David silently noted that the mirror was real and-- Potentially useful. Then she let him out of the restraints. She wouldn't let him close the door but she faced the other way to give him privacy. She said not to worry because she doesn't 'swing that way.' That made him feel better, more at ease. He doesn't know why.

Lenny put him back in the restraints, sitting up this time, and they’ve been doing more of the crossword. And then— A man comes in. The man with the scar on his face. Presumably he doesn't have a prosthetic body, with a scar like that. David's seen him before, in the lab and again here with the care package. Is he a doctor, too? He's not wearing a white coat.

"Lenny, David," the man greets. "My name is Clark. Ptonomy's busy, so I'll be continuing your interview."

David gives him an uncertain look. David looks to Lenny, but she's relaxed.

"It's all right," Clark says. He has a nice, calm voice. "I'm not a doctor, but-- I am in charge of this facility. Amahl and Melanie reported to me. So do Syd and Lenny and Ptonomy. It's my job to take care of everyone here, make sure they have what they need. Are you enjoying your care package?"

"Um, yes," David says. He ate more of the Twizzlers, and he even got to use some of his new toiletries. They were just the kind he liked. "Thank you."

Clark smiles, but doesn't show his teeth. He opens his tablet -- he has one just like Lenny's -- and taps on the screen. "I'm glad to hear it. Let's see--" He taps again. "The seizure, the operation-- The parasite was removed, and then you were put into a-- Medical coma."

David nods. "To heal."

"Of course," Clark says, and types into the screen. "But you don't remember any of that."

"No," David agrees. "Amahl told me when-- I woke up."

"Do you know how long you were in the coma?" Clark asks.

"No," David admits. "But it was-- Weeks. Maybe a couple of months, I'm-- Not sure."

Clark makes another note. "Did it bother you, not knowing? All that lost time?"

The question surprises David. He thinks about it. "No, I guess-- I'm used to that."

"You've lost time before?" Clark asks.

"Yes," David admits, not sure-- How much he should say. Amy didn't believe him. He's not supposed to talk about mutants, even though-- He's not a mutant. Better play it safe. "I'm sick."

"Sick how?" Clark asks, and gives him an expectant look.

David doesn't know how to answer that.

"You had a previous diagnosis of schizophrenia," Clark continues, when David doesn't answer. "Do you still feel that diagnosis is valid?"

"No," David says, certain of that, at least.

"You heard voices, saw things," Clark says, reading from something. "You had delusions that something was living inside you."

"Yes," David says, grasping at that. "The monster. Amahl took it out."

"The parasite," Clark says. "That's what caused your symptoms."

"Yes," David says, relieved.

"And when the parasite was removed, and you woke up from your medical coma, the symptoms were gone?"

"Yes," David says, certain, then-- Falters. "I mean, they were gone, but-- They came back."

Clark makes a note. "When?"

"Um, today," David says. "When I woke up."

"Describe your symptoms."

"Hallucinations," David says. "Voices, and then-- And everything hurt, but that's-- New, so--" He swallows.

"Are you experiencing any of these symptoms now?" Clark asks.

"I don't know," David says. "Nothing feels-- Real or-- Right. I don't know if I'm awake." If Amahl was here, David knows that-- Amahl would help him figure it out. But Amahl isn't here.

Clark gives a thoughtful hum and writes some more. Then he pauses, considering. "With the return of your symptoms, do you believe the parasite has also returned?"

"Yes," David says, with feeling. "Can you-- Can someone take it out again?"

"Let's take this one step at a time," Clark cautions. "We don't want to put you through any unnecessary surgery. Especially if your previous treatment was-- Not as successful as it appeared."

David stares at Clark. "Amahl-- He took it out," he defends, even though--

"Diseases can be deceptive," Clark says. "I encourage my staff to work-- Across traditional boundaries. This helps us find better solutions. Did Amahl consult with any other doctors?"

"Um, his wife," David offers. "Melanie."

"Doctor Melanie Farouk?" Clark asks.

David nods. "And-- Syd helped. But she's-- Still in med school. Her specialty is-- Touch therapy."

Clark makes more notes. "And what was Melanie's specialty?"

David hesitates. "Trauma." It's not a lie. It's just not the whole truth.

"And Syd's relationship to Amahl and Melanie?" Clark asks.

"Oh, she's their daughter," David says. Clark must know all this, if he's in charge, but they want David to say it for some reason. "Sydney Farouk. She'll be a Doctor Farouk, too." He musters a small smile.

Clark pauses. David looks over at Lenny, and Lenny looks up from her tablet and gives him an encouraging smile.

"Can I have some water?" David asks. All this talking has made him thirsty.

Lenny obliges. He's really glad she's here. Especially since Syd hasn't come back. He hopes she'll come back soon. He needs his medication, his touch therapy--

"And no other doctors?" Clark says, continuing. "No one else?"

"Amahl said it was important to limit my social contact," David says. "I wasn't even allowed to see Syd for months and-- She was there the whole time. She's not-- In trouble, is she?"

"We just need to understand what happened," Clark soothes. "Let's talk about your treatment. I'm afraid-- A lot of equipment was destroyed this morning. We're missing a great deal of information. So we need to reconstruct what happened, fill in the blanks."

"Oh," David says, realizing. God, all of Amahl's work-- The monster destroyed it? Was all that, everything he went through-- Was it all for nothing?

Maybe he shouldn't be surprised. He ruins things, that's what he does. It's all he's good at.

"David?" Clark prompts, concerned.

"What's the point?" David asks, needing to know. "If Amahl's gone and-- His work's gone-- What's the point?"

Clark considers the question. He taps on his tablet, and then-- "You told Ptonomy, Amahl's goal was to 'cure madness.'"

"Yes," David says.

"You want to be useful," Clark says. "To make the world a better place. You don't want-- Other people to be treated as you've been treated."

"Yes," David says, surprised.

"Everyone here wants to make the world a better place," Clark says. "But that's not an easy thing to do. Sometimes the more-- Certain you are that you're right, the easier it is to be wrong. To make mistakes. And there's two ways to deal with that. You can let your mistakes eat you alive, or-- You can learn from them. Try to be better."

They're nice words, but-- "What if you can't?" David asks.

"You can't be better?" Clark asks.

David shakes his head.

"Then why did you agree to Amahl's treatment?" Clark asks.

"I didn't," David says, and-- Surprises himself. Well, he sort of did, but— Amahl chose him, needed him. David couldn't say no.

"You didn't sign any consent forms?" Clark asks. "We take consent very seriously here."

David feels at a loss. "But I'm-- Sick."

Clark gives a disapproving sigh. "Amahl should've known better. But you know how he is. He gets very-- Passionate about his work. A little carried away. We'll get that taken care of. Maybe Lenny can talk to you about patients' rights."

David has no idea what that means. He looks to Lenny, and she seems confident, pleased.

"Oh, absolutely," Lenny says. "You're gonna learn so much."

All of this is a little overwhelming for David. Thankfully Clark and Lenny move on.

"Let's get back on track," Clark says. "Tell me about-- A typical day for you. You slept in the lab?"

"Yes," David says, relieved to focus back on Amahl again. "Me and Amahl and Melanie. Uh, Syd stayed--" He falters, unsure. "She stayed home. But she came in every morning with our food. Amahl's mom made it for us."

"Very cozy," Clark says. "So you woke up, Syd arrived with breakfast--"

"No," David says. "I have-- Nightmares. Bad ones, so-- I'd wake up, and Amahl would-- Comfort me." He can't help but blush. It all feels so much more intimate now that he's telling someone else. "Then we'd have coffee. The three of us. And then-- Syd brought breakfast, and we all ate together. Like a family." He pauses, a wave of-- Nostalgia and melancholy coming over him. "Then I got my first shot. Amahl used to do that one, but then Syd took over."

Clark makes lots of notes. "That's the medication you requested?"

David nods. "I was nervous about it, but-- It really helped."

Clark nods. "And then?"

"Tests," David sighs. "They took most of the morning."

"What kind of tests?"

"Um, a lot," David says. "Amahl needed to track-- My mental and physical condition. He needed to know-- Everything about me so--" He trails off, unsure again. "So I could be his key."

"I'd like to compile a list of all the tests he did," Clark says. "Lenny, can you help with that?"

"Aye aye," Lenny says.

"Let's move on," Clark says. "What happened after the tests?"

"We'd go to the garden for lunch," David says.

"The one on the roof?" Clark asks.

"No, the one out back," David says. There's another garden? That would've been nice. And they were on the top floor so-- It was right over their heads.

Clark writes. "And then?"

"We'd go back to the lab, and-- Take a nap together. To make up for-- Not getting enough sleep." David feels embarrassed again. It didn't really bother him when it was just the three of them, or even when Syd was there. But talking to-- Outside people about-- The way they worked-- "But I'd have another nightmare, so-- Amahl had to--" He trails off.

Clark doesn't seem bothered. "And then?"

"I'd have my session with Melanie."

"And what did you talk about?"

"Trauma," David says, reluctantly. He knows Amahl wouldn't have made him have those sessions if they weren't important, but-- They always felt like torture to David. Even more than the tests. "The-- Bad things the monster-- The parasite-- Did to me."

Clark gives him a thoughtful look. "And what exactly did the parasite do to you?"

David doesn't want to answer that.

"We'll get back to that later," Clark says, and makes another note. "What next?"

David takes a breath. "Um. Amahl had to-- Comfort me again--" God, he was just-- So useless. He couldn't get through anything without falling apart. No wonder Amahl-- David's eyes tear up and he turns away, ashamed. "Sorry."

"Take your time," Clark says.

Lenny takes a tissue and dries David’s eyes. She gives him a brief touch to his shoulder and he wishes she'd touch him more, but he can't-- Ask for that. He doesn't deserve it anyway.

"We're almost done, okay?" Lenny soothes. "That's a pretty full day, right?"

"Yeah," David says, sniffs. "Um. Then--" He hesitates. This feels even more intimate than the comforting. "I'd get a massage. To help my body-- Heal."

Clark pauses. "And that was-- Syd's job? The massage?"

"Eventually," David admits, his face hot. "But it was-- Amahl's first. He--" He swallows. God, he can't-- "And then I'd rest and then-- We'd have dinner. Amahl gave me the-- Second dose." Comforted him again. "He'd tell me stories about-- His life and-- Then we'd go to bed."

"Okay," Clark says, accepting. "And that was a typical day for you?"

"Yes," David says, relieved that's over. "That was-- Pretty much every day. I mean, some things changed, Syd wasn't there for a long time, but-- That was our-- Routine."

"Very helpful," Clark says. He taps at the screen and then closes it. "That's it for now. I'll let you rest." He gives Lenny an acknowledging nod, and then he's gone.

David breathes out, shaky. He doesn't know why-- It should have made him feel better, thinking about all that. And it did, but-- It didn't. He doesn't know why.

And even if Clark said-- They just need to understand what happened-- David can't help but feel like-- They're in trouble. Amahl is in trouble. Amahl-- Did something wrong. That doesn't seem possible, but-- Clark is-- Amahl's boss and-- He said--

Amahl should've known better? What does that mean?

He was starting to feel okay before, but now--

"That was a lot, huh?" Lenny says, sympathetic. "We'll deal with all that other stuff later. You wanna lie down again?"

David nods. Lenny adjusts the bed, adjusts the restraints. Adjusts the pillow under his head so-- The crown on his head doesn't hurt. More than it already does, anyway.

He remembers the other David wearing the crown. Taking it off and then-- Putting it on him. Was that real? It must have been real. The crown feels extremely real. And the other David felt--

David closes his eyes and tries not to think about anything at all.

Chapter 146: Day 13: He made a you that needs him. (Clark)

Chapter Text

Clark has not enjoyed the past two weeks. Hell, he hasn't enjoyed the past year, or any of his work since he made the mistake of not pressing the button faster at that swimming pool. But he walks out of the infirmary feeling good, feeling very good about how well that went.

It's been a while since he got to really stretch his interrogation muscles, and this was a very successful interrogation. He'll have to use telepathy as a tool more often. And watching Past David start to doubt "Amahl"-- Clark's going to savor that for a while.

He savors it for the length of his walk back to the conference room. And then he steps inside.

It's like another bomb went off, but this time it left the furniture intact. Clark sobers and closes the door behind him. He puts down his tablet, takes his seat, and clears his throat. No one notices.

He surveys the wreckage. Divad and Dvd are back, they obviously-- Heard Past David's relayed thoughts and came down from Syd's room. The door opens and-- Ah, there's Amy. They must have teleported down and she followed. Android bodies can't go pale, but she looks like she'd go pale if she could. She looks at the Davids, at Ptonomy and Syd, and sits down heavily.

Ptonomy looks even worse than he did after going back to the lab. And Syd--

Clark has no regrets about getting the truth out of Past David. They needed to know what they're up against. Now they do. He's confident they'll get the rest of the story, too.

Clark gives them a few minutes. He reviews his notes, adds some items to the therapy tasks list. After being stuck on the outside of Ptonomy's therapy plan, it feels good to be taking charge again. But when he's done and everyone's still in a state of numb, horrified despair, Clark decides enough is enough.

"We need a plan," Clark tells them.

Gradually, everyone turns to him. They don't look capable of making any kind of plan right now, much less an effective one. But they have to start somewhere.

"We have an unstable mutant in our infirmary," Clark continues. "And unless we want to keep him prisoner for the rest of his life, or let him--" He decides to skip the shock tactic. They're all shocked enough. "We need to figure out what to do with him. And we need to figure out what to do about Farouk."

Ptonomy engages first, unsurprisingly. "We already have a plan."

"No, we had a plan," Clark says. "It was a good plan, but it wasn't good enough. We left an opening for Farouk and he took it. Syd, strategy is your department. Any ideas?"

Syd struggles to focus. That's fine. At least she's struggling. And then finally: "He'll know. Whatever we say or think-- He'll know."

"Yes," Clark admits. "Which means, unfortunately-- Deception is off the table."

"It's not 'off the table' for him," Syd says, angry now. Good.

"Everything he did to David, he did for a reason," Clark insists. "So what was the reason?"

"Control," Ptonomy says. He's starting to recover. "He had to let us help David, but he couldn't give up control. So he made-- His own version of-- What we were doing."

"He was jealous," Dvd declares. He's seething. "He couldn't stand that we were getting David back."

"He put himself between us," Divad says, pained. "He took away-- Everything David needed and--"

"Traumatic bonding," Ptonomy says. "He tortured David and made himself-- The only source of comfort. With-- Nightmares, medical and psychological torture-- He threw everything he could at David when-- He was already in a deeply traumatized state."

"To make David trust him," Syd says. "Not a mask. To make him trust Amahl Farouk."

Everyone looks at David. David looks back at them.

"So how does making-- Past David trust Farouk, make David trust Farouk?" Clark asks them.

"It doesn't," David musters.

"But he wants it to," Clark says. "He's obsessed with you. Even now that he has his body back, he refuses to let you go. And we know how angry it makes him that you don't need him back. So he made-- A you that needs him. That doesn't need-- Anyone here. Your system, your family, your friends. Just him."

"And me," Syd says. "Was that-- Me? Did he go into my dreams? Did he use me to--" She cuts off, looking ill.

"Do you remember anything from your dreams?" Ptonomy asks.

"Nothing like that," Syd says. "But if I didn't-- Wake up during the dream--"

"It's possible," Divad admits.

"What about Melanie?" Amy asks. "Does this mean-- He has her soul?"

"We should assume he does," Ptonomy sighs. "On the plus side, that means Melanie isn't lost on the astral plane. It means-- She's been here with us the whole time, trapped inside Farouk."

"He likely used her the same way he used Lenny and Oliver," Clark says. "Wore her as a mask, or controlled her to make her think and act how he wanted."

"Melanie Farouk," Divad says. "And Sydney Farouk. He made a family." He looks at David. "Because that's what you want most."

David takes a deep breath, lets it out. He looks at Syd, she looks back.

"How far did this go?" Ptonomy asks. "He got David to accept him as his father. How?"

"Me," Amy says, unhappily. "He used me, somehow. He couldn't have actually reached my dreams, but-- He made a mask of me before. He made the-- Fake me turn on David, reject him."

"Farouk removed David's system and then replaced it," Ptonomy decides. "And then he did the same for his family. That's a hell of a lot of trust."

"So we break it," Clark decides. "We tell him the truth. Turn him against Farouk."

"That's not going to be easy," Divad warns. "He thinks we're the monster. He thinks Amy hates him. He won't listen to us."

"Syd will tell him," Clark counters. "He trusts her. He'll believe her."

"No," David says, certain.

"Why?" Clark challenges.

"Because if we do that-- We're telling him he's crazy," David says. "We can't tell him he's crazy. He-- I lived that year. It happened. It was real. Just like-- The twenty years of my life I can't remember are real." He rubs at his face. "Using Syd-- All that will do is make him not trust her. And he's already starting to do that. Whatever-- Relationship I had with Syd in that place-- It wasn't like the one I have with her now. It's not strong enough."

"Maybe he couldn't use the real you," Amy says to Syd. "Wouldn't your powers have-- Protected you? They did before."

"The fake Clockworks," Syd realizes. "Farouk tried to change me, but-- He couldn't." She looks at Ptonomy and-- Then at the Davids. Hoping.

"Amy’s right," Divad decides. "Your powers-- Preserve your sense of self. If Farouk pulled you into David's dreams-- He wouldn't have been able to control you. That means-- That Syd--" He looks at David. "Had to be a mask. I'm sorry."

David closes his eyes, visibly struggling. Syd is massively relieved, then sees David's reaction and sobers.

"He really-- Wants me for himself," David says, voice shaky. He gets a needing look that's disturbingly similar to Past David's. Clark's starting to realize it's his "please help me I'm being tortured" look. It's the same look that got its hooks into Clark's heart the first time they met, when Clark was the one torturing David. Though compared to all this--

"We need to talk about David's treatment," Clark says.

Everyone's confused for a moment, and then-- They look at David, too.

"The crown's off," Dvd defends.

"By necessity," Clark says. "Not because David has robust mental health."

"You're right," Ptonomy sighs, and turns to David. "The point of all this is to get you and your system healthy and strong so Farouk can't break you. Farouk made a hell of a play but that has to stay our primary goal."

"We have to help me," David insists. "Past David. We have to help Past David."

"We will," Ptonomy promises. "We are. But if helping him hurts you, that's going to put you right into Farouk's hands. And we can't make that mistake again."

"How am I supposed to think about anything else when he's in my head?" David asks, upset.

"Let's ask your system," Clark says. "Divad? Dvd?"

"It's not easy," Divad admits. "Being forced to hear David's-- Suicidal thoughts--"

"Yeah," Dvd agrees, quietly.

"Lenny's keeping him calm," Ptonomy points out. "Does that help?"

"Yes," David says, easing. "I still feel-- How he feels, but-- It's better."

"The relay only gives us his thoughts," Ptonomy says. "How does he feel?"

"Awful," David admits. "Confused, hurt, scared. Like-- Everything he loved and trusted was taken away from him. Because Amahl left. Farouk. Because Farouk left."

Clark frowns, and exchanged a concerned look with Ptonomy. "Do we have to worry about-- Mental contamination?"

"Oliver was fine," David insists.

"Oliver is extremely not fine," Clark counters. "He needs a hell of a lot more help than he's been getting. But he isn't Farouk's target, you are. Right now this entire organization has one goal: to protect you from Amahl Farouk. That's not just our priority, that's the world's priority. Because if he gets you, the world is fucked."

David stares, startled.

"You're a god, David," Clark says, trying to impress this truth on him. "You're more powerful than any mutant that’s ever existed. You're more powerful than entire armies. And power is the only thing Farouk cares about. Not you. He does not care about you. He wants to own you, that's all."

"I know that," David insists.

"Do you?" Clark challenges. "Because the David in the infirmary doesn't. And now his thoughts are in your head. We need to consider the possibility that-- Letting Past David live--"

"No," Dvd says, firmly. "Absolutely not."

Clark stares at him, and Dvd stares right back. "Okay," Clark says, backing down.

"Never," Dvd warns, absolute. "Never even think that again."

Clark holds up his hands in surrender.

"Let's all take a breath," Ptonomy says. "We've had a hell of a shock, a lot of shocks, and there's gonna be more. Farouk's favorite weapon, remember? And we counter that by working together. By not letting ourselves be scared into making choices that we'll regret. Is that clear?" He gives Clark a pointed look.

"Crystal," Clark accepts.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "Okay. David, your mental health is our first priority. But Past David's thoughts are in your head and we have no way to shield you from them. That means his mental health is also our first priority."

"Yes," David agrees. Divad and Dvd both nod.

"Have you ever felt this way about anyone else?" Ptonomy asks. "That their thoughts were yours?"

"I didn't even know about my powers for most of my life," David admits. "I just-- Thought I was crazy."

"And since you found out your powers are real?" Ptonomy asks.

David considers the question. "I hear people's thoughts. But I know they're not mine. Even Dvd and Divad, and-- Their thoughts are pretty loud."

"Dvd, Divad," Ptonomy says, turning to them. "We assumed that David's thoughts were overwhelming for you because you didn't hear anyone else's. Is it possible that-- It's something unique to David's powers?"

They consider the question. "I don't-- Think so," Divad says. "Now that we're all sharing-- It doesn't feel like David's mind is stronger than Dvd's."

"Or Divad's," Dvd adds.

"He is me," David says. "I know I keep saying that, I know-- He literally was me, but-- He feels-- It's not the same as with Dvd and Divad. Which seems crazy, I mean-- We share a soul."

There's a thoughtful pause.

"What if," Clark starts. "What if he is you?"

"What do you mean?" David asks.

"We'll confer with Doctor Orwell," Clark says. "But-- We know Farouk can directly manipulate souls. What he did to the Loudermilks. You feel-- Drawn to Past David? Connected?"

David nods.

"So you think," Divad starts, "that Farouk somehow-- stretched David's part of our soul so-- He's in two bodies at once? With two sets of memories?"

"That would explain why Syd can touch him," Ptonomy says. "And it might explain-- The connection David feels. David, how does Past David feel about you?"

"I don't know," David says. "He's avoiding thinking about me, but-- I think-- He wants to."

"He feels the pull," Divad realizes.

David puts a hand over his chest. "But when--"

"Maybe this morning?" Ptonomy offers. "Obviously with the shocks and-- Your injury-- There's been a lot of trauma. But things are calmer now. Do you feel any different?"

David closes his eyes and concentrates. "I don't know."

"Cary and Kerry's pull got stronger with time," Amy points out.

"So what does that mean?" David asks. "Is Past David me, or-- Is he another identity?"

"Both?" Divad tries. "Neither?"

"Cary and Kerry had to reunite," Ptonomy points out. "If that's what we're dealing with--"

"That's a lot of 'if's," Syd cautions. "What if-- Past David does have Farouk's soul? What if Farouk somehow-- Made a mask so real, he-- Convinced himself he's David Haller?"

There's another pause, but no one jumps in to answer that.

"The Admiral will run all these scenarios," Ptonomy says. "And more. We'll see what's likely."

"Did the Admiral see this coming?" Syd challenges.

"Actually-- Yes," Ptonomy admits. "Not all the details, but-- We knew there was a chance that Farouk would-- Return David's missing memories in-- An embodied form. It wasn't the most likely scenario, but it was a possibility."

"What was the most likely scenario?" Syd asks.

"Honestly?" Ptonomy says. "That someone would get impatient and blow us all up. And that almost happened. Farouk stopped it."

"Very generous of him," Clark says, dryly. "So what's our plan?"

"Right now?" Ptonomy says. "We take it slow, let the shocks wear off. Lenny has work to do with Past David, and while he's resting I think it would be good for the Davids to have a session with me. David, we still have a lot of work to do on your Farouk trauma. Once we have more answers, we'll figure out the next step."

"More therapy, wonderful," Clark sighs. Sometimes he longs for the days when he could just walk up to a mutant and shoot it in the head. Good times.

David turns and gives him an astonished look. Then he turns away, shaking his head.

Clark reminds himself to watch his thoughts again. He let down his guard while David had the crown and the mainframe had all of David's thoughts. All those advantages have swung back the other way. It's not just Farouk that they can't use deception against.

Now that they're going to be working together again, Clark thinks-- Maybe it's time for a peace offering.

"I'm sorry," Clark says to David. "For my thought just now. It was-- Inappropriate."

David gives him a skeptical look. So do Dvd and Divad. It's a lot of mistrust, and Clark knows he's earned it.

"No shit he's earned it," Dvd mutters.

"Clark?" Ptonomy prompts, concerned.

"Clark misses being able to shoot mutants in the head, apparently," Divad says, crisply.

Syd looks vaguely horrified, and-- Clark realizes that was a poor choice of words on top of being inappropriate.

"I know," Clark sighs, warding off a lecture.

"Do you?" David challenges. "Because you spend a lot of time regretting not killing me and it's getting old. I have enough to deal with. Do you have any idea how many people in this building want me dead? You know what? I'm glad I never signed some contract. When this is over, we're done. We get Cary back? I'll help him. But fuck you."

He gets up and storms out. Dvd and Divad glare at Clark, then go after David. And then so do Syd and Amy.

That just leaves Ptonomy. Ptonomy does not look pleased.

"He's right," Ptonomy says. "I get it. You have to look at those burns every day and remember what we did to you, what me and Kerry and Syd and Rudy did to you to save David's life. But I know what the Divisions want, and they're not gonna get it if they don't change. That includes you."

Clark bites back a retort. "We need him," he admits.

"Then be what he needs," Ptonomy says. "He won't stay if it's not reciprocal. He can go anywhere, do anything, with just a thought. You want that on your side? Be on his side. Or he'll find someone else."

"And you'll go with him?" Clark asks.

"Honestly?" Ptonomy says. "Yes. For the same reason you want him to stay."

Clark doesn't know what to say. But Ptonomy does.

"I wasn't kidding about you getting therapy," Ptonomy says. "I read your file. As soon as you could, you went right back to work. No desk duty, no therapy. You're as bad as Oliver. There's trauma specialists right here in this building, waiting to help. I suggest you talk to one before Farouk decides you're worth using."

"I was trying to avoid that," Clark says.

"That interrogation you just did?" Ptonomy says. "You got in some good hits. Don't wait for Farouk to hit back."

"Damn it," Clark sighs. "Fine. I'm going." He grabs his cane and stands up. "But I'll hate it."

"You'll hate it less than the alternative," Ptonomy reminds him. "And if you actually do the work, David will see it. Then-- Maybe he'll stay. You'll get your mutant god."

Clark makes a sarcastic sign of the cross and heads out to meet his fate.

Chapter 147: Day 13: Let's talk about telepathy. (David)

Chapter Text

David wants to go back to the lab, he wants to go home. But home is gone, Farouk made sure of that. He walks through the hallway, feeling lost, and then— He sees the glass wall of the cafeteria.

He doesn’t bother with the door. He walks through the glass and through the food river, and then— Breathes. He’s okay. He’s okay.

Dvd and Divad reach the cafeteria. Divad uses the door. And then so do Amy and Syd.

David misses Kerry suddenly, fiercely. He hates that they can’t find her, that— There might not be anything to find. And Cary, god— Maybe all they have left is his empty body.

He stares at the boats, feeling painfully lost. There's a touch to his arm. Dvd. David turns and Dvd holds him. David holds him back, wishing-- They could feel the way they did in the garden. Just for a moment, everything was safe and right. But they're not safe and nothing is right.

Robust mental health. Clark's right, he's-- This is--

"You're not doing this alone, remember?" Dvd soothes.

David lets out a shaky breath. He's not doing this alone. He thinks of the lamp, and all of them working together to fix it. Gluing it, painting it, Lenny saving it-- Everything else in that lab was broken but not the lamp.

'Nothing's gonna break us,' Dvd promises, the thought soft but fervent in his head. Soothing.

Now that they've shared their body together, David can imagine-- What it must have been like for them before. Dvd holding David inside their body, soothing his thoughts. Even if-- Their relationship was unhealthy, unbalanced-- He knows now that Dvd gave him something he needed. Still needs.

He already forgave Dvd, but-- It's like forgiving Amy. He had to forgive her a few times, but each time-- It got more pain out of the way. The peace he felt with Amy-- He wants that with Dvd, with his system. He needs it.

In response to his thoughts, he feels Dvd's steady love, mixed with relief, laced with regret and hope and-- David lets it in, lets it soothe the wounds that Farouk ripped back open. He feels so grateful for his system, for his friends, his family-- He won't let Farouk take them away.

He lets go of Dvd, feeling-- Better. Dvd looks better, too.

The cafeteria door opens again. It's Ptonomy. David struggles to collect himself, and thinks that-- If Farouk literally ripped him in half--

"David?" Ptonomy prompts.

"Yeah," David says, still struggling. It's just-- Clark's interview and-- Everything. Just everything. Maybe he doesn't feel right. He can't tell. Like he didn't know that-- He needed his system for all those years--

"David, do you need our body back?" Divad asks.

"No," David musters. "No, you should-- You need it more than me." He can't-- Hog their body all day. It wouldn't be fair.

Divad doesn't look like he believes him, but he doesn't push. Divad and Dvd look at each other, both wordlessly concerned. David wishes they weren't, but-- God, it's just-- This whole thing--

Syd walks around to the inner seating area. She takes his hand. "Come sit down, okay?"

Syd leads David to a booth and they sit down. Ptonomy takes the other side. Amy sits with Divad and Dvd along the food river, watching but giving David space.

"How are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks.

"Awful," David says.

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says. "I know you want to help, but I'm not happy that we have to use you as our relay. I know you're going to hear his thoughts anyway, but this does make it harder for you."

It does. David nods.

"I don't want you to relay all the time," Ptonomy says. "I know we had Oliver do that, but your situation is different. We needed to hear your headmates, but now they can speak for themselves. Oliver needed-- Something to keep him with us and in his body. Those aren't concerns for you." He quirks a smile. "Body sharing aside."

David quirks a small smile back. His grip on Syd's hand eases.

"We're going to keep Past David as calm as possible for now," Ptonomy continues. "We're going to try to keep things from being too much. And if you're relaying and you need to stop, you just stop. Okay?"

"Okay," David agrees. It helps to know that-- He can stop if he needs to.

"How did it feel, relaying for Past David?" Ptonomy asks.

"It was a lot," David admits. "Relaying means-- I can't-- Focus on something else, for relief." He couldn't dissociate from what he was hearing, even though that was all he wanted to do. "Did my thoughts-- Hurt Oliver?"

"Honestly, from my own experience-- I think he's still too detached to be upset by anything," Ptonomy says. "Once the swelling goes down, we'll wake him up. If he's feeling up to it-- Syd, will you be okay with swapping with him? He has a lot of injuries."

"I'll be fine," Syd says. "I'll know that-- His body's pain isn't mine."

"Have you had any issues from being in the Admiral's body?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd shakes her head. "I'll be-- Prepared for it next time. I've been other people, animals-- Being dozens of androids at once is-- Something I can deal with." She pauses. "He has-- A very strange existence."

David relates, and he might be only four different people at once. He thinks of how the book said the average DID system has over a dozen identities. He thinks about fragments, and then-- He decides to not think about fragments.

"I think it would be good to talk about what Past David said and thought," Ptonomy says. "Do you feel ready for that?"

David takes a deep breath, lets it out. "Not really. But-- I don't want to wait for--" For Farok to force him to face all of that.

"How about we all talk about it together?" Ptonomy says. He turns. "Amy, Dvd, Divad?"

Amy sits next to Ptonomy, and Divad and Dvd each pull over a chair. David notices the stack of tablets and notebooks on the table. Ptonomy must have brought them from the conference room. David finds his in the stack, then passes out everyone else's. He feels better when everyone has their notebooks.

He realizes-- They don't need mental notebooks this way. His whole system can interact with the world. Maybe-- This is part of how they need to work. For their healthy multiplicity.

'It's your body, too,' Divad thinks to him, a little chiding. 'But we'll figure it out.'

"Just as a reminder," Ptonomy says. "I can't hear your system's thoughts anymore."

"Sorry," David says. "We just-- We're trying to figure out the best way to share."

"Then let's talk about that," Ptonomy says. "The three of you made a huge leap today. You should be very proud of that."

"We are," David says, pleased. He can feel the happiness in Divad and Dvd even before he looks to them. "It was--" He still doesn't have the words. Then he turns to Syd. "Um. Did anyone tell you?"

Syd shakes her head.

"We shared," David says, and gives his headmates a happy look. "Divad talked me through it, and-- I shared our body with Dvd. And we--" He looks to Divad to explain.

"David realized why your swap with him left such an impression," Divad tells her. "It felt like he was sharing with you the way he used to share with us. So-- We tried sharing while-- David focused on the memory of-- Being inside your body. And it worked."

Syd looks at Divad, surprised, then at Dvd, and then-- Turns to David.

'I knew he was forgiving me, but--' Syd thinks. "Are you sure?" she asks him. "That's so important to your system." 'What if I screw things up? What if things don't work out? What if-- I hurt him before, what if--'

David didn't expect all that. He doesn't know what to say. He looks to Ptonomy for help, but--

"Did something just happen?" Ptonomy asks them.

When David and Syd say nothing, Divad speaks up. "Yes. Syd's--" He pauses. "Is it okay to talk about her thoughts?"

"I think we need to," Ptonomy says. "All of you have to accept that thoughts will be a big factor in your relationships. Syd, I know that's been hard for you."

"Yes," Syd says, tightly. 'I'm still afraid of him.'

David startles and Syd's hand goes through his. He pulls his hand away from her and reasserts his physicality. Syd puts her hands together on her lap.

Ptonomy gives the two of them an expectant look. Syd looks away. David can feel her shame, embarrassment.

"Syd's unhappy," Divad says. "She doesn't like having her mind read. She can't shield so she's afraid of us. And-- She thinks if she screws up with David, it'll hurt our system and we won't be able to share."

"Jesus," Syd breathes.

"Is all that true?" Ptonomy asks her.

"Yes," Syd grits out. 'It was bad enough when it was Oliver. I hate this.'

'This is not good,' Dvd thinks, unhappy.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Let's all take a breath, and we'll untangle this."

David takes a breath. "Okay."

"Okay," Syd says, quietly.

"Davids," Ptonomy starts. "You found a way around the trauma Farouk caused. That's excellent. But this does make Syd-- Central to an essential aspect of your system. I know that wasn't your intention, but it puts a lot of pressure on her. Do you agree?"

All the Davids nod. "We didn't mean to," Divad says, apologetic.

"Let's think of this as-- A transition," Ptonomy offers. "Right now, David needs Lenny to help him with his Farouk trauma. But eventually he'll be able to face the full truth directly. In the same way, as David gets more comfortable with sharing, has more experience, more confidence-- He won't need that memory of sharing with Syd."

Syd relaxes a little, and then so does everyone else. "I can accept that," Syd says.

"Great," Ptonomy says, pleased. "Davids, I want you to keep doing what you did earlier. Keep using that memory to build strong positive associations with sharing. But as sharing gets easier, make each other the foundation of those positive feelings. Syd isn't a member of your system. Rely on your system for this, not her."

"We will," Divad promises. David and Dvd both nod.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "So let's talk about telepathy and your relationships."

Syd tenses up again.

"We knew this was an issue," Ptonomy tells Syd. "We need to address it."

"I know," Syd says, tightly.

"I'd like you to tell the Davids why telepathy scares you," Ptonomy says.

Syd's hands curl into fists. She sits very straight, very still. "I can't control my thoughts," she says, outwardly calm but-- With unhappiness pouring out of her. "They're usually-- Negative and-- Hurtful. They upset me. All I want to do is ignore them. Push them down and-- Pretend I'm fine. But I'm not and-- You know." She looks at David. "You always know."

David meets her eyes. "That's why-- You told me to ignore them."

"Yes," Syd says. "That's how I survived. Refusing to-- Accept my feelings. Hiding them from everyone, even myself. I know it was-- Unhealthy. I'm-- Trying to change. But it's all-- Really new and--" She gives David a vulnerable look.

"Syd," David says, softly.

"I don't want to hurt you," Syd says. "But your powers-- Cut through all my defenses. That terrifies me, and-- My fear hurts you. My thoughts hurt you. I'm--" 'All I do is hurt you.'

"That's not true," David protests. "Syd, you've given me so much, you-- I love you. If you're hurt, I want to help."

"I don't want your help," Syd says, tightly. "I don't want anyone's help. Do you know what was in my foundation, my old one? I'm not capable of love and I don't deserve it."

David stares at her, speechless.

"But that's not in your new foundation," Ptonomy reminds Syd.

"No," Syd says, and starts to calm.

"What's your new foundation?" Ptonomy prompts.

Syd closes her eyes, breathes. "I am survival and I can't survive alone. I accept help, I give and receive love." The unhappiness eases so it's not overwhelming. Syd repeats her foundation in her thoughts, soothing herself with it.

David knew Syd was getting help. He knew she was having her own sessions, she talked about them with him a little-- But this is the first time he's seen her do-- What he does. She must have been doing it before, but he couldn't hear it. The work of-- Changing her mind. Teaching herself-- A better way to be.

And all he can feel is proud of her.

"Syd," David says, and waits for her to face him. "Thank you for telling me-- All of that. I'm so proud of you."

Syd stares at him, surprised. No, stunned.

When she doesn't reply, David continues. "I know how hard-- All this is. Getting better. But you are."

Syd gives him a very vulnerable look, and then asks, quiet and unsure: "I am?"

"You are," David says, smiling for her. "I can hear it, I can-- Feel it." He offers his hand, and she hesitates, then takes it. It feels good to hold her hand again.

"I'm still scared," Syd admits.

"It's okay," David tells her. "Being heard and-- Known-- It's a lot, believe me." He gives a wry glance to his headmates, to Ptonomy and Amy. "But I want to know all of you, not just-- The parts you think are safe."

Syd looks like she's going to cry. But David feels-- Her happiness. And then Syd-- Hugs him. David startles, surprised, and then-- Holds her back. He feels her relief, her lingering fear and worry, and-- Her love. Her joy, new and delicate.

'It doesn't hurt,' Syd thinks, as she holds him. 'He's a projection, he's safe-- Is it awful that-- I want him to stay this way?'

David thinks that he would, for her. He'd do anything for her. He loves her so much, he just-- Wants her to be happy.

Syd pulls back and David lets go. Syd struggles to collect herself.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, softly. "Syd, when you're ready-- How about you tell us how you feel?"

Syd closes her eyes again. She breathes, visibly concentrating. "Relieved," she says.

"And David, how do you feel?" Ptonomy asks.

"I guess-- I'm relieved, too," David admits. "Before, with the crown-- It's different, hearing her thoughts. Knowing how she really feels. And not-- Having to ignore that."

He can feel Syd's regret, and his instinct is to-- Take back what he said. Not make her feel bad. Hurt himself instead of her. But he can't do that anymore, not with Amy or Syd or anyone else. It's not healthy, it's not right. It's not love.

"It's better to talk about it, right?" Ptonomy says.

"Yeah," David agrees, heartfelt.

There's less certainty from Syd, but she nods. David can tell she agrees, she's just-- Wary. All this opening up is-- Still new for her. But she's doing the work.

"So Syd," Ptonomy says. "The next time you have painful thoughts or feelings-- What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to-- Not push them away," Syd says, with effort. "Let them happen and acknowledge them."

"Very good," Ptonomy says. "And how will you deal with the fact that David can hear your thoughts, sense your feelings?"

Syd tenses again, but keeps going. "I'll-- Tell him what I'm feeling. And we'll talk about it."

"David, how does that sound?" Ptonomy asks.

"A lot better," David admits.

"That's great," Ptonomy says, warmly. "Acknowledge your feelings to yourselves and to each other. Let them happen. Be there for each other. That's a lot better than the way things used to work, right?"

"Yes," Syd agrees, relieved again.

"Yes," David agrees. That's how it is with him and Amy. That's what he's doing with his system. And now he and Syd can have this. They'll give each other affection and support, and treat each other with trust, honesty, and respect. The way love should be.

He looks to Syd and she looks back, and-- He knows they'll be okay.

Chapter 148: Day 13: It's my job to keep the world safe. (Clark)

Chapter Text

If it was just Farouk, Clark wouldn't have let Ptonomy push him into therapy. Clark's been avoiding David for tactical reasons, not personal ones. He doesn't have a relationship with David to exploit, and that's just the way Clark likes it.

But it's not just Farouk. The Divisions don't want David Haller, but they need him. They need-- Their very own mutant god.

The Divisions haven't been eager to accept that. Clark hasn't either. The future is only-- Probabilities. And the old Division heads believed that elimination was the answer. Kill the mutants in their cradles, all of them. Erase them from existence, one by one, until all those unpleasant probabilities dropped to zero.

Elimination failed.

And now this situation with Farouk— It’s a mess, a bad one. Clark’s trying to keep it from becoming a global disaster. He’s always been willing to do whatever’s necessary to keep the world safe. He’s put his life on the line, had technology implanted in his body. And now he works with the mutants he dedicated his life to exterminating. If he has to— Change his mind to save the world—

He doesn’t like it. But it’s never really mattered what he likes.

He finds the new therapists in one of the other conference rooms, clustered together at one end of the table. Clark hadn't formally met with them yet, but he was going to have to anyway. He hired them, after all.

The three of them look up as he closes the door behind him. They don't recognize him, of course, but they all silently note his burned face and cane before politely looking at his good side. Sometimes Clark wishes his whole face was burned so people wouldn't be able to look away.

Sometimes.

The therapists stand up, sensing that-- He's in charge somehow.

"Thank you for your cooperation," Clark starts. "I'm aware that-- These aren't exactly the conditions you expected. My name is Clark."

He watches as their eyes widen in recognition.

"Mister DeBussey," greets one of the women, the older of the two. Miriam Albani.

"Clark," Clark insists. He sits down and so do they. "I understand you've already been apprised of the situation?"

"Yes," says the man. Marcelle Broadus. "We were briefed and-- We met with Ptonomy Wallace and Amy Haller. The technology here is-- Astonishing."

"We're very sorry to hear that Cary was hurt," says the other woman. Minnie Eder Midthunder. "If it would be possible to see him--"

"Arrangements will be made when the situation is-- Less unstable," Clark allows. He hesitates. "I need your assistance with that."

"To make the situation-- More stable?" asks Miriam.

Clark rarely has to explain his work to anyone. He's too high up to give briefings to newbies, and the people above him-- In general, they have to get through several layers of security before they even know Clark exists. These therapists were-- Among a number that Cary found and vetted, intending them to be central to development of Division 4. Amy chose these three, and Ptonomy passed the requisition to Clark. And now here they are, ahead of schedule.

"You've been informed of the existence of mutants," Clark says, mostly to see their reactions. "You were initially contacted for a secret project aimed at assisting and managing the global mutant population. You're aware that-- We have a crisis situation that's in the way of that project."

"Yes, the Vermillion-- That is, Admiral Fukuyama gave us these," Marcelle says, holding up his tablet. "It's been-- Disturbing reading."

Clark doubts that the Admiral was cleared to give them what's on that tablet. But at this point, they're all-- Past waiting for approval. "You understand that all this information is deeply classified."

"So we've been told," Miriam says, though from her expression it's obvious she'll send that information right to the press, if she has the chance. And so will Marcelle and Minnie. But Cary didn't choose people who know how to keep quiet.

"If you've caught up on the history of David Haller, you know my relationship with him," Clark says, forging on. "You also know-- The requirements of my position here. The things I've done."

"Genocide, yes," Minnie says, formality barely hiding her anger.

Clark doesn't bother to deny it. "I follow orders. I'm aware what that makes me. If you're unable to work with people who follow orders, then that's going to be a problem."

"That depends on what you expect us to do," Minnie replies.

Clark gives an acknowledging nod. "I expect you to provide therapeutic support so we can save the world. If we succeed, you'll be on the ground floor for Cary Loudermilk's project. You'll have the opportunity to change the world. I assume that interests you?"

"It does," Marcelle says. "Cary wasn't able to give us all this information, but-- He made it clear that-- People like us are essential to his vision. Now we see why."

"What you're doing with Amy and Ptonomy," Clark says, getting to the point. "I need you to do the same for me."

The three of them frown, and then almost in unison, they look at Clark's burns.

"Last year's attack," Minnie says, realizing.

"I almost died," Clark admits, and feels the resistance in himself to even admitting that much. "I have burns over forty percent of my body. The attack was carried out by-- My current co-workers. For the protection of the mutant I now have to protect. I am-- Incredibly angry at David Haller. And that would just be my problem, except he's a telepath. So it's his problem. Which makes it everyone's problem."

The therapists take that in, look to each other in silent conference.

"And what's your goal?" Miriam asks.

"To not think about how much I want him dead," Clark says, plainly.

There's a pause. "Not think about it, or-- Not want him dead?" Miriam asks.

Clark considers that. "Whatever's most effective."

"I see," Miriam says. She turns to the others. "Minnie? Think you can handle this one? If not, one of us can double up."

Minnie gives Clark a level look. Clark gives her one right back. She doesn't even flinch. Nerves of steel, this one. But people like her get killed for the kind of work she does, and she's still alive.

"I got this," Minnie says. "You two take a break."

Miriam and Marcelle step out. Minnie taps on her tablet, pulling up some text. Then she starts a new file.

"Okay," she says, meeting his eyes. "Tell me your thoughts."

"Last year, my team captured David Haller," Clark begins. "We knew he was powerful, unstable, dangerous. I interviewed him, to gain information on-- Potential known associates. We also provoked him to assess his powers. He resisted. We put him into-- A more controlled environment. Threatened his life if he didn't cooperate. He continued to resist. At that point, his value as an information source was outweighed by the danger of letting him live." The memory flashes through him, the smell of the chlorine, the sudden heat, his grip sweaty around the trigger handle. "Before I could press the button to electrocute him, other mutants attacked. With fire. I was the only survivor."

"And that's what you think about?" Minne asks. "The attack?"

"I think about pressing the button five seconds sooner," Clark says, honestly. "I think about-- How different things would be."

"And what would be different?" Minnie asks. "If you'd killed David Haller?"

"This, obviously," Clark says, gesturing at his scarred face. "Killing David Haller would also have destroyed Amahl Farouk. We wouldn't be in this situation now. A lot of people wouldn't have died. My men. My co-workers."

"Your mutant co-workers," Minnie points out. "Do you feel responsible for the damage Farouk has caused?"

"It's my job to keep the world safe," Clark says, with what he feels is remarkable calm. "Does it look safe to you?"

"Safe for who?" Minnie challenges. "You've personally killed-- There's no exact number, but-- Hundreds of mutants. Maybe thousands. Mostly children, teenagers, young adults."

"That was my job," Clark says, unmoved. "They were threats."

"Like David Haller was a threat?" Minnie asks.

"Yes."

"Did you hesitate before you killed them?" Minnie asks.

Clark doesn't want to answer that. Minnie waits, then makes a note.

"You don't see mutants as human," Minnie says. "Is that dehumanization what allows you to cope with your job as an executioner?"

Clark doesn't want to answer that either. Minnie makes another note.

"Who was it who actually burned you?" Minnie asks.

"A mutant named Rudy," Clark says. "One of my-- Previous co-workers killed him."

Minnie taps on the tablet, reads. Looks up. "Are you angry at Rudy?"

Clark considers that. "Not especially."

"Why not?" Minnie asks. "Shouldn't you be most angry at the person who actually hurt you?"

"Probably," Clark admits. "But I'm not."

"Why?"

Clark tries to find an answer.

"What about your mutant co-workers?" Minnie continues. "They were the ones who rescued David. But you've worked with them for a year without any significant issues."

"It's my job," Clark says.

"So is working with David," Minnie points out. "If your goal here is to-- Process the anger that drives your hostile thoughts, then-- Why is David the target of your anger when other, more responsible parties aren't?"

"I don't know," Clark admits, finally. "He feels-- I don't know."

"It's not just-- His connection with Farouk?" Minnie asks. "Is it Farouk you're actually angry with?"

"No," Clark admits. "I want him dead, of course. But it's not personal."

Minnie pauses. "David feels personal to you."

"Apparently," Clark says.

Minnie gives him a considering look. "I don't think your anger with David-- Is because of your injuries. Not directly. He didn't cause them."

"He did shove a pen into my face," Clark points out. "With his powers." He pauses. "When we slammed his head into a table."

Minnie does not look convinced.

"Okay," Clark sighs. "Point made."

"There's no exact number," Minnie says. "But there may have been-- A hundred million indigenous people in the Americas before Christopher Columbus. By 1769, our population had been reduced to a third of one percent of that. And still, every day, there are people just like you who want to finish the job. Cops, politicians, businessmen. I face them every day, trying to help my people survive. If I wasn't here right now, that's what I'd be doing. I'm not a mutant. Do you consider me a human being, worthy of protection?"

"Of course," Clark says.

"But a Nakoda mutant, any Native American mutant— You'd show no hesitation in killing them?" Minnie challenges.

Clark doesn't answer that.

"Why does David upset you?" Minnie asks. "What do you feel when you think about him?"

"Anger," Clark says. "That's why I'm here."

"But anger for what?" Minnie presses. "What actions are you angry about?"

Burning me to a crisp, Clark wants to say. But David didn't burn him. Then what? Being an unwitting host to Farouk? Vanishing for a year? Syd was angry with David for that. For something that wasn't David's fault. The similarity annoys him, bothers him.

He thinks of David's needing look. 'Help me I'm being tortured.' Clark was the one torturing him, then, but it was nothing. Compared to Farouk it was nothing. But it bothers him anyway.

This isn't telepathic therapy. If Clark wants Minnie to know his thoughts, he has to say them. But he's not sure what to say. He's angry at David for-- Being tortured? Being needy? Being--

"A victim," he says, almost involuntarily. "I'm angry with him for being a victim."

"Okay," Minnie says, visibly pleased. "Now we're getting somewhere. Why does his victimhood bother you?"

"I don't know," Clark admits. "Maybe-- Someone that powerful shouldn't be a victim."

"Are you afraid of how powerful he is?" Minnie asks.

"Yes," Clark says, certain.

"So it's, what? Contradictory?" Minnie asks. "You're afraid of how powerful he is. And you're afraid of how weak he is."

"Absolutely," Clark says, confident. "Even if all this gets resolved-- No one that weak should have that much power. He could end the world."

"So you think he can't be responsible with all that power?"

"I don't think he's capable of being responsible with any power," Clark says.

"And that makes you angry?"

Clark wants to say yes, but-- "No."

"Do his powers make you angry?" Minnie presses.

Clark hesitates. "Scared, but-- not angry."

"So this is just about his weakness?" Minnie asks. "It's just that he's a victim?"

Clark wants to say no, but-- "Yes."

"Okay," Minnie says, and takes a thoughtful pause. "Let's go back to when you met David." She taps on the tablet, reads. "I have your report here. You captured David, drugged him."

"Yes," Clark says, easing. "He destroyed his mental hospital, killed a patient. Or appeared to. We know now that-- None of that was actually him."

Minnie reads on. "Because-- The damage was actually caused by-- Two other mutants. Sydney Barrett and Amahl Farouk. Using his body."

Clark nods. "He didn't know that, of course. He was-- Unaware of his powers. Farouk--" He gestures at his head. "Took his memories."

Minnie blinks, clearly astonished at what they're discussing, though she's taking it in stride. "What was your first impression of him?"

Clark thinks back. "That he was lying."

"About?"

"Everything," Clark says. "I thought maybe-- It was an act. He felt-- Off, somehow."

"And did your impression of him change during the interrogation?"

"I'm-- Not sure," Clark admits. It was a strange interrogation. "He seemed-- Genuinely naive, confused, but-- His powers were off the charts. No mutant with that kind of power--" He gives a tight smile. "But of course it was Farouk."

"He made David forget," Minnie says. "He kept him-- Unaware of his own strength."

"Yes."

"He kept David-- A perpetual victim," Minnie says. "Unable to learn from his experiences."

"Yes."

"So what have you learned from your experiences?" Minnie asks. “You don’t have amnesia. No one’s making you forget. If you think about all the things you’ve done, how does that make you feel?”

“Fine,” Clark lies.

Minnie doesn’t look like she believes him.

“I did my job,” Clark insists.

“And there’s nothing you regret?” Minnie challenges. “Nothing you’d do differently, knowing what you know now?”

“I would have pressed the trigger five seconds sooner,” Clark says, evenly.

“To kill Farouk?”

“To kill David,” Clark says, anger creeping into his voice. He doesn’t like that anger. He does his job and he doesn’t feel anything, that’s how he works.

“Even though he’s innocent?” Minnie challenges.

"It doesn’t matter," Clark insists. "He’s a mutant. Do you know what will happen if we don’t stop them? Humanity’s done, it’s over. We won’t survive.”

“Then why are you working with mutants now?” Minnie asks. “Why help them?”

“Because it’s my job,” Clark says, tersely.

“So your job changed,” Minnie says. “And if you’d killed David, your job wouldn’t have changed.”

“Yes,” Clark says.

“Are you angry at your job?”

“Yes,” Clark admits.

Minnie gives him a considering look. “Are you angry about what it is now, or what it used to be?”

Clark can’t answer that.

“Okay,” Minnie says, calmly. “It’s clear that— This job is very important to you. It’s central to your existence, your identity. And to live with it, you dehumanized your victims. But David changed that. You do recognize his humanity. And because of him, you have to care for the people you used to slaughter. It's now your job to care for them. That’s why you’re angry.”

Clark says nothing. He wants to deny it but he can’t so he says nothing.

“I believe you do have PTSD from the attack," Minnie says. "I think you need treatment for that. But that's not why you're here. You're here because your anger interferes with your ability to do your job. But your job is what's making you angry, not David."

"So what?" Clark challenges. "I should quit?"

"You could," Minnie says. "But quitting won't do anything for the mutants you killed. It won't take away the guilt you're obviously feeling, or the anger you have at yourself. It's my understanding that-- Cary wants you to be part of Division 4. Helping mutants."

"He does," Clark agrees.

"Do you want that?" Minnie asks. "Do you want a job that will force you to accept the humanity of the people you've killed?"

"I want to keep the world safe," Clark says.

"And Division 4 will do that?"

"That's what the models say. The odds."

"The odds?"

"Part of our job here is to-- Predict the future," Clark explains. "The best we can do is probabilities. Then we make decisions to deal with those probabilities. The odds were high that David Haller would end the world. We could have killed him or helped him. We failed at the first one, so now we're trying the second."

"And are the odds better now?" Minnie asks. "For the world?"

"Yes," Clark admits. "As a-- Proof of concept, this has been-- Persuasive. If a threat can't be eliminated, it has to be managed. Less hostility also means-- Cooperation. De-escalation."

"Most cops don't like de-escalation," Minnie says. "It takes away their excuse for hurting people."

"I'm not a cop," Clark tells her.

"That's exactly what you are," Minnie says. "Tell me the truth. Did you like killing mutants?"

Clark hesitates. "I thought I did."

"What did you like about it?" Minnie asks. "Did you enjoy their suffering?"

"Not really," Clark admits. "My job was to eliminate threats. I eliminated them and I was good at it." He pauses. "I worked with a mutant. Walter. He enjoyed suffering. Liked to draw it out. I didn't."

"How did you feel about him?"

"He disgusted me," Clark admits. "But I assumed it was because-- Of what he was."

"Why was he working with the Divisions in the first place?" Minnie asks.

"He was-- Our slave," Clark admits. He doesn't want to sugar-coat it. Lenny was right. "As is the Admiral. And other mutants we captured and forced to assist us. When we first found David, I thought maybe-- We could use him."

Minnie takes that in. "Does David know that?"

"If he's listening, he does now," Clark admits. "But I'm sure he-- Heard me think it before, at some point or another. That's the thing about mind readers. The powerful ones. No secrets."

"I see," Minnie says, and-- Clark can already see the wheels turning in her head. All the ways a mind reader could help her people.

That's the thing about mutants. They could be born anywhere. Nuclear weapons scattered at random across the whole world, nuclear weapons with feelings and families and faiths. Even in the best case scenario, mutants will destabilize the entire world order.

But for someone like Minnie, that world order isn't worth preserving. It isn't for Cary, either, or a lot of people. Maybe most people. But that's the order that Clark's been defending. That's the order he's killed for. And he's been rewarded for his actions.

He remembers-- David angrily thinking that-- Adopting one kid didn't undo murdering however many mutants Clark's murdered, no matter how politely he murdered them.

Fuck your apology.

"You're right," Clark decides. "Quitting won't-- Undo what I've done. And I don't want to quit. I value what I do here, whatever I'm asked to do."

"Then what exactly is it that you value?" Minnie asks, curious.

Clark has to think about that.

Minnie waits, and then asks, "Understanding all of this, how do you feel about David now?"

"Less angry," Clark admits.

"Do you still wish you'd killed him?"

"Not as much," Clark decides. "The reality is that-- Even without David and Farouk, something like this-- Would have happened eventually. We tried to stop it, but-- Humanity is-- Incidental to this planet's future."

"Maybe your problem is how you define humanity," Minnie says.

"The world is made of systems," Clark replies. "Any system can break, and when it does-- People die."

"People have already died," Minnie says, unflinching. "People are dying now. You want to stop the end of the world? The world of my people already ended. We're trying to build a new one, but this world works very hard to stop us. Maybe this world needs to end for us to make something better."

"Is that why you agreed to work with Cary?" Clark asks, curious.

"One of the reasons, yes," Minnie says. "There are already mutant Nakoda. I want to help them. And I want to have the power to make that better world. I don't know how your Divisions kept all this a secret, but that won't last."

"We know," Clark accepts. "We're still working out how to deal with that."

Minnie gives him an evaluating look. "Despite what you've done, I can see that you're not without a conscience. Or compassion. That's the part of you that hurts when you face what you've done. If you accept that pain, you won't need to put it somewhere else."

"Okay," Clark says. "I'll give it a try." He pauses. "Will you be available for a follow up?"

"You're not the kind of person I came here to help," Minnie admits. "But yes, I will help you. Understand that-- With therapy, you have to do most of the work yourself."

"Oh, I'm very aware," Clark sighs.

"Are you married?" Minnie asks.

"Yes," Clark says. "I have a husband."

"Can you talk to him about your work?"

"Yes."

"Then talk to him," Minnie advises. "What you're trying to do-- You can't do it alone."

"That might be an issue," Clark admits. "He's also dedicated his life to killing mutants for the protection of humanity."

"Then maybe you can help each other," Minnie says. "That usually makes it easier."

"That's good advice," Clark says, wryly. "I'll see what I can do."

Chapter 149: Day 13: They'd talk to me. (David)

Chapter Text

David takes a steadying breath, then removes the Farouk trauma pages from the back of his notebook. He sets them down on the table, and then— Looks down at the page. Takes his pen. Underneath took me away from my system he writes, tortured me in my dreams and made me love him.

Despite not having an actual stomach, he still feels queasy. He shows Ptonomy what he added, then takes back the paper.

"Okay, that's a good start," Ptonomy says. "Which do you want to talk about first?"

"None of it," David admits. Took me away from my system, he reads. He doesn't remember that, either. Made me forget and sculpted me, he reads. "I think I need to-- Un-cross this out."

"Go ahead," Ptonomy says.

David writes it again, at the end. "This is getting messy," he jokes.

"That's okay," Ptonomy says.

David reads the list again. "I think-- I need to start a new page." He's never done that with his trauma work, but--

There's a few blank sheets after the first one. David starts over, and realizes-- The 'me' should be 'us', in some of them. He changes it as he writes, adding one more thing, then lets everyone see it.

Lived inside us and fed on us.
Took me away from my system.
Made me forget and sculpted me.
Made me schizophrenic.
Took us over and made us hurt people.
Tortured us in our dreams.
Used the people we love against us.
Made me love him.

He looks at Amy and Syd, at Dvd and Divad. Farouk used all of them against him, in his dreams.

"It was me," he says, needing to say it again. "The person Past David is now-- Was me. Those are my memories. The old ones and-- The new ones."

"Yes," Ptonomy agrees.

"But he's the one who remembers," David continues. "And he doesn't even know-- He has no idea what Farouk did to us. None. He thinks Amahl saved him, he thinks--" He can't make himself say it. "It's been hard enough dealing with what I do remember."

"Today's been a hell of a lot for all of us," Ptonomy says. "We're not talking about this to push you forward. But we can't let it sit either."

"No," David accepts.

"Let's look at your therapy goals," Ptonomy says. "How do you feel about those?"

David reads them. It feels like-- Farouk undermined so much.

"Farouk found a way around-- What we're doing," he realizes. "Past David-- Can't protect himself. He doesn't even think he can. He feels-- Incapable of making choices, much less-- Separating himself from Amahl. And Farouk made us forget so-- I couldn't remember who he is. I couldn't remember all the things that-- Helped me, made me stronger."

"Yes," Ptonomy says. "We didn't realize how powerful his access to your dreams would be. That puts us in a difficult position for tonight."

David's eyes widen.

"Divad, would it be possible for all of you to sleep outside your body tonight?" Ptonomy asks. "As mental projections?"

"We could," Divad says. "Our sleep won't be as restful, and-- There are long-term effects."

"Should have done that from the start," Dvd mutters, unhappy.

"Maybe," Ptonomy says. "But David and your system's body badly needed to heal. Now that your system is recovering, we can afford to temporarily give up REM."

"What we need to do is kill the shit beetle," Dvd insists.

"Can you find him?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," David admits. "He's shielding himself."

"He could be anywhere," Dvd declares. "He could be right here in this room, watching us and jerking himself off."

"There's an image," Divad mutters.

David looks around, wary.

"We know he's watching us," Ptonomy says. "That's all he's done since he got his body back. Frankly that's what he's done for thirty-one years."

"So we stop him already," Dvd says, annoyed. "I'm sick of waiting for him to fuck us over. We take the fight to him."

"How?" Divad asks. "We can't find him."

"Oh, he'll show his smug face again," Dvd says, certain. "He has to show up and gloat before he fucks us over again. That's when we turn him to dust."

"What about Melanie?" Amy asks.

"She's his hostage, just like Oliver and Lenny were," Ptonomy says. "We need a way to pull her free."

"David, you can do what Oliver can, right?" Amy says. "Pull a soul from its body? Maybe-- You can pull Melanie's soul out of Farouk?"

"We'd have to get past Farouk's defenses," Divad says. "We'd have to-- Get Farouk to give her up, or-- Find a way for us to get in."

"He has to dream, too," Dvd says.

"Does he?" Ptonomy asks. "As far as we can tell, he was awake all day, watching us. And then at night, he was in David's dreams. And he went through a hell of a lot of coffee."

"Café serré," Syd says. "But it's been weeks. Why isn't he affected?"

"We don't know enough about Farouk," Ptonomy admits. "We know-- He's centuries old and-- His body can't be hurt. Is that his mutation? Or did he change his body using his powers?"

"Maybe-- He can do what I do," Divad offers. "There are people without powers who can manipulate their autonomic nervous system. Even if he doesn't have that power directly-- He could have used his other powers."

David suddenly remembers-- The vision the monk gave him. Farouk's body relentlessly pounding on its coffin, driving the monks to madness. But there was no mind, no soul inside that body to animate it.

"Was there?" Divad asks. "Oh, sorry. David thought--" He gestures for David to say it.

"The monk showed me a vision," David explains. "I saw Farouk's body at the monastery, but-- It was somehow-- Animated."

"But the soul is the animating force," Syd says. "So what was in Farouk's body?"

"Maybe he was," Divad says. "He fought our father on the astral plane, right? So he had to leave his body. But maybe-- He left a part behind."

"Like Cary and Kerry," Ptonomy says. "And possibly what he did to create Past David. He stretched his own soul."

"So there was still a piece left," Divad says. "And that's what-- Preserved it. Gave it-- Some fragment of consciousness."

"So what does that mean?" Dvd asks. "If we destroy his soul, that kills his body?"

"We'd have to destroy all of his soul," Divad says. "Not just his astral projection. The Farouk we knew, the monster-- Wasn't even whole to begin with."

"That might also explain-- Some of his behavior after he became trapped inside you," Ptonomy says. "He would have been desperate to get back to his own body, to the other part of his soul. And then-- He couldn't."

It's a bracing thought for all of them.

"So-- We don't just have to get Melanie's soul out of Farouk," Divad says, thinking. "We also need to get all of Farouk's soul out of his body. We need to separate them completely, and then-- Destroy his entire soul."

"And that will kill the body," Ptonomy says. "If we're right."

"And he knows we know that," Syd points out. "He'll never give us the chance."

"Then we have to do to him what he does to us," Ptonomy says. "We have to make it so he has to completely leave his body, so he has to make that one choice. There has to be something he wants too much to refuse it, and there has to be only one way to get it."

"The only thing he wants is me," David says, unhappily.

"We are not letting that monster touch David," Dvd declares.

"We're not," Ptonomy agrees. "And we do have some protection. Any ideas that stay inside the Davids' system or the mainframe are safe from Farouk. Let's use that advantage as long as we can. Sorry, Syd."

"It's okay," Syd says. "We did this before, with Amy and Lenny. If you need me to do something, I'll do it. And I'll try not to figure out why."

She gives David a little smile, and he eases. He offers his hand and she takes it, holds it, and David remembers--

"I'm sorry about the note," he tells Syd. "Maybe if we'd-- Made you part of the plan-- We should have brought you with us."

He can feel Syd's surprise. It's more than she lets show, but she does show it. There's hurt and regret but-- Not the fear and anger he felt from her before, every time she got mad at him for leaving. When they talked about it, she barely let her feelings show, but David still felt them so strongly. He finds himself-- Seeking for them, weirdly missing them, and presses in to find them.

They're still there. Weak now, much quieter. Because-- She's forgiving him. She's letting go of her pain instead of holding it close.

"David?" Syd prompts.

"Sorry," David says, coming back to himself. "I was, uh-- Feeling you."

"Oh," Syd says, and David feels her embarrassment, discomfort.

"I'm sorry," David says again, feeling on the verge of an apology loop. "I just-- Now that it's back-- My powers-- And I'm not-- Confused--" He hesitates. "It's not just thoughts, like the relay, it's-- Deeper. Even with Divad and Dvd. I feel-- So much more from everyone."

He looks at Ptonomy and Amy. "It's really weird, not feeling all of you."

"What do you feel?" Ptonomy asks.

"It's like-- You're not really here," David decides.

"We're not," Amy admits. "We're in the Admiral."

"How does he feel?" Ptonomy asks. "If you try to feel his soul, what's that like?"

David tries. "It's different. I can feel his-- Presence, but-- There's something in the way." The mainframe.

"Is it different from how Farouk feels, or the same?" Ptonomy asks.

"Different," David decides. He tries to find Farouk again, reaches out, spreading his awareness, searching. When he was working with Farouk, he would do this and then-- Farouk would invite David in. Not into his mind, but-- To a shared space on the astral plane. A white room. Of course Farouk knows how to make them, he taught David--

No. He gave the knowledge back after taking it away. Because David already knew how to make white rooms. He made one for his headmates to keep them safe.

Farouk might have even-- Learned how to make white rooms from David in the first place. And then he was so pleased with himself, teaching it back, so arrogant and smug, and David was so grateful. The memory is sour now, rancid. He pushes it away.

"Maybe if I could find his body," David says. This really is Oliver all over again. "But without that--"

"It's okay," Ptonomy soothes. "Let him hide. Dvd's right, he'll show himself eventually. And when he does, we'll be ready for him."

"We'd better be," Dvd says.

"Let's get back to the work," Ptonomy says. "Do you need to change any of your therapy goals? Add anything?"

David considers the list. "'Find ways to be in control of touch when sharing,'" he reads. "That wasn't what worked. Should I take that out?"

"Let's talk about the sharing," Ptonomy says. "Your system has shared in a lot of ways. What you did this morning was-- A return to an old way of sharing. I think on the whole-- That method is something that works for your system."

Dvd looks very pleased at that.

"But this method of sharing is also-- A crisis response," Ptonomy continues. "When you've been hurt, Dvd holds you, soothes you. You had to do that a lot because of Farouk. But it's also-- One where you have to be passive. And I don't think you'll be happy being passive all the time, especially once Farouk is gone. Right?"

"Right," David says, considering that. "But when we tried to share before, with the lamp-- All I could think of was Farouk."

"That's why it's not enough just to have one positive association with sharing," Ptonomy says. "We need to come at this from as many angles as we can. This is a big part of your system's foundation."

'Our foundation,' Divad thinks. "We need to finish our foundation."

"That's a good idea," Ptonomy says. "Your system has made an enormous amount of progress. I think all of you are ready to work together on that. We'll do that next. Okay?"

All the Davids nod.

"So David, for your Farouk goals," Ptonomy continues, turning back to him. "How about we replace that one with something like-- Learn healthy ways of sharing? So that means learning both passive and active sharing, and different ways of cooperating together. Let yourself get comfortable, and then experiment, see what the three of you can do. Relying on only one kind of sharing hurt your system before. You don't want to repeat that mistake."

David looks to his headmates and sees they agree. He thinks about what feels right, then copies over the list, removing the control line and adding to the end: 'Practice different kinds of sharing.'

"I like that," Divad says, pleased. Dvd's happy, too, and David feels their happiness, how it lifts him up.

David wonders-- "I wanted to ask Oliver something. About telepathy. But he's--"

"Go on," Ptonomy says.

"It's hard to explain," David starts. "I guess it's like-- Everyone's connected? And emotions, feelings-- They're like-- Waves. Now that I'm-- Not the one making all the waves, it's-- A lot to deal with."

"Dvd, Divad?" Ptonomy prompts. "Do you two have any experience with this? Or did David talk about it before?"

"We don't have external telepathy," Divad says. "We heard what David did, but-- We didn’t experience it directly."

"He hated it," Dvd says. "He was already miserable, and feeling-- Everyone else being sad or-- Frustrated. It made him worse."

"But sometimes things were good," Amy says. "I think-- Other people's calm made you calm. Our happiness helped you feel happy. Whenever Dad took you to watch the stars--"

"I remember," David says, and feels the familiar pull of those memories. He closes his eyes and tries to put Dad's face back, like he did before. "They'd talk to me."

He hesitates, out of-- Some reflex of-- Fear.

"David?" Syd prompts, worried.

"Sorry," David says, trying to shake off the feeling. "Um."

"David?" Ptonomy prompts. "Do you remember-- One of our memory walks. Doctor Poole's office. You said something, and-- That's why Farouk made you break in to destroy the tapes. Something about the stars."

David thinks back, concentrates. The memory walks always left him-- Disoriented, hazy. Things kept going wrong, he would-- Forget and-- Ptonomy and Melanie would be upset with him for forgetting. Farouk really messed him up.

"Sorry, all that's-- Kinda patchy," David admits.

"We remember," Dvd says. "What do you want to know?"

"What did the stars say?" Ptonomy asks. "What did Farouk go through all that trouble to hide?"

"They were-- Minds," Dvd says, remembering. "When everyone was asleep, quiet-- We could hear minds from far away."

"When we were really young, we did think it was the stars talking to us," Divad admits. "But then we realized-- It was people." He frowns. "No it was--" He stops, confused. "Do you remember?" he asks Dvd.

Dvd frowns, too. He rubs his head, distressed. 'Farouk made us forget.'

"He made all of us forget," David realizes. "But I told Doctor Poole-- What the stars said--"

"We don’t know what you told him,” Ptonomy says. “But Farouk was always changing your memories. We know he kept making you forget about your adoption. We know he used that against you in your dreams. He used your need for-- Family, belonging, as a weapon. So what did you hear that he had to take away?"

"Mutants," David realizes. Past David thinks about mutants a lot, about-- Not being one, about-- Melanie being one, weirdly. He's afraid to talk about them because-- Their system grew up terrified of talking about mutants. And they never met one, even though they must have heard-- "The stars were mutants. Mutant minds, maybe-- Other telepaths. I heard them and-- I knew I wasn't alone. We weren't alone."

"No wonder they made us happy," Divad says, full of relief with an undercurrent of-- Horror. "God, what if-- Did we hear them every night?"

"I don't care if we need REM, that monster is never touching us again," Dvd declares.

"Wasn't Oliver searching for mutants back then?" Amy asks. "Maybe you heard him."

"Maybe we heard our father," David realizes. "Our actual father. When he was still-- On Earth--"

It's a painful thought. They were always-- So close to the help they needed. But Farouk kept it just out of reach.

And that's the thing about mutants like him. Powerful mind readers. Like with Farouk, all David had to do to find others like himself was-- Listen. Feel their minds. Reach out.

But Farouk wouldn't let him. Like the fear that holds back Past David. The shapeless, overwhelming fear that Farouk used so much, so when David tried to ask for help-- The fear would choke him back like a cord across his throat. He sees it in Past David. He knows it in himself. He felt it just now, a tiny landmine Farouk left behind.

But David is done being a battlefield. He's done letting Farouk change him and mess him up and build sunrises out of him. He is done.

"Farouk didn't want us to get help," David says. "So let's get help."

"What kind of help?" Ptonomy asks.

"All of it," David says, impatient. "There's so many mutants out there. They can help us." He can feel them. Don’t they feel him?

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says. "It's just not an option right now."

"Of course it's an option," David says. "Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to reach out and find every powerful mutant in the world and just-- Bring them here?"

"Very?" Ptonomy guesses, a little wide-eyed.

"We could have an army," David says, trying to make him understand.

"Sounds good to me," Dvd says, pleased. "Farouk wouldn't stand a chance."

"We considered it," Ptonomy says. "There's a reason we're keeping this small. If we bring in more people, more mutants, that's more variables, more risks. Every relationship you have is a potential weapon."

Dvd looks less pleased. "Okay, maybe he's got a point."

"You're taking his side?" David asks, astonished.

"Hey, the only side I'm ever on is ours," Dvd declares. 'Unbelievable.'

"It's a good idea," Divad offers to David. "We should find more mutants. We can all help each other. But if we pull them into this now, we'll get them killed."

That gives David pause. But he can't let it go. "Farouk took this away from us," he insists. "He took it from me. I could have found us help, but he just--" He gestures wordlessly at himself. Farouk just took it. He did what he wanted, like he always does, and then savored how much that hurt them. How much it hurt David.

Made me forget and sculpted me.

David rubs at his face, feeling ripped open and raw. "You're talking about-- Keeping things under control. How is any of this under control? Half my soul and most of my memories are strapped to a bed in the infirmary!"

"We don't know that," Ptonomy cautions.

"Well I do!" David insists. "I know, okay? And Farouk's gonna make another move and then what? If there's something he doesn't want us to do, then we should do it. So we tell people what he is. We bring everyone together against him and we stop him."

"You're picturing, what, a big showdown?" Ptonomy asks, anger pushing away his usual calming tone. "Everyone punches him? He's indestructible. The only thing that controls him is his obsession with you."

David glares at him, stubborn. He drops his physicality and stands up, walks away.

"David, sit back down," Ptonomy says, half-asking, half-ordering. And David--

David just can't. He can't take any more of this. He needs to be anywhere but here. And in a blink--

He's standing on the dock by the lake. Summerland.

He's not safe here because he's not safe anywhere in the whole world. He knows that. He'll have to go back to Division 3. But not yet. Not yet, he thinks, knowing Divad and Dvd will hear it. He just-- Needs this.

No one comes after him. He sits and wraps his arms around his knees and puts his head down and breathes, breathes. Listens to the birdsong and the breeze, to the burble of minds inside his head and from every direction at once. He suddenly, intensely misses the crown, even though it hurt and it took so much away from him, he's still figuring out how much it took away because he's still getting it back. But what he has back is already so much.

He didn't grow up with powers. He doesn't remember growing up with powers. Past David does, but he doesn't want them. Farouk made him think his powers are the monster's. He made David think his powers were schizophrenia. All these layers and layers of lies and confusion--

Far away, he hears Syd worrying about him, debating what to do. He can hear Dvd and Divad, just fragmented thoughts between whatever they're saying aloud, but he can't hear Amy or Ptonomy. He can't feel them or Lenny. It's like they don't exist. It's like they're not real.

He can't find Farouk. He doesn't want to find him. He doesn't want to give Farouk the chance to crawl back into his head and change him again. Even if it's just with words, suggestions, ideas. Dvd couldn't shield David from those before, and David can't stomach the thought of Divad making him forget ever again. Even though there's still so much he desperately wants to forget.

Despite what Clark said, what Farouk kept saying, David doesn't feel like a god. He feels like an open wound. Farouk sliced him in half and David didn't even feel it, and he's been walking around all day like he’s fine but he's bleeding out.

He misses Kerry. He misses her so much. He misses Cary so much. He's furious that he let Farouk hurt them the same way Farouk hurt Amy. He's furious that he was just lying there asleep and useless when Farouk took them. All these powers and he's so fucking useless.

He feels Syd's arrival even before he hears her. Worry's pouring off her and he rocks like a rowboat in her wake. She hesitates, then kneels down beside him and pulls him against her. It's just like how Lenny held him after--

David sobs and clings to her.

"Shh, it's okay," Syd soothes, just like Lenny did. Because this is what Farouk does, he replays his favorites. He breaks David's heart and lets other people heal it so he can break it again. "It's okay."

"No," David sobs. But he feels Syd's love and he can't not be calmed by it. He feels less like a person and more like-- A collection of inputs and outputs. Suffering and healing on demand. He's so tired of being a battlefield, of things being done to him and he can't stop it. Even when he knows, he still can't stop it.

Farouk made David love him. There's a part of David that loves him right now, that misses him and wants him back, that wants to surrender everything he is to Amahl because he believes Amahl will take the pain away. And David hates how much he wants that, too, even though he knows Amahl will never take the pain away because he's the one causing it in the first place. But David needs it to stop so badly--

We have to do to him what he does to us, Ptonomy said. There has to be something he wants too much to refuse it, and there has to be only one way to get it.

And Farouk knows what David wants. He knows. So David knows that when the moment comes, he won't be able to say no.

"Dvd's gonna bring us back, okay?" Syd says, when David finally calms, exhausted and numb.

David gives a shallow nod, and then-- The warm, rough wood beneath him becomes cool, smooth linoleum.

There's footsteps, and Ptonomy kneels down. "Divad told me your thoughts," he says, voice soft again. "I'm sorry. I know you just want to be safe."

'Then kill me,' David thinks at Divad, bleakly. 'Because death is the only way I'll ever be safe.'

Divad gives him a wounded look.

'I'm sorry,' David thinks, ashamed, and turns away.

"What was that?" Ptonomy asks.

"You don't want to know," Divad says.

"Then I need to," Ptonomy says.

Divad sighs. "He just-- Doesn't have any hope right now."

"He was doing so well," Amy says, worried.

"Farouk hit us hard," Ptonomy says. "He hit David hardest, it just-- Took a while for him to feel it."

"Now what?" Dvd asks, unhappy.

"Take him upstairs," Ptonomy says. "Get him back in your body, share with him if it helps. Whatever will help, do it. Let him rest, but if he sleeps, keep him out of REM."

"And the relay?" Divad asks.

"We'll do without it," Ptonomy decides. "Syd, do you mind if they use your room again?"

"It's fine," Syd says, and David feels her voice against his cheek. "It's their room, too."

There's a soft feeling of-- Caring, between Syd and Divad and Dvd. It's not enough to pull David out of his bleak exhaustion, but it helps. Farouk hasn't taken everything away, not yet. David tightens his hold on Syd, desperate not to lose her again.

Chapter 150: Day 13: Ornamental pond fish, three letters. (Past David)

Notes:

TW: Suicidal thoughts

Chapter Text

David would be fine staying in the restraints, but Lenny doesn't like it. When he protests that he's used to this kind of thing, it only makes her mad. She starts talking about things David's never heard about, things that are part of her job. Least restrictive restraints, she tells him, and shows him a bunch of stuff about it on her tablet, about range of motion exercises and circulation and how he has to take care of his body and-- Honestly David finds the whole thing bewildering and decides to just-- Let her yell at him until she feels better.

When Lenny finishes yelling at him, she makes him get up and walk around and stretch his muscles. She keeps a close eye on him but she won't let him back onto the bed until he does all the things she says will keep him healthy. Not that David wants to be tied down, he just--

He doesn't know what to make of anything that's happening, so the easiest thing to do is just-- Let them happen. Do what people tell him. If Lenny wants him to stretch his muscles and massage his wrists--

His unmarked wrists--

He stops and stares at them again. His wrists make the least sense out of everything.

Eventually he realizes Lenny is talking to him again, that she's guiding him back to the bed. David sits down. Lenny gives him water and he drinks it. Lenny takes back the paper cup, then hesitates before putting the wrist restraints back on. She leaves the leg restraints off.

"Um, shouldn't you--" David starts.

"You gonna kick yourself to death?" Lenny asks.

"Probably not," David admits.

"Then you don't need them," Lenny says. "If you're not gonna hurt yourself without ‘em, you don't need ‘em."

David finds that hard to believe. Even before Amahl found him he was restrained all the time, in hospitals, holding cells, in his own body-- And no one was ever in a hurry to free him.

He could have freed himself, at least from the hospitals and holding cells. Sometimes he did, but that only made things worse. Especially with the cops, they really hated that. And now it doesn't matter because he's not a mutant and he doesn't have any powers. He's just-- A sick, powerless human. As close to normal as he'll ever get. Somehow that didn't feel like a problem when he was with Amahl. But now that he's alone--

He swallows, thinking of the bathroom mirror, of the scalpel. If he'd just-- If he hadn't hesitated--

A wave of sadness comes over him, and he turns away from Lenny as a few tears escape. Lenny sees them anyway and blots them away with a tissue. David kind of hates that she's being so kind.

"You should find someone else to help, if you wanna help so much," David mutters.

That just amuses Lenny. "You're stuck with me," she tells him, and settles back in her chair. She picks up the tablet again. "If you're up to being cranky, then we've got work to do. First we gotta talk about patient's rights. There’s so many people I could sue right now."

David raises his eyebrows at her, but Lenny's focused on her tablet. She taps, scrolls through some text, then looks up with a gleam in her eyes.

"Okay," she starts. "Remember Clark talked about consent?"

"Uh, yeah," David says.

"Communication's an important part of your rights," Lenny says. "That means knowing the truth about your condition and your care so you can decide what's best for yourself. That's so you can give informed consent."

She gives David an expectant look, and he gives her one back.

"Gotta keep this simple," Lenny mutters. "Okay, so-- When a doctor does a test, it's for a reason, right? They're trying to figure out what's wrong so they can help you."

Lenny pauses, waiting for him to respond. David nods.

"Amahl did a lot of tests," Lenny continues. "So you could be his key, right?"

"Right," David agrees.

"But you don't know what being his key actually meant?"

"No, he said-- If I knew too much, it would ruin things," David explains.

"Maybe that's true," Lenny says, though David can tell she doesn't like it. "But even if he didn't tell you, every test had to have a reason, right?"

That makes sense. "Sure," David says.

"Clark and Ptonomy need us to help them reconstruct what happened," Lenny says. "And it sounds like those tests were a big part of that. So how about we make a list of all the tests, and then we can figure out what they were for."

"But what if Amahl comes back?" David asks, uncertain. "What if I can still be his key?" His Joonam. David's heart hurts with want to just be his Joonam.

"That lab was pretty wrecked," Lenny points out. "If all those tests were important, then all that data's gone. Even if he shows up, he's gonna have to start over."

"Poor Amahl," David sighs, upset for him.

"Yeah, really sucks to be him," Lenny says, tartly. Then she gives David a considering look. "You wouldn't mind? All that poking and prodding, all over again?"

"He needed me," David explains. "He said-- We'd really help people. I'm just-- Nothing but-- With him, I could matter." He could belong.

Lenny takes a moment to reply. "You're not nothing to me."

"I'm your patient," David says. "It's your job to care about me."

"I know plenty of doctors who don't think it's their job to care about their patients," Lenny says, and David can tell she means it. "You were Amahl's patient. Was that the only reason he cared about you?"

David wants to say that he's still Amahl's patient. But Amahl's not here. "Maybe at the start," he admits. "But then--" The memories soothe him: Amahl's warmth, his stories, his comforting touch. "Amahl, um-- He said he lost his son, a long time ago. And I reminded him--" He swallows. "He tried to be-- To keep his distance, but-- I needed him and-- He needed me."

He needs Amahl and Amahl needs him. David should be helping them find Amahl, saving him from whatever happened, but-- David has no idea how he could even begin to do that. He'd only screw it up anyway. And then it would be his fault that Amahl's gone. He doesn't think he could live with that. He barely wants to live at all, without Amahl, but if it was his fault--

"You like to be needed, huh?" Lenny asks, softer.

"Who doesn't?" David says, wryly. He looks down at his cuffed wrists. "My life's been, um-- Basically a disaster. I've-- Hurt people. I didn't want to, but I--" His breath catches. "That's just what I am, I guess." His voice trembles and he blinks at the tears in his eyes. Maybe it's already his fault that Amahl's gone, that Melanie's gone, that Syd hasn't come back. Why would they want him? Of course they wouldn't want him, he was just-- Useful and now-- He's not.

He's not.

"You don't have to do this," David tells Lenny, almost but not quite looking at her. "There are other people who-- I don't deserve to be-- All this trouble--"

"Hey," Lenny says, firm and not quite angry. "I do what I want, and I want to be here. So let's make that list, okay?"

"Okay," David says. There's nothing else he can say.

He does his best to describe the tests, how often Amahl did them. If he has any idea about the results, which he usually didn't, he tells Lenny that. Lenny just listens and writes everything down. It's bittersweet, thinking about all that, knowing-- It's over. Can it really all be over? Months and months of work just-- Over? All for nothing.

Did yesterday even happen? Maybe he did dream that. It didn't feel real, Syd and-- She's not acting like they had sex. Not that it was sex, it was-- It was a treatment. Maybe it really didn't mean anything to her. Maybe with Amahl gone--

"Lenny, do you think-- Is Syd coming back?" David asks. He's tried not to ask about her, it's not as though-- He's ever been able to ask her for anything. She gave him what he needed, just like Amahl did, and David took what he was given. He wasn't supposed to understand or choose or make any kind of decision.

Was that what he did wrong? Did he somehow-- Make a wrong choice? He can't remember, but--

"Syd's just busy right now," Lenny says. "She's dealing with all the fallout, you know?"

"Oh," David says, realizing. That makes sense. Syd’s cleaning up his mess, of course she— Not that it was his mess, it was— It was the monster. All this test stuff reminds him— “The, uh— The scans they did before. Was that— Did they find anything inside me?”

Lenny pauses, and then: "Nope. All clean."

"Really?" David asks, surprised, confused. "Maybe they should-- They could check again. Or-- Maybe a different kind of test, maybe--" How did Amahl find the monster in the first place? "A biopsy?"

"We're not gonna cut you open," Lenny says, disapproving. "But if it makes you feel better, I'll ask Ptonomy for a full body scan, okay?"

"Please," David says. The monster is back, he knows it is, there's nothing else that explains any of this. Unless he just-- Completely lost his mind but-- He's not crazy. He's not crazy, he's not crazy.

"Hey, shh shh," Lenny soothes, seeing how upset he is. "We're gonna figure this out, okay?"

David takes a shaky breath, tries to calm himself. "Okay," he echoes, roughly. He finds himself thinking back to-- What happened. Waking up, everything hurting-- "I was hurt, when I-- When I woke up. There was blood."

"Yeah," Lenny says, sobering.

"But there's nothing--" David looks down at himself. He checked, in the bathroom, and there were no wounds. "Where did the blood come from?" If anything, now that the strange pain is fading, his body feels-- Good. His scars are gone, and-- Even the scars from Amahl's tests are gone.

"Guess you're feeling better, huh?" Lenny asks, wryly.

"You said, um-- I need to know about my condition," David remembers.

"I sure did," Lenny says. "And I'd answer all that if I could, I promise. But what happened this morning-- We're still figuring it out."

David sighs, accepting but-- Restless. He's used to constantly keeping up with Amahl's schedule. Even when he was allowed to rest, he didn't have any time to just-- Sit and think. When was his life ever calm enough for that? He was always just-- Reacting. Trying to cope, to survive, to recover, or-- He was too broken to do anything but suffer. The monster--

He realizes finally that he doesn't feel the monster. Just like when he woke up in Amahl's lab. He always felt the monster before that, even if he couldn't hear it or see it. But he doesn't feel anything.

"Lenny, if-- If the scans are right," David starts, uncertain. "If the monster isn't inside me, then-- Why did I see it?"

"Maybe we can figure it out together," Lenny offers. "Describe what you saw."

David hesitates. He can't tell Lenny about Divad or Dvd or his powers-- The monster's powers. But there were other things-- "Why were you there? In Amahl's lab? Why was he there?" He points at Oliver. "Why was-- Why was Amy there? Was she-- Actually there? Why was she-- Like you and Ptonomy?"

Lenny pauses, and then: "Because we're patients."

"No, you're doctors," David says.

"We're doctors and we're patients," Lenny says. "Me and Ptonomy-- Our bodies got hurt, right? Really bad. That's why we're in these prosthetic bodies. It's a special program, experimental, like-- Amahl's work was experimental."

"But Amy's fine," David insists. "I saw her just-- Weeks ago, she-- She was fine." She hated him but she was fine. Dad's dead but she's--

A wave of grief catches him off-guard.

"David?" Lenny says, worried.

"Um, sorry," David says, throat tight against his tears. He tries not to cry but the tears spill out anyway. He didn't cry this much when he was with Amahl. Amahl kept him safe and calm and--

Lenny dabs away his tears again. She doesn't ask what's wrong, but David feel like he needs to tell her anyway. "Um, my-- My Dad died. While I was-- In the hospital."

Lenny looks-- Angry? But then she calms herself. "That's shit, kid. I'm really sorry."

"Amy came and-- She told me," David says, his voice wavering. "So I know she's fine. She was fine, she didn't-- Nothing was wrong with her, she wasn't hurt, she-- Why was she here?" She blew up, does that mean she's gone? But Ptonomy blew up and he's fine.

Lenny pauses again. "She’s here because-- She was hurt, a few weeks ago. Really hurt, like I was. So she needed a new body, too."

"She's here?" David asks, feeling-- Betrayed. "You know her?"

"Yeah," Lenny admits. "That's why we were all together. We were getting our treatments and-- Shit went down. We came to help."

"Why didn't you--" David starts, upset.

"I'm not here for Amy," Lenny says. "I'm here for you. Me and Ptonomy, we both thought you needed to rest before you dealt with anything else. You didn't need another shock, right?"

David's shocked anyway. "Why-- What happened? She was hurt?" Even if she hates him-- She's his-- No, she's not his--

"She wants to see you," Lenny says. "How about she tells you herself?"

"She doesn't want to see me," David insists. "She told me."

"Maybe she said it then," Lenny says. "But she almost died. Trust me, that changes how you feel about a lot of things."

David remembers how angry Amy was, how cold and cruel-- She said such awful things to him, even if she changed her mind-- "Well I don't want to see her," he says. "She said it was my fault, that Mom and Dad were my fault! She said-- I tried to tell her the truth and she called me crazy!"

"Okay," Lenny soothes. "I won't let her in, okay?"

"She's not my sister," David insists. "She's not my family, I don't have a family, I don't--" He chokes, can't keep going. It feels like all the wounds from that day have been ripped wide open. And Amahl's gone. He'll never belong to anyone ever again.

He wants to curl into a ball of misery but he can't. He sobs and moans and pulls angrily at the straps. When Lenny reaches for them, he snarls at her. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

Lenny steps back and crosses her arms. "Scream all you want. I'm not going anywhere."

"I hate you!" David screams at her, because he can't scream it at Amy. "I hate you I hate you!"

Lenny flinches, hurt, but she stays put. David can't stand it. He kicks wildly, trying to kick her or get free or hurt himself. That finally gets a reaction and Lenny grabs his legs and pins them down with that inhuman strength and puts the restraints back on.

She steps back, unhappy, and David feels glad. He gives one last kick and goes still, darkly satisfied. Good. Good, she knows now. She'll stop trying to save him. There's nothing to save. She'll go away and they'll give up on keeping him here and they'll let him die. He sobs, miserable, glad he's miserable, he should be more miserable, he deserves to suffer, he's so useless, he's worthless, he's garbage--

He thinks about the scalpel. If he'd just-- If he'd just been stronger--

Amahl, he thinks, pleading. He doesn't want to be alone. He doesn't want to be David. He wants to be Joonam. He needs Amahl. He'll do anything if Amahl will just--

But no matter how desperately he pleads, Amahl can't hear him. Melanie's gone. Amahl's gone. Syd probably hates him. She should hate him. They should all hate him, he ruined everything.

He breaks into tears, sobs inconsolably. Lenny doesn't wipe away his tears and he's glad, he's glad, she knows now, any second now she'll leave, she'll be hurt and disgusted and leave and never come back like everyone else.

But Lenny doesn't leave. She picks up the box from the floor, puts all of David's things back inside it and puts the box back on the bed. David tries to kick it off again but the restraints stop him. He finally goes still, exhausted, breathing hard, throat hoarse and eyes swollen.

Lenny picks up the crossword book and flips to a new page. She picks up her pen and taps one end against her chin. "Ornamental pond fish," she reads aloud. "Three letters."

David stares at her, baffled.

Lenny gives him a calm, expectant look.

"Koi," Lenny answers, when David doesn't. She writes it in, then considers the puzzle again. "Honey maker. Also three letters."

"Bee?" David rasps, involuntarily.

"Bee," Lenny agrees. She writes it in. "Fauna, seven letters. This one's a little tougher."

David can't not try to figure it out. "Um-- Animal? Animals?"

"Animals," Lenny agrees, and writes it in. She musters a crooked smile for him.

David breathes, in and out. He closes his eyes, opens them. Lenny's still here. He feels bad about-- He shouldn't have-- That's why she should leave, because he hurt her. That's what he does, he hurts people. He's a burden. He's sick, he'll always be sick. Amahl could’ve saved him but Amahl's gone.

Lenny should leave, too. Everyone should leave. But-- He's relieved that she stayed, even if he can't understand it at all.

Chapter 151: Day 13: I need to blow something up. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

All Dvd has wanted to do for the last two weeks, for the last month, for the last ten years, was for David to let him hold him again and make him better. Every time David suffered, it killed Dvd not to be able to help him. When they finally shared this morning, when they found a way past everything Farouk did to their system and reunited--

Nothing has ever felt as good as that, nothing. It was worth all the waiting, all the therapy, all the work to get to that. It was one of the best moments of Dvd's entire life.

He wishes this moment was a good one. It should’ve been. He's sharing with David again, holding him, soothing him. David was getting better, just like he always did. And then--

"Shh, I'm here," Amy soothes. She's holding them in her arms as they cry. David's crying, but sharing their body means Dvd has to cry with him.

Dvd wants to blame Lenny for this. She's supposed to keep Past David calm. What's happening in the infirmary is not calm. But it hurt David when Past David got angry at Lenny. Dvd can't get angry at her, too.

Finally the worst of it passes. David's a mess, feeling Past David's emotions, hearing his thoughts. They got David through all that therapy to help him stop torturing himself, and the shit beetle found a way to make David torture himself anyway.

Dvd forces himself to focus on David, on making David feel all the love Dvd has for him. That's what helps, when David is drowning in grief and shame and pain. Dvd's love is what saves him and keeps him from--

Dvd falters, remembering-- The nightmare. The bite of the ceramic edge, digging in-- The extension cord digging in-- And then he's holding on to David to save himself from drowning. Holding on to Amy. Amy.

It's just like things used to be, when they were young. They're holding Amy together. Except Divad isn't with them. Divad should be with them, their system should be together.

They all want that. But that's why Divad's down in the infirmary, invisibly watching over Past David. Over half of David's part of their soul and most of his memories. Fuck the shit beetle, fuck him. He ripped David apart again, right under their noses. Dvd would be glad that Divad feels so guilty except that he feels just as awful. Being angry at Divad won't make any of this better.

'Thank you,' Divad dryly thinks to him.

'Yeah, yeah,' Dvd thinks back. 'Don't rub it in.'

Divad gives a strained chuckle. Dvd's kind of glad that-- He can make Divad a little better right now. It makes him feel a little better, too. Dvd hugs David's astral form, strokes his sides, his back, holds him all over, loves him and loves him. Past David is calming and David is calming and Dvd is calming. They're okay, they're okay.

"Bee," David rasps, suddenly.

Dvd doesn't know what that's about, but Amy does. "Honey maker," she says, with a sad smile. "Shh. Focus on me, okay? Stay here with us."

'Yeah,' Dvd thinks to David. 'We're sharing, David. We're sharing. Just like Syd, remember? Syd's right here, feel her.'

Syd's sitting on the bed. She moved away to let Amy help, but now she shifts closer again, strokes their side just like Dvd is doing from within. Dvd feels a pang of jealousy, feels the need to claim David all for himself, but lets it happen, lets it pass. Dvd doesn't have to be the only one David needs anymore. It's better this way, it's better. He doesn't want to go back.

He doesn't want to. The shit beetle does that, not him.

"Amy," David rasps, thick with grief. "Dad."

"David?" Amy prompts, softly.

"I feel-- I miss Dad so much," David mourns. "He-- I feel-- He feels--" He sobs. "You didn't let us go to Dad's funeral."

"Oh David," Amy says, heartbroken. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

David breaks down again, crying, holding on to Amy so tightly. Dvd struggles to not be pulled into their grief. He almost steps out of their body, but he forces himself to stay.

"We'll visit him together, okay?" Amy soothes. "We'll look at photos and talk about him and-- We'll say goodbye together, the way we should have."

David wails with grief but Dvd feels how much he wants that, needs it. David didn't need it when Dad died for real, but now-- Past David needs it, so David needs it.

Dvd's used to shared emotions, used to pieces of themselves being split off and shared. But this is--

Divad comes back, appearing next to the bed, behind Amy. He's worried. Dvd can feel how worried he is.

That's new, too. Dvd's not used to feeling what Divad feels. With the crown off, with their shields down-- They're all feeling so much more.

David was on the verge of sleep when Past David freaked out, and now that things are calm again his exhaustion is rushing back. He starts to nod off in Amy's embrace, and Dvd eases back so he's not pulled into sleep, too. He sits up out of their body and climbs off the bed just as David goes out.

Dvd notices Syd staring at him. He raises his eyebrows at her.

"Sorry," Syd says. "Just-- Have to get used to that."

Dvd gives a short nod. There's a lot they all have to get used to. Dvd's very much looking forward to the day when David doesn't have to think about Syd when they're sharing to avoid thinking about the shit beetle. One step at a time, though.

"Going back in?" Divad asks.

"Nah," Dvd says. "He needs to rest."

Divad doesn't believe him. 'For ten years, all you wanted to do was share with him,' he thinks.

'Maybe I don't want to share all the time anymore,' Dvd thinks back, annoyed. And then he's annoyed at what he said. He just--

It was different, when they shared because they wanted to. It was perfect. Sharing because they have to, because they're in pain-- Dvd would never deny David comfort, but--

'It's okay for you to say no, too,' Divad tells him.

'It was awful,' Dvd admits. 'Was it always this awful?' How did that ever feel good? Why was he so desperate to get it back?

He loves David. He loves him so much. He just-- Doesn't want to be forced to-- Feel everything David feels. At least not when David's feeling that.

Syd gets up and hugs herself, walks away from them and then back. "What happened, exactly?"

"Same thing that's been happening all day," Divad says. "David's feeling what Past David feels."

"It wasn't this bad before," Syd says.

"David's defenses were down," Divad says. "And Past David was-- Overpoweringly upset."

"Lenny better not let him freak out again," Dvd warns.

"She's doing the best she can," Divad says. "I didn't think David could get much worse than he was in college, but-- Farouk found a way."

"He doesn't have his system," Dvd says. "That's the problem."

"He didn't just take us away from him," Divad says. "Amy was right. Farouk used her to take away David's family." He turns to Syd. "That's what made him so upset just now. Farouk used what really happened. He had Amy visit the hospital and tell David Dad was dead. So David didn't get to say goodbye again. And that was only a few weeks ago, in the dream."

"So it just happened," Syd realizes. "No wonder it was so bad."

"David tried not to listen, but we heard what Past David thought," Divad says. "I wrote it down. Dvd, can you type it up?"

Divad holds out a sheet of notebook paper, and Dvd takes it, grabs his tablet and starts typing. He scowls every time he has to write 'Amahl.' Fuck the shit beetle. God, this is the worst. Bad enough he had to listen to David listening to it.

Amy shifts David's hold and sits up. David curls around her legs and rests his head on her lap.

"Lenny shouldn't have to deal with this alone," Amy says. "We need a plan. We need a way to-- Do what we did before. Heal the relationships that Farouk broke."

"But how long will that take?" Syd asks.

"We do what Farouk does," Divad says. "We learn from how we healed David. Not so we can break him better, so we can heal him faster. Look, if all this is fresh-- Then that means there hasn't been time for it to sink in. Not like there was for the rest."

"So if we get in there and-- Give David a different story," Syd says, thoughtful. "One that-- Pushes things our way--"

"But it can't be a lie," Dvd warns. "If we lie, Farouk's gonna use that."

"He uses everything," Syd counters. "But fine. What's the story?"

"A few weeks," Amy realizes. "We don't need a story. We just need the truth. Lenny had to explain my android body so she told him I was hurt. And I was."

"He thinks the monster’s inside him" Syd says.

"He doesn't know what's going on," Divad counters. "He can't feel the monster, but the only way he can understand what happened to him is the monster." He frowns, thoughtful. "What if-- What if we do tell him the truth? What if we use as much of the truth as we can?"

"Should you-- Not tell me this?" Syd asks.

"We can't use the relay without David," Divad says. "And it doesn't matter. We'll be telling this to Past David soon anyway. We just have to-- Piece it together. But we know the first piece. Right Amy?"

"Which is?" Dvd prompts.

"I wasn't myself when David saw me," Amy says, vaguely triumphant. "I was the monster."

"Oh, that is good," Dvd says. "That's real good."

"The monster didn't die when Amahl took it out," Syd says. "It was alive and then-- It found you. Got to you and-- Used you to hurt David."

"And then when it was done with me, it hurt me so badly that-- I needed a prosthetic body," Amy says. She's smiling. "I'll send it to the Admiral."

"It'll work," Dvd says. He knows it'll work. "David wants you back. He's just-- Really hurt. Put the blame where it belongs, on the monster. You'll get him back." He sobers. "Wish it was that easy for us."

"We'll figure something out," Divad promises.

"Past David's so upset," Amy says, less happy now. "Even if we have a good story, we still need to get him to listen to it. And Lenny promised to keep me away."

"We can't shake Past David's trust in Lenny," Syd says. "Could we use Ptonomy? Or Clark?"

"Clark's got the most authority," Divad decides. "It has to be Clark. Maybe-- Can we use the consent stuff?"

"I'm checking with Ptonomy and Lenny," Amy says. She closes her eyes and goes still, and everyone waits. She opens her eyes. "Lenny says it'll work if we can let Clark take the hit. Would that be a problem? I know we were trying to use Clark's authority to undermine Amahl."

"That was never gonna be enough," Dvd says, and then-- "Oh. Oh oh! What if it wasn't just Amy?"

"Go on," Syd prompts.

"We still have to explain Oliver, right?" Dvd says. "So we use the truth. The monster gets pulled out of David, but-- It's not dead. And it hitches a ride."

"That's how it escaped," Divad says, pleased. "It took Oliver, bided its time-- And then it went after Amy."

"And then after it finished with Amy-- It went after the only people David had left," Dvd says, grinning even though the idea of David loving Amahl makes him sick. "It went after the Farouks."

"So Oliver brought it to the lab," Syd says. "And then the monster struck. It took Amahl and Melanie. But what about me? What's he been thinking about me?"

"He's doing what he always did," Dvd sighs. "He's blaming himself. He's assuming if something's wrong, it's his fault. He thinks you're staying away because you hate him for fucking up."

Syd looks hurt, and glances over at David, then back to Divad. "I can't just-- Let him think that."

"Whoever the Syd is that Past David knows, it's not you," Divad reminds her. "You're not Sydney Barrett to him. You're Sydney Farouk. You're part of the 'family' Farouk forced on David."

"This is so wrong," Syd moans.

"Let's take advantage of what Lenny said," Divad says. "Stay away from Past David for now. We don't want to-- Force him to chose between his two families, not yet. Not when we'd lose."

"Then why not keep undermining Amahl?" Syd presses. "Amahl tortured him every single day. David has to realize that was wrong."

"He doesn't," Divad says, regretful. "When I-- Tortured him-- He just accepted it. Same as he did with you."

Syd falters, goes quiet.

"We'll fix this," Amy promises.

"There's nothing to fix," Syd says. "I don't have a relationship with Past David. He shouldn't know me at all. The only way to 'fix' our relationship is to erase it." She pauses. "Maybe we should. Maybe all this is just playing Farouk's game. Those dream memories aren't real. We wipe them out, we get Past David back."

"I'm not inside him to do that," Divad says. "And even if I could-- I don't want to do that to David. It's cruel."

"It's more cruel than letting him remember?" Syd presses.

"Syd, how can you say that?" Amy asks.

Syd falters, realizing. "It's not-- It's not the same."

"Fuck you it's not the same," Dvd says, annoyed. "Yeah, now you get it. Making you forget doesn't seem so bad now, huh? Still think we raped you?"

Syd goes pale. She stands up, holding herself very still, and then walks right out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her.

"Dvd," Amy chides. She moves to stand but David clings to her. "Divad, could you--"

"On it," Divad says, and follows after Syd, walking through the door.

Dvd crosses his arms and glares at the door. "Fuck you," he mutters.

"Dvd," Amy chides again.

"Don't 'Dvd' me," Dvd says, baring his teeth. "Maybe we should wipe all this away. He gave us back David's real memories. We figure out how to save the real memories, get them back into David, and dump the rest. Problem solved. Syd's happy, we're happy, everybody's happy except the shit beetle."

Amy looks down at David.

"David doesn't want it," Dvd declares. "All this nightmare bullshit? He doesn't want it. We take it away and Farouk's got nothing. All that work right down the drain."

Amy pets David's hair, careful around the bandages. She sighs. "We'll think about it. But it can't be our decision. It has to be David's."

"Yeah, but half of David's not gonna listen," Dvd says. "How're we gonna get them to agree?"

"I don't know," Amy admits. "But before we jump to brain surgery-- Let's try talk work. In fact, I think you should do some talk work now, with Syd."

Dvd gives an exasperated groan. "I’m not apologizing."

"You don’t have to," Amy says. "But you hurt her. If you don’t do something about that, it’s going to hurt your system. Especially since you still need Syd to share."

"Damn it," Dvd sighs. He gives David one last look, then hauls himself off the bed and trudges after Syd and Divad.

They haven’t gone far, just down the hall. They’re arguing, sort of. Divad keeps apologizing on Dvd’s behalf and Syd keeps telling him she’s fine and wants to be alone.

When Dvd reaches them, Divad is relieved and Syd looks even more like she wants to be absolutely anywhere else.

"Stop apologizing for me," Dvd tells Divad, annoyed.

Divad's less relieved now. "Someone has to."

"David's the one who apologizes for us," Dvd declares. "You're the one who's supposed to figure out how to get us out of this mess. So go do that."

"You think I'm gonna leave you alone with Syd?" Divad asks, disbelieving.

"It's fine," Syd says. "I'll be fine."

Divad clearly doesn't like this, but-- "I'll be with Ptonomy and Clark." 'Don't make this worse,' he warns Dvd, and then vanishes.

There's an awkward silence.

"Amy made me," Dvd admits, because he doesn't know what else to say.

Syd's amused by that, at least. "She would."

"Sisters," Dvd grumbles. "She wasn't even my sister until all this. She was David's sister. We didn't have a relationship. And now she thinks she can just boss me around." He pauses. "If you think I'm gonna apologize, forget it. I meant what I said."

"Okay," Syd says. "I don't expect you to apologize."

"Good, 'cause I won't," Dvd says, firmly. He looks away, crosses his arms, huffs. Looks back. Syd's expression is calm. Dvd really wishes he could read her mind right now. Syd's way too tricky without telepathy. Is she lying? Does she actually want him to apologize? Is she gonna tell David what he said?

"It's rude to stare at people," Syd says.

"You're rude," Dvd replies.

Syd blinks at him. "Am I?"

"You are," Dvd says. "You don't know shit but you act like you've got all the answers. You know what really pissed me off? When you parachuted into the desert like a fucking maniac. We left you out of our plan for a reason. But you just shoved your way in and fucked us over, and you don't even care."

"Excuse me," Syd says, mildly insulted. "And what reason was that?"

"You're the one who made us help Farouk in the first place," Dvd points out, because duh. "If you came along, that meant you'd warn Farouk. And guess what? You did. Thanks a fucking lot."

Syd pauses, considering that. "Cary made the orb. You let him help."

"We only told him what he needed to know to help Lenny," Dvd counters. "And he trusted us. You sure as hell didn't. You only came along to make sure we failed."

"We've been over this," Syd replies. "I was making the best choice for the world."

"Yeah, you did a great job," Dvd says, thick with sarcasm.

"Is there a point to all this?" Syd asks.

"No," Dvd says. "Amy said to talk to you. I'm talking."

"I don't think this is what she meant," Syd says.

"Well fuck her, too," Dvd says, and only feels a little bad about it. "Fuck all of you."

"You're upset," Syd says.

"I've been upset our entire life," Dvd says, loudly. "And the way today's going, I'll be upset for the rest of it."

"How about I apologize?" Syd offers.

"Fuck you," Dvd snarls. He takes a few steps away, then walks back. "Fuck you. Fuck you for making David fall in love with you."

"Hey, that's not my fault," Syd says, finally reacting. "You think I wanted this? It's not something we chose, it just happened. That's how life works. Shit happens and you deal with it."

"Don't talk to me about dealing with shit," Dvd snarls. "Our whole life has been shit thanks to that asshole parasite! And we finally got the chance to kill him once and for all, and you dropped outta the sky and fucked it up! I didn't wanna wipe your memory, I wanted to bash your skull in with a rock!"

Dvd steps back, breathing hard. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

"I see," Syd says, calmly. "And how do you feel about me now?"

"I don't trust you," Dvd says, the words still pouring out. "I think you're gonna get us killed." Or worse.

"Because David loves me?" Syd asks.

"Yes," Dvd rasps.

"I'm sorry," Syd says, and it sounds genuine but who knows? "I was afraid of David because I was afraid of myself. I let myself be used to hurt him and you. I'm trying to be better."

Dvd scoffs.

"I tried to leave," Syd insists. "Believe me, I tried. I tried for a year to let him go but I couldn't. He came back and nothing was right, and he was going to end the world. And then I--" She falters. "I know what it's like to feel trapped, Dvd. I'm trapped right here with you. But I'm trying to make this work. I'm trying to find a way for all of us to survive this. I need you to accept that, because if you don't, we won't be able to get David through this. We just won't."

"All of this is your fault," Dvd snarls. "You should've let us kill him."

"And if I had?" Syd asks. "We know how that went. We know, Dvd. It wasn't anything good."

It hurts Dvd to admit that she's right, even just to himself. But he knows she's right. That future wasn't any good. It just wasn't. Not even the shit beetle's death could save it.

"And now?" Dvd asks, mocks. "How do you feel about us killing the shit beetle?"

"I'll get my own rock and help you," Syd says, and there's no way she doesn't mean it. "I didn't stop you to save Farouk. I stopped you because I was afraid of what David was becoming. He was falling apart and no one else was strong enough to stop him. But you're right, I did exactly what you did to me. I decided I knew what was best and I hurt the people I care about. And I don't want to make that mistake again, but this situation is--" She falters. "I just want to help David. I want the pain to stop. I want Farouk erased from existence."

Syd stops, breathing fast, expectant.

"Me too," Dvd admits, quietly.

"I'm sorry," Syd says, and it's not for any one thing but for all of it, for the whole mess.

Dvd doesn't want to apologize. He doesn't need to. But-- "Sorry, I guess," he mutters anyway.

Syd breathes out sharply, almost a bitter laugh. She rubs at her face. It's David's gesture, and Dvd realizes she picked it up from him.

Somehow that-- Softens him, a little. Just a tiny bit. That Syd's-- Let that tiny bit of David become a part of her. He gets that. He feels it.

"God, I need a drink," Syd groans.

"Probably a bad idea," Dvd says. "We could go back?"

"Worse idea," Syd sighs. "Did David ever take you to D3's shooting range?"

Dvd perks up. "David doesn't like loud noises. But I do."

"Then let's go," Syd says, visibly relieved. "I need to blow something up."

"Me too, sister," Dvd says, with feeling.

Chapter 152: Day 13: I believe you, Davey. I believe you. (Past David)

Chapter Text

The infirmary isn't the busiest place, but someone's always there. There's always someone taking care of Oliver and the other guy, changing dressings, checking machines. Ptonomy stopped by to check on everyone again, and Doctor Orwell sat with David and Lenny for a while. She brought him a vase of flowers, all bright colors, cheerful white and yellow daisies and pinks carnations. No fragrance, but David asked Doctor Orwell to hold it close anyway so he could take in the green plant smell.

Lenny put the vase where David could look at it without turning. It reminds him of the garden.

"Lenny, would it be okay if-- You took me out to the garden?" he asks, after Doctor Orwell leaves.

"Sounds like a good idea to me," Lenny says. "Gotta wait til you're cleared to leave here, though."

"Oh," David says. That makes sense. He realizes the scene he made earlier probably didn't help with that. He wishes he hadn't, he just--

He swallows and tries not to think about it. He looks at the flowers and thinks about the garden. But then that reminds him of Amy and-- He's been trying not to think about Amy.

The infirmary door opens again, and someone comes in. Clark. David focuses on him instead.

"Lenny, David," Clark greets. "How's our patient doing?"

"A little better," Lenny says. "Right, David?"

"Um, yeah," David says.

"Glad to hear it," Clark says, smoothly. "I've been told you'd like to have a full body scan, to confirm that Amahl's surgery was a success."

"Yes," David says, eager. "Please."

"I'm happy to give Ptonomy approval for that," Clark says. "But we need to get consent first."

"I'll sign," David insists. "Whatever you need--"

"That's the problem," Clark says, regretful. "We checked your records. It appears that-- You have a legal guardian."

"My Dad," David says. "But I'm not schizophrenic, I don't need--" And Dad's gone. Then who--

"We understand that," Clark says. "Ideally that legal guardianship will be removed, but-- Until then, our hands are tied. In order to do any more procedures, we need approval from your current legal guardian. And that's your sister, Amy Haller."

"No," David says, upset.

"I understand there was-- Some difficulty between you," Clark continues. "But she very much wants to see you. She said she won't sign anything until she talks to you."

"Why?" David asks, baffled. "So she can tell me no to my face? She hates me. She'll never-- Lenny, please."

"It's a mess, kid," Lenny admits. "Look, you want the scan, right?"

"I need it," David insists.

"Then we rip the band-aid off," Lenny says. "We let her in, let her say whatever she needs to say. I'll be right here with you. If she's a bitch, I'll bounce her right outta here. Deal?"

David struggles with that. He doesn't want to see Amy, he doesn't, but-- He needs to know if the monster is still inside him. He needs that. Maybe-- If Lenny's with him--

"Deal," he agrees, reluctantly.

Clark nods. "She's waiting in the hall. Do you need a moment?"

Rip the band-aid off, David thinks. "No, just-- Send her in." He braces himself, curls his hands into fists.

Clark steps out, and then-- Amy steps in. She looks just like she did this morning, older and-- With a prosthetic body. David can't help but wonder what happened to her, but he's not going to ask.

"David," Amy says, and smiles. She actually looks relieved to see him, and-- Worried and sad.

David eyes her warily. He glances at Lenny and is relieved to see her narrow-eyed and protective. Amy sees Lenny and takes a step back.

"Okay if I sit down?" Amy asks.

"Not gonna stop you," Lenny says, cooly.

Amy pulls over a chair, but leaves a distance between herself and David's bed. She puts her hands on her lap, wrings them together like she always does when she's worried.

"David," Amy starts. "First I want you to know that-- Whatever treatment you need to get better, I'll approve it."

David's startled by that. "Then why--"

"I knew this was the only way you'd agree to see me," Amy says, and gives him a sad smile. "David, I am so sorry about what happened. I wasn't myself, I was-- Something was wrong with me. I was sick."

David stares, confused.

"Sick how?" Lenny challenges.

"I don't know," Amy admits, and David can see that-- She's upset, afraid. "But I didn't feel like myself, I couldn't-- Control myself. I said things but it felt like-- It wasn't me saying them." She shakes her head. "And after I left, I got-- Very ill. That's why I'm-- In this body." She gestures at herself.

David struggles with all that. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying-- David, I didn't mean what I said," Amy says, heartfelt. "Yes, you're adopted, but-- That never made any difference to me. You're my brother, my family. I love you."

David wants to believe that. He wants to, but-- "Why didn't you-- Why didn't you tell me when Dad died?"

"I wanted to," Amy says. "But you were so fragile. I was afraid-- If I told you-- You'd hurt yourself again."

She rubs at her eyes, though there's no tears. Can prosthetic bodies cry? How does David even know this is really Amy?

"Where's your real body?" he asks. "If you're really Amy, where's your real body? I want to see it."

Amy stares, horrified for a moment, and then collects herself. "David, I-- My real body--" She looks to Lenny, and Lenny's worried. "It was hurt very badly. It was--" She takes a deep breath, braces herself. "My body is gone."

"Gone?" David echoes, confused.

"It-- Stopped working," Amy says, and there's a tremble in her voice. "They could only save-- My mind. My soul. That's-- All I am now, Davey."

David stares at Amy, then turns and stares at Lenny. He doesn't want to say it, but--

"Yeah," Lenny admits. "Me too. Sorry, I didn't wanna freak you out."

"And-- Ptonomy?" David asks, faintly.

"Him, too," Lenny says. "Look, they're working on getting us real bodies again, it's just-- Complicated. And these things are pretty good, right? We call em 'sufficiently therapeutic prosthetics'."

David's throat is tight. "So, um-- Dad's dead and-- You're dead," he says, distant with shock. And Lenny and Ptonomy--

"I'm not dead," Amy promises.

"Am I dead?" David asks. He asked before but he still doesn't know.

"You're not dead, Davey," Amy says. She gets up and takes his hand, puts her other hand on his arm. "We're not dead, okay? We've just-- All been through a lot."

David grips her hand. It feels solid, but-- Artificial. "Is anyone else--"

"It's just the three of us," Amy says. "Everyone else is okay. Doctor Orwell and Clark and-- David, I'm so sorry about Dad. I should have told you, I should have-- Taken you home. We should have been there for each other. I want to be here for you now. Please, you don't have to forgive me, but-- Let me help?"

"Did you mean any of it?" David asks, needing to know. "What you said-- Even if you were sick-- Did you mean it?"

"I didn't," Amy promises. "I wasn't myself at all. Maybe-- A seizure, or-- I felt like-- I swear I felt like I was being controlled, but--"

"But what?" David asks. "That's crazy?"

"No," Amy says, soberly. "It's not crazy at all. It's what happened to you."

When he tried to tell Amy before, she didn't believe him. She mocked him, sneered at him. And now--

"You said I was crazy," David insists. "You said I made it all up, that I tricked my doctors!"

"I was wrong," Amy says, without hesitation. "I should have believed you, David. I should always have believed you. You were never schizophrenic. The monster was real. It tortured my baby brother right in front of me and I just let it happen, and even if you forgive me for that-- I'll never forgive myself."

Tears spill out of David's eyes. His whole life, he's needed her to say that. His whole life, and after her visit, he thought-- She'd never, ever say it. But she said it now. She said it.

"Amy," David pleads, needing, and Amy leans down and hugs him, pulls him close. David sobs, strains at the restraints because he can't hug her back. And then Lenny frees one wrist and he can.

"Amy," David sobs. Even if her body isn't real, her hug is. It's her, it's Amy. She believes him. She didn't mean it. She doesn't hate him.

"Davey," Amy sighs, her voice thick with emotion. "My sweet Davey. My baby brother. Shh, I'm here."

Amy sits on the edge of the bed. She frees his other wrist, and hugs him again. He holds her so tight. He breathes in her scent, and somehow-- She smells like herself. She smells like home.

"I missed you," David sobs. He missed her so much. When he was trapped inside himself, when he was in the lab-- He missed her so much.

"I missed you, too," Amy says, full of feeling. She pulls back and cups his cheek, strokes the side of his head. She smiles at him, tearful even without tears. David never liked seeing her cry, but-- These are happy tears.

They hold each other, soothe each other for a while longer. And then Amy sits back. Lenny offers David the tissue box, and he takes several tissues, blows his nose, dries his face. He can't stop looking at Amy. He can't believe she's here, that-- They're okay. She believes him and they're okay.

"How about-- I stay here for a while?" Amy offers. "Give Lenny a break."

David feels a thrill of fear, and looks to Lenny, worried.

"Hey, I'm not going anywhere," Lenny says. "But I think you two need some family time, right?"

"Um, yeah," David admits.

"I'll just go stretch my legs," Lenny says. "Then I'll come right back. You're stuck with me, kid." She gives him the lightest punch on his arm.

David smiles. "Thanks, Lenny."

"Thank you, Lenny," Amy says, warmly.

"Yeah, yeah," Lenny says, waving it off. She heads out.

Amy gets off the bed and takes Lenny's chair, moves it right up to the bed. She takes his hand, holds it. David leans back, takes a deep breath, lets it out. He just stares at Amy, happy. Today's been so awful, but getting Amy back--

"I have a room here," Amy says. "There's apartments. I want you to stay with me."

"What about Dad's house?" David asks.

"It's closed up, but-- I haven't had the heart to sell it," Amy admits. "I have all your things. They're already in my room. Your clothes, your books."

"My lamp?" David asks, remembering-- The lamp he saw this morning. Lenny gave it to—

"We'll go through the boxes together," Amy promises. "But Ptonomy won't release you until-- We need you to be-- A little more stable."

"Amy," David starts, uncertain.

"I know how it is when-- You're in such awful pain," Amy says, with genuine empathy. "When you're desperate to make the pain stop and-- You don't know what else to do."

David stares at her. Amy never understood him this way before. What happened to her? Didn't she say something about--

"A seizure," David says. "Amy, you had a seizure?"

"Possibly," Amy says. "Why?"

"I had a seizure, too," David says, even as he struggles to think it through. "The monster caused it-- I think, but-- You said you felt like-- You were being controlled?"

"But I thought Amahl killed it?" Amy asks.

"So did I," David admits. "But this morning, the explosion-- It was back, somehow, I don't--" He shakes his head. "What if-- Amahl took it out but-- It survived? And--" He meets her eyes.

Amy frowns, thinking. "You think-- The monster found me? Controlled me? Why?"

"To hurt me," David says, the pieces finally coming together. "All it ever did was hurt me, I don't-- Understand why, but-- If it survived-- It makes sense." He gives her an imploring look, afraid she'll react the way she did before, that she'll reject it as nonsense, as symptoms of his sickness.

But she doesn't.

"Then it's here?" she asks, afraid. "David, I can't go through that again. Being-- Its puppet. Hurting you. I tried to stop myself but I couldn't. I just couldn't."

"It's powerful," David tells her, a little dizzy because she actually believes him. And then he realizes. "It killed you?" It killed Amy just to hurt him. "No," he gasps, horrified.

"It tried," Amy says, gripping his hand tightly. "But I'm still here, Davey. I'm still here."

"We have to warn everyone," David insists. "We have to tell Lenny and Ptonomy and Clark and -- I tried to tell them before, but-- They'll believe you."

"I'll tell them," Amy promises. "We'll figure out a way to keep you safe, okay?"

David sobs with relief. He's been so terrified and alone-- But he's not alone anymore. Amy stands up and hugs him, holds him.

"I don't want to die," David sobs, muffled against her. "I just need it to stop."

"I know," Amy soothes. "I know, Davey."

"I couldn't stop it. It was always there and no one believed me, no one--" David's voice breaks, and his face is wet with tears. "I'm not crazy. I'm not, please, I'm not."

"You're not crazy," Amy says, firmly. "I believe you, Davey. I believe you."

David breaks down. He sobs in Amy's arms and she holds him, rocks him. He's not crazy. She believes him. She believes him.

"There's more," David sobs, when he can finally speak again. "Amy, there's so much."

"I want to hear it," Amy says. "I want to hear everything. But not right now, okay? You need to rest."

"Okay," David accepts. He needs to tell her everything but there's so much, and he can still hardly believe-- But there's one thing-- "I think-- It did something to me. This morning. I was hurt and--" He pushes her back, shows her his wrists. "The scars are gone."

Amy touches his arms, the smooth, unblemished skin. "My god," she breathes. "How?"

"I don't know," David says, crying, smiling, shaking his head. "I don't know. I feel like they're there, sometimes, but-- They're gone."

"We'll get that full body scan done," Amy promises. "And anything else you need. We'll stop the monster together, I promise."

David sobs and hugs Amy again. He's not alone. She believes him. He's not crazy. She knows the monster is real. Amy. Amy.

He doesn't want to die. He doesn’t. For the first time in so long, he doesn’t feel like he has to. Even Amahl couldn't--

He feels terrible, thinking it, but-- Even Amahl didn't make the pain stop. He was going to, but-- The monster stopped him. It tried to stop Amy, but she survived. She came back, she's here. He has-- He has his family again.

But Dad's still gone. Grief surges through him, cutting through his happiness. "Dad," he mourns. "I wanted to tell Dad."

"Oh Davey," Amy sighs. "I wish we could tell him, too. I miss him so much. And Mom."

"Mom," David sobs, and that grief is old but it never went away. He remembers-- Someone left cherries for him. Was it Amy? Syd tried to get him to eat them, but he couldn't. "Syd," he says, pulling back to look at Amy again. "We have to tell Syd. If the monster took Amahl and Melanie-- If it hurt them--"

"We'll tell her," Amy promises. "Does she know about the monster?"

"She thought it was dead," David says. "We all did, Amahl and Melanie--" He sniffs. "God, it must have-- Wanted revenge. Amahl took it out of me. What if--" He's afraid to say it, but-- What if it killed them? Or worse? "We have to find them."

"Everyone's trying," Amy says. "But now that we know the monster has them-- Maybe that will help."

David feels a shudder of relief. He helped? He helped. Somehow that's the last straw and he leans back, dizzy, exhausted, overcome.

"Shh," Amy soothes. "Just rest, okay?" She sits back in the chair and takes his hand, grips it. "I'm right here."

Chapter 153: Day 13: Wide open and connected. (David)

Chapter Text

David sits in the air, limbs folded in a lotus position as he meditates. There are currents swirling all around him, countless minds blurring together into white noise, into waves of a vast ocean, ceaseless, always breaking.

He went to sleep reeling from Past David's pain, and woke to intense feelings of-- Love and relief. He felt Amy with him, but he reached for her and she was gone. He cast his mind out automatically and found her with the other half of himself, her thoughts absent but her presence felt through him. And Lenny, too, and warm feelings about Lenny, feelings of safety and protection. Familiar feelings, old and new at the same time. And for once, no longing for Amahl.

David spread flat on the bed and breathed, breathed. He didn't know how they did it, but they did it.

He let his mind drift further. He found Dvd and Syd together, actually enjoying each other's company. He left them to it and found Divad with Clark and Ptonomy, and Ptonomy was another absence but Divad and Clark both felt triumphant.

Past David longed to go to the garden with Amy and wipe away whatever bad memory the monster made there, so David went for him. And now he feels connected to all of them, feels with them even though technically he's alone.

He meditated like this in Summerland, as often as he could. Especially once he got the halo, and then when Farouk was gone. Once he accepted that he had mental powers, that the voices were real, that he wasn't crazy, that all this noise was-- Meaningful--

He wonders if Past David ever felt this way, wide open and connected. He doesn't now, he's afraid of their powers like David used to be. Another new-old feeling. Because they're the same person and they react the same ways.

He feels the pull to reunite, and it would be so easy. If he closes his eyes, he almost feels like they're already together, already whole. He feels like-- If they can just get the crown out of the way--

But he knows they have to be careful.

David told his headmates to take their time, but as soon as they heard him wake up they started wrapping up what they were doing. Divad and Ptonomy met up with Dvd and Syd, and they're getting dinner from the cafeteria. The food comes, and Syd and Dvd take their trays while Ptonomy takes his to--

David feels Past David react as Ptonomy arrives in the infirmary. But then Syd and Dvd and Divad arrive in the garden, and David focuses on them, dials everything else down.

Syd's pleased to see him. "You're looking better."

David feels a flush of pride from Divad, and relief from Dvd.

David smiles and lets his feet touch the floor. "We feel better. Both of us." He turns to Divad. "That was you?"

"Team effort," Divad says. "We brought pizza."

"Green peppers and mushrooms, and ham and pineapple," Syd says, and there's a small flush of pride from her. "We thought comfort food would be a good choice."

"It is," David agrees. "We'll take turns eating?"

"Uh, actually," Divad starts. "I was hoping maybe-- We could eat it together?"

"Oh," David says, surprised. He considers it. He's shared with Dvd twice already. He feels pretty good right now, both parts of him, and-- Pizza and Syd definitely go together. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I want us to do our system foundation, too," Divad says. "And I was thinking-- Maybe we could assemble our lamp?"

David agrees on the foundation work, but-- "Maybe-- We should wait. For Past David.'

A mix of emotions come from Dvd and Divad, then resolve into specific feelings. David thinks of how Oliver described thoughts as music, and understands.

"Yeah, let's wait," Dvd agrees. "We're gonna need it to get him back."

'I'm still not sure we should,' Divad thinks. 'But--' "Okay, we'll hold off."

They settle around the table, squeezing in both trays and everyone's notebooks and tablets.

"Let's do the foundation work first," Dvd decides. "It won't take long, right?"

"Syd, would you mind?" Divad asks. 'It might help us share.'

"I can wait," Syd says.

They get out their system notebooks, Divad using his mental one.

"Man, it's been a while," Divad admits, as they read their list of ideas. 'We kinda let this slide. I think the last thing we did was change brothers to headmates?'

"Uh, what was it Ptonomy said?" Dvd asks. "It was-- Crisis management, recovery--"

"Relationships ideas," Divad says. "And-- Identity."

"We're doing pretty good with the crisis stuff," Dvd decides.

"We try not to hurt our system, and we apologize if we do," David recites. "If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop."

The mantra gives all of them a good feeling.

"Let's leave that as-is," Divad decides. "Maybe recovery should be-- Our system therapy goals? Let's make those."

"We've done a lot," Dvd says. "Can we include stuff we already did?"

"Sure, why not?" Divad says. "In fact, let's do the wish list, too."

'I’m glad I don't have to figure all this out on my own,' Dvd thinks. "Okay, but-- The foundation is the important part."

"All the parts are important," Divad says. "But yeah, foundation first. We need to decide who we are so we can build on that."

"We're headmates," David decides. "That has to be in there."

"Headmates," Divad says, as they write it.

"We have healthy multiplicity," Dvd says. "And we share, but-- We don't have to share everything all the time." He gives them a hopeful look.

"You're right," David says, and his approval makes Dvd happy. "How about-- We share our life?"

"Do we need to say that we're Davids and people?" Divad asks.

"I feel like headmates is enough," David says.

"Yeah," Dvd agrees. "Headmates means we're a system of equals."

"Let's put 'we belong to ourselves' into the foundation," David says. He has it in his and he definitely needs it there.

"Then do we also need 'our mind is our own'?" Divad asks.

"Kinda redundant," Dvd admits. He crosses it out. "What about the forgiveness, love, and acceptance stuff?"

"We already have the love advice," David offers. "Affection and support. Trust, honesty, and respect."

"That doesn't cover everything," Dvd says. "Or about staying angry on purpose."

"We need those to protect ourselves from Farouk," Divad says. "So we can't be manipulated into hurting our system."

They all ponder for a moment.

"Is that everything?" Syd asks.

David looks over the list. "That still leaves 'we're all going to get better' and 'we've lost things we'll never get back. But we're here and we're not alone.'"

"The first one should be a therapy goal," Divad decides. "Let's put it there."

"Get better together," Dvd corrects.

They all write that in.

"Hm, the other one," David considers. "It's helped all of us a lot. Maybe we should put it in our mantra."

"Okay, we'll put it in at the beginning," Divad agrees. "So that leaves-- Two sets of ideas. Let's put them together."

"We're headmates," David starts. "We share our life with-- Healthy multiplicity. We belong to ourselves."

"That's lovely," Syd says, smiling softly.

"Yeah," Dvd says, pleased. "It feels good."

"It fits us," Divad says. "Should we put the rest somewhere else?"

"Maybe with the love advice?" Dvd offers.

"No, it's too important," David says. "If this is what helps us with-- Torture and manipulation--" He considers how to fit the words together. "How about-- 'We're headmates. We share our life with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. We belong to ourselves.'"

They all write it, take it in, and then-- They think it together. David can feel their agreement and-- It's like the peace he felt with Amy. A sense of-- Harmony.

"Perfect," Divad says, smiling.

"It's ours," Dvd says, surprised at his own happiness. "Our system foundation."

"What about the anger part?" Syd asks.

Divad hums. "How about-- We put-- 'Process our anger' in our system therapy goals? And-- Let's add 'Forgive ourselves and each other' and 'Accept ourselves and each other'."

They add it there.

"If we're doing the goals, how about 'share our body together?'" Dvd offers. "But also-- 'learn to have healthy boundaries.'"

They add both.

"'Protect ourselves'," David suggests. "And-- 'Defeat our parasites'."

"Nice," Dvd says, as they write.

'Wow, we're doing really well,' Divad thinks. "Anything for the wish list?"

Syd's stomach rumbles loudly, and they all laugh.

"Guess my stomach wishes for that pizza," Syd admits.

"We got a lot done," Divad says. "Let's just think of one thing and we'll eat."

"One thing we all want?" Dvd asks.

"Right now I feel like-- We have what we want," David admits, and feels how happy that makes his headmates, and how their happiness makes him happy.

"Almost," Divad says, sobering a little. "What we wish for most right now-- Is to be safe."

"Yeah," Dvd admits, sobering too. "I want us to be safe."

"Safe," David agrees. He feels safe right now, surrounded by his family and friends here and in the infirmary. But yes.

They look over their new system foundation. It's kind of amazing how quickly it all came together, except-- It was all the hard work before this that got them here. They earned this moment.

And they've earned some pizza. It smells really good.

"Okay, okay," Divad relents. "Have a few bites and we'll share for the rest."

Syd moans as she bites into her green pepper and mushroom. David tries his and the first bite is bliss. All that gooey cheese and salty ham and sweet-acid pineapple. It's exactly what he needs.

"Don't hog it," Dvd complains, when David keeps eating.

"Sorry," David says around his mouthful. He forces himself to put down the slice. He didn't realize how hungry he was until now. Today's been-- Rough on his stomach.

Their stomach. Their body. Their system foundation. They should share their food together.

Syd puts down her slice and watches, attentive.

"Okay," Divad says, in a soothing tone. "We'll do the same thing we did before, but this time I'll be Syd."

"Right," David accepts. Divad is Syd, just like Dvd was. It helps that she's here, that he can feel her so close. He closes his eyes, takes himself back to the memory, to escaping Clockworks, to sitting in the cafe, held inside of Syd's body, safe and held.

"David?" Syd says, softly. He opens his eyes and sees-- She's offering her hand.

He takes it, grateful. He closes his eyes again, focuses on Syd here, on the memory of her body. On the way she held him. On the way-- Dvd held him today, soothed him with his love, comforted him inside their body. He lets the feeling of Dvd and Syd blend together, makes-- His own cocktail of his feelings for them, of the way they feel when-- They share.

"Just feel it," Divad murmurs, shifting closer, closer, and then-- Inside.

Like Syd, like Syd. Like Syd and Dvd. Like Dvd and-- Divad. Divad and Dvd and Syd. It's the same, it's all the same, they all-- Belong together, touching, sharing.

David lets out a shaky breath, feeling Divad around him, feeling inside of Divad. It's different than Dvd or Syd, but-- It's okay. It's good. He lets himself be held and it's good.

"Easy," Divad soothes, speaking with their mouth. "Slow and easy." He squeezes Syd's hand with their hand. They squeeze it together.

They breathe together as David holds his memories close, as he makes those positive connections as strong as he can. Their free hand moves and rests over their heart. Divad and Syd, Divad and Dvd and Syd, all holding him.

A few more minutes, and then--

"How about," they say, "we share with Dvd, too?"

They take a shaky breath, let it out. Dvd feels safe. They grip Syd's hand. "Okay," they say.

Dvd steps inside, pulling around David, pulling him deeper inside. And the feeling--

The feeling. Of being held, of being-- Within his system--

David knows now that this is what he missed. This is the feeling he missed, the feeling that being inside of Syd's body reminded him of.

A few tears leak from their eyes. David doesn't know if they're his tears or Dvd's tears or Divad's. Maybe it's their tears, their-- Relief and grief and joy at being together again.

They're smiling, grinning through the tears.

'David,' Dvd thinks, Divad thinks, heartfelt.

Gradually they calm, and David settles into this-- New-old feeling. The most new-old feeling of all.

'How about that pizza?' Dvd thinks.

'How do we--' David thinks.

'We'll eat together,' Divad says. 'Just let it happen.'

'Okay,' David thinks, and lets himself-- Relax into them. It's okay that their body is moving, he's letting it happen. Slow, easy movements, nothing scary. He trusts them, he knows they'll protect him, they'll keep him safe. It's what they all want.

And they all want pizza.

They eat carefully, savoring each bite together. Syd eats too, matching them. He feels such curiosity from her, and a need for-- Belonging. To be part of what they're doing, to be with them. David likes that. They smile at Syd and she smiles back.

They finish eating. They drink water, wipe their face with a napkin. They feel sated, content. They feel happy together.

'Just tell us when you want to stop,' Divad thinks.

'Not yet,' David thinks. He wants to savor this feeling. He forgot it for so long, and now he knows it again. It feels like-- They're healing something that was severed. Something that was cut out.

Like his memories. Like-- Their parents faces. He knows their faces again, and now-- He knows what it's like to-- Sit and eat with his system. Not pizza but-- Cherries.

'Are you sure?' Divad asks.

'I'm sure,' David thinks. They hold out their hand and then-- Cool ceramic presses against their open palm.

"Davids?" Syd asks, surprised by the sudden creation of a bowl of cherries.

"We're just-- Trying something," they say. They put down the bowl and take a cherry. They put it in their mouth and then-- Bite down.

David remembers-- Sitting at the kitchen counter, slicing open cherries and digging out the pits so Mom could use them for a pie, but he kept eating them instead of putting them into the mixing bowl.

No. They kept eating them. They cut open the cherries together, dug out the pits with their thumbnail.

There's a paring knife in their hand. They take a cherry and pull out the stem, and then-- Slice around the pit, twist the cherry apart. They dig out the pit and then-- Look at the cherry halves.

The memory fills in around them. The kitchen, the morning light, Mom in her apron, making the crust. Dad standing nearby with his coffee, tired but happy. Amy on the next stool, cutting open another cherry. The clock on the wall, the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze.

"Davids," Syd breathes, awed. And David realizes--

He made it real. Created the memory as a-- Mental space. It's their childhood, his system's childhood. A recreation of a reconstructed memory, but it feels so real.

They see their parents' faces, no shadows here. They see so many small details, and he doesn't know if they're real or just-- Something he imagined, but--

It's home. A home that's-- Long gone, but-- Still home, in their heart.

Like the home he made with Syd and Lenny in Clockworks. Like the home he found so briefly in Summerland. Like the home they had in the lab. It doesn't matter that those places are gone or half-forgotten. He remembers the feeling. It's part of him, of them. It's their love.

They offer Syd the pitted cherry. She takes one half, leaves them the other. They spit out the pit from the first cherry, and then-- They all eat together.

Chapter 154: Day 13: David and the Purple Crayon (Past David)

Notes:

I swear to god, me and mossomness finished this way before Chapter 22 aired and featured "Harold and the Purple Crayon". There was cosmic confluence of events regarding a children's book, that's the only way we can explain it.

Chapter Text

When Lenny comes back to the infirmary, she brings Clark and Ptonomy with her, and David watches as Amy explains to all of them about the monster. And despite David's fears, Clark and Ptonomy and Lenny immediately accept what Amy tells them. They accept that the monster is still alive, that it's what destroyed the lab, that the monster is responsible for Amy’s condition and Amahl and Melanie's disappearance. They even accept David's missing scars.

They believe Amy. They believe him, they don't think he's crazy.

They post guards outside the infirmary and agree to do more tests tomorrow, once David's feeling better. David doesn't see why how he feels matters, it never mattered to any of his doctors, not even Amahl. But when he pushes for them to keep going, they gently but firmly refuse.

Clark and Ptonomy leave after that, but Ptonomy promises to return for dinner. David briefly puzzles over prosthetic bodies and dinner, but he's too worn out to do anything but accept.

They believe him. They all believe him and they'll protect him from the monster.

He almost breaks down again, but Lenny and Amy soothe him, help him be calm. It's a little bit like-- How Amahl soothed him, how-- The monster--

He can't think about the monster. It's too much. He focuses on Amy, on Lenny and Amy and this room and that he's safe, he's safe, he's safe, and Amy believes him.

And then Ptonomy comes back with two trays full of pizza, and David's stomach growls loudly.

Amy laughs softly, happily. "Hungry, huh?"

"Yeah," David admits, surprised. Is that-- Ham and pineapple?

"Your favorite," Amy says. She puts the tray on his lap.

David grabs the first slice and moans in happiness as he takes the first bite. All that gooey cheese and salty ham and sweet-acid pineapple. It's exactly what he needs. Amahl never let him have pizza. Not that he ever had a chance to ask, but--

He polishes off an entire slice and then leans back, just-- Happy. Full of delicious pizza and happy.

He finally notices that Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy all have pizza, too. Not the same as his, it has ham but also sausage and pepperoni. And they're-- Smelling it?

"What are you doing?" David asks.

"Sensory stimulation," Ptonomy explains. "We can't eat, but we can smell our food, and-- We have a way of making it feel like we're eating."

David tilts his head, confused.

Lenny twitches a smile. "I got this," she tells Ptonomy. "These bodies can't eat, but eating's important. How good was that pizza?"

"Really good," David admits.

"And it made you happy," Lenny says. "Don't lie, I see that smile."

David blushes. "Um, yeah."

"So we do this-- Simulation thing," Lenny says. "All of us together. And it makes it feel like we're eating. You wanna watch?"

"Uh, sure," David says. He glances at his second slice, but it'll wait.

Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy ready themselves, and then they pick up their slices and bring them to their mouths. They pretend to bite into them, like kids playing with plastic food, and then-- Chew together, synchronized.

They're eating together, like-- Like he used to with--

They take a few more imaginary bites, and then put down their slices.

Lenny gives a satisfied sigh. "Almost like the real thing."

"But you don't need to eat," David says, confused.

"We don't need to, but we like eating," Amy says. "We miss it. And-- Being without our real bodies is difficult. Our prosthetic bodies help a lot, but-- We need to do things to take care of ourselves while we're inside them."

"We can't sleep without our bodies," Ptonomy says. "So we do most of our treatments at night, when everyone's asleep."

David turns to Amy. "You can't sleep?"

"No," Amy says, sadly.

"That's awful," David protests.

"It's not forever," Amy promises. "Once we're in real bodies again, we'll go on a tropical vacation and sleep and eat all we want."

"Fuck yeah," Lenny sighs, longing.

"A tropical vacation?" David echoes, bemused.

"Hey, what's not to love?" Lenny asks. "Sun, sand, sexy chicks. It's an all-you-can-eat buffet."

Somehow David doubts Lenny's talking about food. "I guess that sounds nice."

"Trust me, you're gonna love it," Lenny says.

"You want me to come?" David asks, surprised.

"Of course we want you to come," Lenny says.

"But I'm-- Your patient," David tries. "I'm sick."

"You're not gonna be sick forever," Lenny says, confidently. "And besides, just 'cause we're helping you, that doesn't mean we can't be friends."

David feels a strange sense of deja vu. "Um, I guess. That's--" Syd said that. But Syd's not here. She still hasn't come back. He's starting to think--

Of course she-- Of course it was just-- A treatment. Why would she ever-- And now Amahl's work is over, so--

"David?" Amy prompts, worried.

"Sorry," David says, automatically. Everyone was happy and he ruined it, of course. That's what he does. But if Syd could just-- Abandon him after-- Then why wouldn't Lenny? Why wouldn't anyone?

Amy takes the tray away, then-- Hugs him. Holds him.

"I know you're in terrible pain," she says, softly. "But I love you and I'm here for you. I wish I could take all that pain away, I wish it so much. No matter how ashamed you feel-- You're a good person and you deserve love."

David stares, startled. He pulls back to look at her. She gives him a warm, loving smile, and takes his hand.

"You're so-- Different," David says, trying to understand. How did she know that-- Saying those things would help him? How did she know how he felt?

"I've been through a lot," Amy says. "But being here-- I've learned a lot, too. About trauma and-- How to heal it. For myself. For you."

"For me?" David echoes. Even though she explained what happened that day she visited, even though he knows it was the monster, not her--

Amy's thumb rubs against his hand. "After they brought me here, I got-- Our photo albums, from Dad's house. I'd like us to look at them together."

David hesitates. Sometimes his whole life just feels like-- Nothing but bad memories. He doesn't want to think about them or be reminded of them or-- Look at photos of them. And whatever good things there were-- They're gone. It's all gone.

Mom and Dad. Divad and Dvd.

He starts crying again and Amy holds him, soothes him.

"Okay," she says, gently, as she rubs his back. "We don't have to. It's okay."

"I miss them," David mourns.

"Mom and Dad?" Amy guesses.

David nods, but-- He misses Divad and Dvd even more. The monster's masks, and he misses them. He shouldn't miss them but he can't help it. Like he misses King. They were all he had and the monster took them away. Amahl took them--

No. Amahl didn't. The monster isn't dead. It's alive, it's-- Here, somewhere. It came back.

It brought Dvd and Divad back. He saw them. And he feels-- Some twisted hope--

He shouldn't want them back. He shouldn't. The monster hurt Amy, and all it ever did was hurt him. But--

Sometimes-- It took care of him. It made him feel good.

And it came back.

His tears stop and he calms. Amy gives him a tissue and he dries his face. He takes a deep, shaky breath, lets it out. Amy gives him a soft look, then sits back down in her chair.

"I miss them, too," she says, finally. "Maybe-- We can miss them together."

David musters a wobbly smile.

"How about we finish up our pizza?" Amy asks. "Maybe-- We can all eat together?"

Like he did with Divad and Dvd. "Yeah," David says, recovering. Watching them eat together-- He misses that. It was one of the ways that-- They took care of each other, of their body. Him and-- The monster.

Amy gives him back the tray, and David watches as the three of them pick up their own slices. They pause, preparing, and he picks up his own. And then, all together, they bite down, chew slowly, all in sync.

A few tears leak out, but David just feels-- Happy. Longing for-- The good parts of-- What they had. He wishes they could just-- Have the good parts back and not-- Everything else.

If he just knew why the monster had to hurt him-- If he could just-- Fix things, make the monster happy-- Maybe they could only have the good parts.

He knows it's wrong to want that. But he misses Divad and Dvd and King so much. He misses not being alone. He hates being alone in their body. It had to be his body when he thought the monster was dead, but now--

David finishes his slice, watching Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy, longing for the monster's masks, longing for-- Things he knows he shouldn't, but-- He longs for them anyway.

After dinner, Ptonomy and Amy step out of the infirmary. David gets a glimpse of the guards outside the door and despite his longing, he does feel safer with them there. He's too tired for crosswords, so Lenny just keeps him company.

Amy comes back with a stack of clothing and a few books. David recognizes them right away. She must have opened up his college boxes.

"Clean clothes for tomorrow," Amy says, showing him the pants and shirts, boxers and stripey socks. "And your pajamas. How about you go wash up and get changed, and then I'll read to you?" She hands him the pajamas, then the books. "Which one would you like?"

David looks at the books. Two of them were ones that-- Divad, that-- The monster chose. David always got bored when Divad was reading those. They're wordy and complicated and mostly sad. But the third book--

"That one?" Amy asks, fondly. "I thought so."

David goes into the bathroom with his old pajamas and his new toiletries, and feels warm things about Amy and Lenny as he gets ready for bed. They let him close the door almost all the way. He focuses on Amy and Lenny and doesn't think about the mirror except to look at his reflection in it. He checks his arms again and the scars are still completely gone. He wonders why, but can't figure out why the monster would take the scars away, much less how.

He gets back into bed and Amy tucks him in. They don't use the restraints.

"Okay," Amy says, settling in with the book. "Here we go."

"Read it the right way?" David asks, in case she forgot.

"Always," Amy promises, warmly. She opens the book, flips to the first page of the story. "David and the Purple Crayon," she begins. "One evening, after thinking it over for some time, David decided to go for a walk in the moonlight. There wasn't any moon, and David needed a moon for a walk in the moonlight. And he needed something to walk on."

She pauses and shows him the drawing of the little boy creating a moon with his purple crayon. Then she continues.

"He made a long, straight path so he wouldn't get lost," Amy reads. "And he set off on his walk, taking his big, purple crayon with him." She reads on, and then reaches the next important part. "David didn't want to get lost in the woods, so he made a very small forest with just one tree in it. It turned out to be a cherry tree! The cherries would be very tasty, David thought, when they got red, so he put a frightening dragon under the tree to guard the cherries."

Amy makes a pantomime gasp, and shows him the crayon dragon guarding what was originally meant to be an apple tree, until David drew over it with a real crayon and made it full of cherries instead.

Amy continues reading. The David in the book makes an ocean and then a boat, and then 'makes land'. David always laughed at that part. And then--

"The sandy beach reminded David of picnics, and the thought of picnics made him hungry," Amy reads. She shows the picture of the boy on a picnic blanket full of pies. "There was nothing but pie. Nine cherry pies, the kind David liked best! When David finished his picnic, there was nothing left over, he ate them all up!"

David grins, and-- Even though he didn't want to look at the photo albums-- The book reminds him of so many good moments. That's why he brought it with him to college. Mom and Dad and Amy each took turns reading it to him over the years. He always liked being read to, the soothing rhythm of their voices. And he would drift off to sleep, listening.

He yawns as the David in the book makes a whole city trying to find his way back home. He yawns again and settles back against his pillow, eyes barely open.

"And then suddenly David remembered," Amy reads. "He remembered where his bedroom window was, when there was a moon. It was always right around the moon! And then David made his bed. He got in it and he drew up the covers. The purple crayon dropped on the floor. And David dropped off to sleep."

Amy sets down the book and sees that David has almost dropped off to sleep, too, just like in the book. She stands and kisses his forehead, strokes his cheek. "I'll be right here when you wake up, Davey," she promises.

"Amy," David murmurs, and lets his eyes shut.

Chapter 155: Day 13: She needs to see his regret. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"Syd, you can let go now. Come back to us."

Syd follows the sound of Doctor Orwell’s voice. She’s in a labyrinth, organic and electronic, with dozens of eyes to look through at once. She’s always herself, no matter whose body she’s in, but nothing has tested that like the Admiral’s body. Could it even be called a body when it’s so vast? When it’s dozens of bodies and a mainframe overflowing with data streams? How does Ptonomy stand it?

"Syd," Doctor Orwell calls again, more insistent this time. "Syd?"

"Syd." It’s David’s voice this time. David. She focuses on him, on— The body closest to him. She opens its eyes.

"Syd," David says, relieved.

"You can let go of the swap now," Doctor Orwell says. "Just let go."

Syd takes a steadying breath and—

Opens her own eyes. Breathes out. Feels the limits of her body, the single pairs of arms and legs and ears and eyes and lungs.

The androids in the chairs by the wall open their eyes, too.

Doctor Orwell moves over to them. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," Ptonomy says, relieved. "Thanks Syd, this really helps."

Amy sighs with relief. "It does, thank you."

Lenny stretches widely. "Definitely needed that. Today’s been rough."

"I’ll take the first shift," Amy says. "Tell Dvd I’m coming?"

David pauses, then— "Done."

Syd looks over at Divad. He’s intensely focused on the terminal hooked up to everyone’s sensors. "This is giving us so much data," he murmurs. "Cary will—" He cuts himself off, frowning.

"We’ll get them back," David promises. But Syd can see from his expression that he’s not as confident as he wants to be.

And of course he’s worried. He still can’t find any trace of Cary or Kerry, just like he couldn’t find Amy before. If Syd could just swap with Past David—

But she can’t. She never thought she’d be angry about not being able to swap, but here she is.

"Divad, your turn," Doctor Orwell says. "Lets get those bandages changed."

"Uh-huh," Divad says, absently. Syd thinks he’ll spend all night going over the data if they let him. No wonder he hit it off with Cary so well.

David goes still in a way that Syd knows means he’s having a telepathic conversation. "Dvd says he wants to stay for a while," he tells Amy. "That okay?"

"Of course," Amy says, pleased. "We can spend some time together."

David pauses again. "Dvd says he’d like that," he relays, and is obviously pleased about it.

"You two get to bed," Ptonomy tells Syd and David. "Get settled. We’ll send Dvd and Divad up soon."

They say their goodnights, with plenty of hugs. And then it’s just— Her and David alone in the elevator. And then it’s just the two of them alone in her room.

Their room. It was always meant to be their room, a big suite with a double bed. There’s so many ghosts here, now. David’s absence, her own solitary presence, haunting it day after day, and then—

"Syd?" David asks, wary and concerned.

"It’s nothing," Syd says, automatically, even though they both know it’s a lie. And right away she sees how that lie hurts David, pushes him away, like always.

She sees him struggling for what to say. He looks back at the door. "Maybe, um—"

"Wait," Syd says.

"Okay," David says. He waits, watchful, uncertain.

She sits at the end of the bed, like she did the night David returned. "Sit down," she says, and pats the bed.

David hesitates, then sits beside her. Then he slides a few inches away, leaving more space for her even though as a projection he’s safe for her to touch. She thinks of their first night in Summerland, and how he pulled away out of respect for her.

She looks at the floor by the sofa, where—

"Dvd said something to me, earlier," she starts, finally. "He asked if— I still thought you raped me."

David immediately looks like he wants to be anywhere else. But he stays. Swallows. "Um. Do you?"

Syd considers, and then: "Yes."

"Oh." David definitely looks ready to bolt now. If she upsets him much more, Dvd and Divad will probably show up to intervene. She’s glad they would, but— She needs to talk to him about this alone. Or as alone as they can be.

"I’m not— Saying this to hurt you," Syd tells him. "I know we’ve— Gone over this a lot already. And I do forgive you, David. I really do."

She tries to feel that forgiveness strongly, so David will feel how much she means it.

It works. David’s panic edges down. His expression softens. "So, um—" he prompts, still uncertain where all this is going.

"You raped me," Syd says again, needing to say it even though it makes David flinch. He should flinch. It’s the least he can—

No. She’s not going to get angry about this. She doesn’t want to push David away. She wants to be with him. She just— Doesn’t know how to move past this.

"Maybe we don’t," David says, answering her thoughts. "I know— You stayed because you had to. Because of Farouk. I don’t want— He’s tried so hard to— Take every inch of me for himself. I’m so sorry I did that to you, I’m—" He cuts off, distressed.

Syd doesn’t try to make him feel better. She needs to see his regret. Not as a punishment, but— It’s the only way she can trust him again. If all this therapy has really changed him, if—

"I saw the recording of you, that night," she says. "You were talking to Dvd and Divad. They wanted you to kill Farouk and leave without me."

David stares, surprised. "Yes," he admits.

"Would you like to see it?"

David hesitates, then nods. Syd gets her tablet and sits back down in the exact same spot. She opens the video footage, pulls up the file, plays it.

David watches himself. On the video, the conversation with his headmates ends, and then he’s sitting silent, apparently meditating.

"I have the next part," Syd says, calmly but— Tense inside. "Will you watch it with me?"

David is horrified. "You want me to— Watch me rape you?"

"I’ve watched it," Syd says. "A few times. More than a few. It helped me."

"How?" David asks, upset.

Syd isn’t sure how to answer that.

"Syd, I can’t—" David starts. "I can’t— No." He stands up. "No. I’m not gonna play some game where you force me to relive awful memories and I’m supposed to guess the right answer."

Syd closes the tablet, chastened. "That’s not—" she starts, but— Maybe it is.

She was so focused on if David’s changed, but— She needs to change, too.

"You’re right," she admits. "I’m sorry, that was— Abusive. I’m sorry." She sets the tablet aside.

David rubs at his face, tense. "Is this— Not gonna work?"

"I don’t know," Syd admits. "We— Hurt each other."

"I don’t want to hurt you," David says, pleads. "I never did."

"So you took away my pain and made me feel good," Syd says, calmly. "I know. But that’s what hurt me, David. That you felt— You had the right to control how I feel. You don’t."

"I know," David insists.

"Just because you can hear my thoughts and feel my emotions, that doesn’t make them yours," Syd tells him. "Just because you love me, that doesn’t make any of me yours. It never did."

"I know," David pleads.

"I don’t trust you," Syd admits, and saying it out loud at least feels healthier than refusing to even admit it to herself. "You could change me again and I wouldn’t even know."

"Syd, I wouldn’t," David insists.

"I would," Syd admits. "I want to. That half of you in the infirmary? I want to make that part of you forget me. And—"

"And what?" David presses.

Syd doesn’t want to say it. It’s going to hurt David if she says it. But if she doesn’t say it, she’ll think it, and he’ll still hear.

"If you don’t want me anymore, just say it," David says, tiredly.

"No," Syd says, but softens. "I do want you. I want you so much. I just— Don’t want you to remember."

David gives a frustrated sound and sits down on the sofa, his head in his hands.

Syd feels bad for being— All over the place. Mixed signals. Yes and no and both. But that’s the thing. She barely lets herself know how she feels. But David always knows anyway. She doesn’t know how to deal with that. Not just— That he has the power to change her, but— That he could know her better than she knows herself.

"You sound like them," David says, his voice rough. "That’s what they said, that— But I don’t want anyone else to decide who I am, no matter what they know. That’s what was done to me, and I— I don’t want anyone else to feel the way I do."

"How do you feel?" Syd asks, needing to know

"Violated," David admits, forcefully. "Manipulated, controlled— Farouk— He’s forcing me to feel things, he tricked me into loving him. And I hate it. I want to make myself forget. But I can’t. I won’t— Be like him. I won’t let him force me to treat myself the way he treats me, like— I’m just a thing he can shape in his image." He glares up at the ceiling. "You hear that? You’re not my father and I will never belong to you."

He looks away from her, upset.

"Then you want to remember?" Syd asks. "Even though—"

"Yes," David says, certain. "I don’t care what he did to me, they’re my memories. Mine. I want them back."

"Even though they’ll be— Painful. They’ll change you."

"Everything changes me," David says, with bleak humor. "I’ve lost so much of my life. Whatever’s in that part of me— I just want it back." He hugs himself. "I want it back. And he knows that." He looks at her and— He’s terrified.

All of Syd’s resistance falls away. She wants to reach for him, but she put so much distance between them. She did that. She doesn’t feel able to cross it yet.

But there’s no distance between their minds. She tries to— Focus on her love for him. She does love him, so much. She’s sorry she hurt him and pushed him away.

"Syd," David protests. "Don’t."

She stops.

She forces herself to stand up and walk over. She sits down on the sofa, leaving a safe distance between them.

"I’m sorry," she says, genuinely.

David nods, accepting. He seems a little less tense.

"I shouldn’t have—" Syd starts, but doesn’t know how to finish. "I’m sorry."

"It’s fine," David says, but Syd know he’s lying.

She feels awful for making him talk about all this, she just— Needed to be sure.

"So are you?" David asks.

Syd presses into her feelings, into the old bruise. "I believe you more now," she acknowledges.

"Great," David says, bitterly. "Um. I’m gonna—"

"Wait," Syd pleads. "David wait, please. Stay."

"I think I should have my own room tonight," David says, tightly.

"You can’t be alone," Syd says.

"I’m never alone," David says, and walks out, right through the closed door.

"Shit," Syd sighs, roundly kicking herself. What’s wrong with her? Shit.

She can’t—

She gets up and goes out into the hall, but David’s gone. He could be anywhere. He could’ve gone back to Summerland again for all she knows. Where would he go?

She gets in the elevator and goes down to the infirmary. David’s there, and Amy and Dvd. Syd notes there’s a sleep inducer on Past David’s head. That won’t keep Farouk out of his dreams, but at least he won’t remember them.

Not that that worked out so well for them before.

"David," Syd starts, but she’s not sure what to say. He’s upset, she upset him. She should leave him alone, except— What will Farouk throw at them next?

"I’m staying here tonight," David tells her. He goes over to the bed he was in that morning and gets it ready. He’s suddenly in pajamas.

"David," Syd starts again.

"No," David says, firmly. "This is me saying no. You wanna help? Model for me and go away."

Syd stiffens. She supposes she deserved that. "Okay," she agrees, and walks out.

Shit, she thinks, tears pricking at her eyes. Shit. She didn’t mean— Damn it. Damn it.

Ptonomy arrives. He looks serious but not angry. Syd lets out a sharp breath.

"There’s footage from your room," Ptonomy says. "Do you want me to look at it?"

Syd rankles, but at least Ptonomy has the consideration to ask. Syd hates this place. "Yes," she says anyway, not wanting to have to go through it all again.

Ptonomy watches it, then grimaces. "Ah."

"Yeah," Syd sighs. "I didn’t— I just—" She takes a breath. "I don’t know how to stop punishing him."

"You’re getting there," Ptonomy says. "This kind of change— It’s not all at once. It’s doing the work every day, even when you screw up."

"I really screwed up," Syd admits.

"You went back to the place where you were raped, alone with the man who raped you," Ptonomy says, plainly. "I can’t even walk into that lab without feeling sick. Maybe you should choose a new room."

"I don’t want a new room," Syd insists, upset. "That’s supposed to be our room. It’s supposed to be ours." David’s supposed to be hers. Her palm tree. She just wants him back.

And she knows that’s how he felt that night. He just wanted to be with her again. He wanted to undo what Farouk did and just be happy together on some farm.

"The research team has a sleeping area," Ptonomy offers. "There’s room for another cot."

"What about Dvd and Divad?" Syd asks.

"Wherever they want to sleep, we’ll work that out," Ptonomy says. "We’re still all doing this together, okay?"

"Okay," Syd says, even though she doesn’t feel okay at all. Both parts of David are upset with her now. One thinks she hates him and the other—

She doesn’t hate him. She swears she doesn’t. She’s just hurt and— When she’s hurt she shoves all her feelings down, or she hurts whoever hurt her. Usually both. She’s trying to open up but there’s nothing good inside her. She’s—

She’s hurting herself. Like she did when she watched that video, over and over.

"Ptonomy, um," Syd starts. "My— Thoughts are— Painful. To me."

That’s the second time today she’s had to ask for his help. It’s still so hard. But she can’t—

"Okay," Ptonomy soothes. "Remember your foundation, your mantra."

Love makes her strong, she thinks. Pain makes her weak. She has to be vulnerable and acknowledge her feelings. If she lets go of her pain, love will help her heal.

But what will help her heal if she loses David? What if being vulnerable— Only pushes him away?

"Syd, I need you to tell me what you’re thinking," Ptonomy says.

Syd tries. It’s so hard to say any of it at all. She feels like— The silent hell of her childhood is inside her, suffocating her. Don’t let anything show, shove it all down and down until the pressure’s too much and she has to let it out. But there’s no reward for that, no comfort, just more silence—

Someone clears their throat. Syd turns. It’s Dvd. He hands them a piece of paper, the writing blocky and messy but—

"Me and Divad are getting into the habit of writing down what David hears," Dvd says. "If you’re gonna stand here and shout at us, I figured I’d help."

Shit. Shit.

"Yeah, telepathy’s a bitch," Dvd says.

Ptonomy takes the paper when Syd doesn’t. He reads it. "This is very helpful, Dvd. Thank you."

Dvd gives a casual shrug.

"I know things have been a little hectic," Ptonomy says to Syd. "But you’re overdue for a session."

"Yeah," Syd admits. She knows he’s right. "Now?"

"Now," Ptonomy agrees.

They go to the conference room and take two chairs at the end of the table.

"Let's start by taking a breath," Ptonomy says. "Today's been incredibly difficult for all of us. I think every single one of us has had at least one breakdown today."

"Lenny didn't," Syd says.

Ptonomy just gives her a look for that.

"You're saying-- It's normal that I got upset," Syd says, trying again.

"It's completely normal," Ptonomy says. "With the pressure you're under, being Farouk's prop, helping everyone, dealing with your own issues-- It's absolutely natural that you hit a wall. What we need to talk about is what you did when you hit it. And we need to talk about ways of bailing out before you crash. How about we do that one first?"

Syd nods.

"I know that-- Being in touch with your body is hard for you," Ptonomy says. "But if you don't listen to your body, you can't hear when it's warning you about that wall you're about to hit. Some of that's your powers, but mostly I think it's your upbringing." He taps the paper with Syd's thoughts on it. "That silence is part of your mother's abuse. And like any child, you accepted your environment. You internalized it."

"I did," Syd accepts.

"This is bigger than just talking about the things David can hear," Ptonomy continues. "This is about breaking the silence you impose on yourself."

"I'm trying," Syd says.

"I know you are," Ptonomy says. "And you are absolutely making progress. But if you wait until the pressure builds up so much you explode, people are gonna get hurt. That's what happened before, and it's what happened just now."

Syd takes that in. "So I need to-- Engage with my body, my emotions."

"You need to recognize when you're upset before things get so bad you can't ignore it," Ptonomy says. "And you need healthy ways of coping with those feelings. Remember the self-soothing? Have you found anything that helps yet?"

Syd shakes her head. "Things have been--"

"They have," Ptonomy agrees, with feeling. "But this is important. This is what's going to help you protect yourself from everything Farouk's throwing at us. Can you think of anything right now? Think about what's helped you."

Syd thinks back. "I asked for help. Um. Hugs, from-- You and Amy and David."

"That's a great start," Ptonomy says. "That's using touch and closeness. What else?"

"Food," Syd thinks. "Um, the pizza and-- David's cherries."

"Food that gave you comfort growing up, and food that-- Makes you feel loved now," Ptonomy says.

"Yes," Syd breathes, feeling-- A little better, just remembering. And then she feels worse.

"Syd?" Ptonomy prompts.

"I don't want to hurt him," Syd says. "But I did."

"You did," Ptonomy agrees. "So let's talk about that."

Syd feels her whole body tense up and reflexively pushes her emotions down. And she realizes-- That's not just her body defending itself. It's the warning, her body telling her she's about to crash.

"When we walked into the room, I-- Got upset," Syd recalls. "And I wanted to-- Open up, to-- Not deny my feelings. But they were-- Painful."

"For both you and David," Ptonomy says. "Do you think it was a good idea to talk about all that when you'd both had a terrible day?"

"I guess not," Syd says. "But if I'll think it anyway--"

"It's tricky," Ptonomy agrees. "But all relationships have to deal with this, with or without telepathy. You both have a long day and all you want to do is be together, but you still have all those feelings roiling inside you. It's incredibly easy to get stuck in a cycle where you argue instead of getting the comfort you both need."

"So what do I do?" Syd asks.

"The first thing is always to acknowledge your feelings to yourself," Ptonomy says. "That's going to be the foundation of all the healthy behavior you need. Acknowledge your feelings, allow them to happen."

"That's, um-- The emotion journal," Syd remembers.

"I'm putting a copy of that on everyone's tablets," Ptonomy says. "When we're under attack like this, it's vital that we stay in touch with how we feel."

Syd nods. "Then what?"

"Once you acknowledge your feelings, take a breath. Decide how you want to handle them, instead of letting them decide. Write down how you feel. If you're with someone, tell them you're upset and you need comfort, just like you did today."

"I shouldn't-- Talk about it?" Syd asks.

"Not in the moment," Ptonomy advises. "Difficult conversations like that-- If you have them when you're already upset, it's really hard to actually make progress. Acknowledge you're upset and give your body what it needs to feel calm. Then have that conversation when you're both ready for it."

"I guess that makes sense," Syd admits.

"So let's walk through what happened, but think about how to handle it better," Ptonomy says. "You and David went back to your room, and you got upset."

Syd closes her eyes, takes herself back. "I was okay in the elevator," she says. "But when we got to our room-- There were-- Bad memories. And-- Dvd had-- Said things that--"

"He reopened the wound," Ptonomy says. "He was upset and he lashed out, just like you did."

Syd acknowledges the similarities. But then David does feel her and Dvd are the same. That must be part of it.

"I felt raw," Syd continues. "And I knew David knew and--" She pauses, realizing-- "I panicked. I was scared, I-- Pushed him away to-- Protect myself."

"You did," Ptonomy agrees. "When you feel vulnerable, you attack. And you knew right where to hit David to make him hurt."

Syd looks away, ashamed. "What if--"

"Do you think David won't forgive you?" Ptonomy asks.

"I guess he will," Syd realizes. "I just don't know if he should."

"That's you hurting yourself," Ptonomy warns. "And the more hurt you are, the more you lash out. You have to break that cycle. So let's try again. You walk into the room and you feel upset. How do you handle it?"

Syd takes a breath, lets it out. "I acknowledge that-- I'm upset. That being alone with David in that room is-- Upsetting."

"Good," Ptonomy says. "And then?"

"I guess-- I could walk back out," Syd tries. That's what Ptonomy and Amy did, when the lab upset them.

"And what would you tell David?" Ptonomy asks.

Syd pauses, unsure. "If I tell him--"

"Let's try a little roleplay," Ptonomy says. "Pretend I'm David. We're both tired and emotionally wrung out. We get to our room, you lock up. You turn around and walk back into the hall. I follow you. Syd, what's wrong?"

Syd puts herself back in that moment. She imagines walking out instead of deeper in. Not being in the room helps, but she's still upset.

"I can't go in there," she admits. "There's-- Bad memories."

"But we were in there before," Ptonomy says, as David.

"I know," Syd says. "But not-- Alone."

"Oh," Ptonomy says, as David. "Syd, I'm so sorry."

"I know," Syd says. She can so easily imagine his reaction, his expression. The grief and regret--

She needed so much to know how he felt. But forcing him to feel those things, to reopen that wound when it was finally healing--

"I don't want you to leave," Syd continues, wishing she'd said that to David at the start. "But we need to be-- Somewhere else. With someone."

"Syd," Ptonomy says, imitating the pained way David says her name, sometimes.

"Will you-- Hold me?" Syd asks, wishes she'd asked. David could have held her. He was safe.

"Of course," Ptonomy says, as David. He stands and opens his arms, and Syd steps into them, cautiously holds him back.

It helps. It would have helped so much if she'd just--

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says again, as David. Just like he would.

"I know," Syd says. "But I'm not-- Ready to talk about it yet. Can we just-- Hold each other?"

"Of course," Ptonomy says as David, relieved. "I love you."

"I love you too," Syd says, her throat tight. She tightens her hold on Ptonomy, wishing so much that he was David, and then lets go, sits back down. Ptonomy sits, too.

"How did that feel?" Ptonomy asks.

"A lot better," Syd admits.

"Excellent," Ptonomy praises. "I want you to practice that in your head tonight and tomorrow. Keep that in mind when you see David in the morning. It won't be the same. He's going to be upset. But remember the important parts. Acknowledge your feelings to yourself. Decide how to manage your reaction to those feelings. Help yourself feel safe and soothed. Talk about what's wrong when you have a clear head."

Syd wants to write that down, but-- "I left my notebook in my room."

"I'll make a private file for you on your tablet," Ptonomy says. "I'll put that in there. Okay?"

"Thank you," Syd says, for more than just the file.

"You're doing really well, Syd," Ptonomy says. "Change is hard. But it's better, right?"

"It is," Syd agrees.

She wants to go back to David now and fix things right away, but she knows it wouldn't work. He needs time apart and so does she. But they'll try again and they'll learn from their mistakes and get better. She just wants them to get better together.

'I love you,' she thinks to David, with all her might. And she feels-- The brush of David's mind against hers, faint and tentative. It's not much, but-- It feels like a promise. To keep trying. To not give up.

That's all she needs.

Chapter 156: Interlude VI: We're in David's dream. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

Everything was fine when Kerry went to sleep. She had Cary safe inside her and they'd helped the Davids paint their rocket lamp and everyone was okay.

But she wakes up-- Nowhere. In nothing, a blank white nothing with only Cary beside her. He won't wake up when she shakes him, so she tries to find-- Walls, or-- Just anything. But however far she walks it's still nothing. And Cary gets smaller and smaller, and she doesn't want him to disappear, too, so she goes back.

She tries to get Cary to go inside her, so she can take him with her, but that doesn't work either.

She's not even sure there's a floor here, or ground. She tries to dig but when she reaches past her feet there's just more nothing.

She grabs Cary again, shakes him hard. "Cary, you gotta wake up!" she demands. "Cary!"

Cary starts awake, blinking rapidly. "Kerry?"

"Ugh, finally," Kerry moans. "Something happened to the lab or-- To us. I think we were kidnapped."

"Kidnapped!" Cary sits up, alarmed. He looks around and he's even more alarmed. He goes through the same tests Kerry did, trying to find any kind of anything, and fails. "Oh dear," he mutters, eyes wide. "This is not good, this is very not good."

"Yeah, I figured that out," Kerry says. "Where are we?"

"I don't know," Cary admits, but Kerry can see he's thinking hard. "This doesn't appear to be-- Any kind of physical space. We must be-- Somewhere on the astral plane."

"But you said that place was all-- Rocky and glowing," Kerry reminds him. "There’s no rocks."

"Well, that was-- Only one part of it," Cary reasons. "Oliver created his ice cube, and there were— Other spaces. Perhaps-- This is like that. A-- Part of the astral plane but-- Contained."

"I walked," Kerry says. "There's no walls. There's not even a floor."

"It's a mental space," Cary replies. "So theoretically-- We could imagine a floor."

They concentrate. Nothing happens.

"Hmm. We appear to lack the-- Particular mutant abilities necessary to shape astral space."

"So what are we gonna do, just sit here?"

"Well, we are standing," Cary offers, then shakes his head. "We have to-- Reconstruct what happened. Understand our situation so we can change it."

"We went to bed, and then we woke up here," Kerry says. "Do you remember anything else?"

"No," Cary admits. "But we can surmise-- Farouk brought us here."

"Duh," Kerry agrees. "Why? To get us out of the way?"

"Possibly," Cary says. "Or-- To use us as hostages."

"Well forget that," Kerry declares. "I'm nobody's hostage. We gotta bust outta here."

Cary looks around them, at a loss. "If this is-- Some sort of holding cell--" He frowns, deep in thought, and reaches at the nothing around them. "If this were a physical location, there would have to be some kind of access point, otherwise we couldn't have been brought here in the first place. Could there be a-- Mental equivalent?"

"Something invisible?" Kerry suggests.

"The functioning of mental spaces is-- Clearly very different from the physical world," Cary says. "It might not be something as straightforward as a door. It could be-- Some other physical or-- Mental property--"

Cary's frown deepens as he focuses intensely on the problem. Kerry waits a minute, then gets bored and starts walking around again. She doesn't like keeping still, especially when they're in danger. But she thinks about the problem, too. She thinks about the Davids and their projections, about telepathy and notebooks stored in thin air.

And then she hears something. No-- Feels something. Or it's like-- A feeling and a sound all at once.

"Cary?" she calls. "There's something here."

Cary steps over. "Here?" He listens. "Oh! Fascinating. Some sort of-- Vibration? Or resonance?" He shifts to the left, to the right. "I think-- It's stronger this way."

Kerry follows him, feeling for the sensation. And then suddenly the not-floor slopes downward.

"Kerry!" Cary says, concerned, and reaches for her.

She takes his hand and holds it firmly. "We gotta stick together," she tells him.

Cary offers her a smile, and Kerry smiles back.

They walk on, and there's no way to tell how far down they go when they’re surrounded by nothing. But the sensation keeps getting louder, or stronger, or both. And then suddenly--

"A door?" Cary says, surprised.

"That's our door," Kerry realizes. "The door to the lab."

They look at each other, then Kerry opens it. They step inside.

"David," Kerry says, relieved, and she's already halfway to him before she realizes-- He's younger, almost her age. "David?"

He doesn't respond to her. She slows, cautious. David's young and-- He looks kinda sick. He's all bundled up on the sofa and-- He's really sad. There are bandages on both his arms.

"David?" Cary calls, worried. "Can you hear us? Where are we? David?"

Cary sits down beside David on the sofa and touches him, and David startles. He looks around as if he can't see Cary at all. And then the lab door opens, and--

"You!" Kerry says, bracing for a fight.

Farouk doesn't notice her. He carries over a tray of food and sits beside David on the sofa. David perks up, relaxes, and shifts close to him. He gives Farouk an earnest, needing look.

"Hungry, joonam?" Farouk asks.

"A little," David admits. "But mostly-- I missed you."

"I was barely gone at all," Farouk chides, but he seems happy to see David, too.

Farouk opens his arms and David curls up in his embrace, and sighs, content. Farouk pets David's back, his arm, kisses his head. David snuggles closer.

"Gross," Kerry says, grimacing. "What the hell?"

"I have no idea," Cary says, bewildered. "Could this be-- Some kind of-- Dream? Oh!" His eyes go wide, and Kerry knows he's figured out something important. "We're in David's dream."

"We're in his head?" Kerry asks, uncertain. "Why the heck is he dreaming that?"

"We knew Farouk was invading his dreams," Cary says. "But I can't say I expected anything like this."

Kerry marches over to Farouk, judges her target, and then punches Farouk in the face. Her hand goes through him. She grimaces and pulls free. Then she pokes at Farouk's head, to the same effect.

"Perhaps he's a mental construct," Cary offers.

"But you touched David," Kerry says. "He felt it."

Cary reaches out and touches David's leg. David frowns and looks down at his leg, then rests his head back on Farouk's shoulder.

"David is real," Cary decides. "Farouk isn't. So this must simply be-- What David is dreaming of now."

"Farouk's not making him?" Kerry asks.

"It's possible, but-- I don't think so," Cary says. "Perhaps this is-- Something he experiences in the dreams Farouk creates. We often dream of things we've experienced before. Our mind uses sleep to-- Process memories, emotions."

"I thought David wasn't supposed to remember his dreams," Kerry says. "And why's he young?"

"We can be any age in dreams," Cary says. "I often-- Dream we're still the same age." He gives Kerry a shy look.

"I don't wanna be old," Kerry pouts.

"You weren't old, I was--" Cary shakes his head. "We need to focus. We need to get David to hear us so he can tell Oliver."

"But he's wearing the sleep inducer," Kerry says. "He won't remember when he wakes up."

Cary frowns. "You're right. But perhaps-- He can help us from inside the dream. He is very powerful, even with the crown."

Kerry looks around the lab. There's no one else here. "Shouldn't Dvd and Divad be here?"

"I don't know," Cary admits. "We usually dream separately. Perhaps it's the same for them."

"Because we're both systems," Kerry presses. Just because all this crazy stuff is happening, that doesn't mean she's gonna let Cary pretend they're not a system.

"Perhaps," Cary sighs. He reaches out and rests his hand on David's arm. "David? David, can you hear me? It's Cary and Kerry."

David reacts again, but not the way they hoped. He sits up, grabbing at Farouk. "Amahl, something's-- Something's wrong." He looks around, wild-eyed.

"What's wrong, joonam?" Farouk asks, concerned.

"I don't know," David says, voice shaky. "Something's here, something's--"

"The monster is gone," Farouk assures him. "It can't hurt you anymore. Your mind is still unsteady."

"I know," David says, but he still looks worried.

"Farouk is the monster," Kerry tells David. "That's the monster right there!" She looks at Cary. "Why doesn't he know that?"

Cary frowns, then stands up, walks around. "Look, the beds are different. The rocket lamp is gone." He looks out the window. "And we're on the wrong floor."

Kerry looks out the window, too. They're really high up. "Why's David dreaming it wrong?"

Cary turns and stares. "Oh my god. Melanie?"

Melanie's suddenly sitting in the loveseat. "The monster's gone," she assures David. "If it was inside you, I would hear it. There's no one inside you but David."

Apparently that's what David needed to hear. He slumps, relieved. "I don't want to see it again," he says, giving them a pleading look.

"When you are my key, the nightmares will stop," Farouk promises. "All the pain will be gone. We will be whole together."

"Why did you leave?" David asks, hurt. "Why don't you want me anymore?"

"Of course I want you," Farouk soothes.

"But you left," David whines. "You promised you'd never leave me alone! And you just-- You're gone and--" He starts crying. "And Melanie's gone and Syd's--" He breaks down.

"Shh, shh," Farouk soothes, hugging him. "My beautiful boy. My son. You know I love you."

"Dad," David sobs, clinging.

"This is messed up," Kerry says, repulsed.

"Perhaps it's a nightmare, not a dream," Cary offers, but he doesn't seem convinced.

David settles in Farouk's embrace, calming, and then--

Suddenly everything changes. They're not in the lab anymore, they're in--

"David's house?" Kerry asks. She remember it from last year. But it's not empty like it was then. It's dark, night-time, but there's furniture, jackets and shoes by the door. The windows are open, letting in warm summer air, and crickets chirp outside.

They walk deeper in.

"David must be here somewhere," Cary whispers. "Let's try upstairs."

They walk up the stairs, and see a familiar light coming out of David's bedroom. The rocket lamp. And then they hear a growling.

They walk inside, and--

"Dear god," Cary breathes.

David's a child here, and there's two more of him. Divad and Dvd, except-- They're grinning darkly as they pin David down. And the growling is coming from King.

"David's dog," Cary says.

"Farouk again," Kerry says, unhappy. She'd kick that dog right out the window if she could only touch it.

In the bed, David is terrified, trying to squirm free of Divad and Dvd. King leaps up onto the bed, teeth bared, slobber dripping from his mouth, eyes malevolent. King snarls, barks, and then bites. David screams in agony but Divad and Dvd only laugh as King rips into him, as David's blood soaks the sheets.

"This is awful," Kerry says, distraught. "Cary, we have to stop it!"

"We can't stop the mental constructs," Cary says. "But perhaps-- We can interrupt the dream?"

Kerry reaches past King and Dvd and Divad, and pulls David into her arms. He goes stiff, shocked, and she picks him up and carries him out of the room. Cary hurries after her. David clings to her and sobs in her arms.

"You're gonna be okay," Kerry tells David. "You're gonna wake up and you're gonna forget and you'll be okay."

She stumbles as David vanishes. She looks down at her empty, bloody arms. She looks back at Cary, and then--

They're in a-- Police station? "Cary?" Kerry says, confused.

"Let's find David," Cary says, determined. They walk past the front desk and through the station, and they see police officers working but no David of any age. They head to the holding cells and hear-- David?

No, Divad.

"Useless," Divad sneers. "You little piece of shit. Dad and Amy should leave you here to rot. You're worthless garbage and it's past time they threw you out."

"Divad!" Cary chides, but of course Divad doesn't hear them. It's not Divad at all.

They find the Davids in a cell. David's a teenager now, and curled up on the bunk in a familiar, defensive position. No one's physically attacking him, but he's got bruises all over, a black eye, and his lip is split, bleeding. He looks like he was on the losing side of a nasty fight.

"Kill yourself," Dvd snarls, furious. "Save them the trouble and kill yourself!"

"I'm sorry," David sobs, broken. "I tried."

"You're not trying hard enough!" Divad yells. "So what if they took your shoelaces! Those cops beat you up, you think they're gonna care if you smash your head open? You'll be doing them a favor."

"Let's smash it for him," Dvd says, and grins.

"Nobody's smashing David!" Kerry says, and grabs him again. He's not small enough to hold in her arms now, but she hauls him up anyway. She tries to drag David out of the cell, but he won't pass through the bars.

"You think you can escape?" Divad sneers. "What are you gonna do? They find out you're a mutant, you're done. They'll do experiments on you. They'll take out your organs and leave you hooked up to machines. They'll slice up your brain while you're still awake!"

"Please stop," David begs, incoherent. He claws at the bars, desperate. "Help me! Please! Someone help!"

A police officer walks in. He's not happy. "What is it now?"

"Please, they're hurting me, please!"

The officer stares, unimpressed. "You're crazy. There's no one in there. Now sit down and shut up before I shut you up myself. Nutcase." He huffs, annoyed, and walks out again, closing the heavy door with a slam.

David falls to the ground, weeping, and then--

They're in a college dorm hallway. Closed doors stretch in either direction.

"Why are Divad and Dvd hurting him?" Kerry asks, upset. "Did they really do that?"

"No," Cary says, quietly. "No, I don't believe they did. They made mistakes, but this is-- Monstrous."

"It's Farouk," Kerry insists, knowing it. "He's making them do it."

"Perhaps I was wrong and he is controlling David's dreams," Cary offers. "These nightmares are-- They're simply awful."

"I'm glad he won't remember them," Kerry says. "But how are we gonna get him to help us if he's being tortured all the time?"

"The first dream wasn't a nightmare," Cary says. "Well, probably. Statistically at least-- Some of his dreams should be calm."

"Maybe this one?" Kerry asks. She looks through the nearest door, but there's nothing on the other side. She moves back into the hall. "College was mostly okay for him, right?"

"Farouk did largely leave them alone," Cary says. "But David was-- I'm not sure what we'll find."

They exchange worried glances, and then determined ones.

It takes a few tries, but they find the right door. And stop.

Divad and Dvd aren't hurting David this time. They're relaxed, content. Divad is studying at a desk and Dvd is tossing a rubber ball against the wall, catching it and tossing it. But David--

David is in the bed, cradled in the arms of the Devil with the Yellow Eyes. David is weak, pale and thin, and the Devil is feeding on him like a bloated tick.

Kerry's eyes prick with tears, and she just-- Walks out. Rubs the heels of her hands against her closed eyes.

And then the dream ends and they're outside the lab door again. Kerry turns to Cary and sees his solemn expression, and doesn't ask.

They brace themselves and walk through. It's nighttime now, and everything's calm. No Divad and Dvd, no monster. They walk over to the beds and find Melanie asleep in one, and David and Farouk curled up together in the other.

"Creepy," Kerry mutters. She grabs David's shoulder and shakes him. He stirs, confused.

"David?" Kerry calls. "C'mon, you gotta see us. Cary's right here. We need your help."

David frowns, like he can hear something but he can't figure out what it is. And then the lab door opens and a figure walks in.

"Syd?" Cary says, surprised, just as David does.

Syd puts her finger over her lips. She walks up to David. Kerry steps back so Syd's not standing through her. David starts to sit up, but Syd pushes him back down. Farouk stirs and puts his arm around him again, pulls him close. And then--

"Oh my," Cary says, embarrassed. He tries to cover Kerry's eyes, but she bats him away.

"So this is a sex dream, huh?" Kerry says, as Syd takes off the last of her clothes. She pulls away the blanket, and suddenly David is naked. At least Farouk's still in pajamas.

"Perhaps we should leave," Cary says.

"We're not leaving David alone," Kerry insists. She watches in fascinated horror as Syd and Farouk both start touching David all over and--

"We really should leave," Cary insists, and pulls her away.

Kerry lets him pull her to the lab door, but then gets free. "This is just another nightmare. We need to interrupt it."

Cary's gone beet red. Kerry rolls her eyes and marches back. David and Syd are really going at it now, and Farouk is all over David. Kerry hesitates, then grabs David's ankle and hauls him right out of the bed and onto the floor.

David yelps and looks up, bruised and bewildered. On the bed, Syd and Farouk start having sex with each other, as if David was never there in the first place.

Kerry pats David on the cheek. "Hey! Dummy! We need your help!"

"What?" David gasps, confused. "Who's there?"

"David, we're trapped in your dreams," Cary says. He's still red but he grabs David's hand and pulls him up. "It's Cary."

David strains, listening. He blinks and rubs his eyes, and then-- He focuses on them. He yelps and stumbles back, trying to cover himself.

Kerry grabs the blanket from the floor and offers it to him. David takes it and wraps it around himself. Farouk and Syd are gone, and so is Melanie.

"Who the hell are you?" David exclaims.

"You don't know us?" Cary asks.

"Of course not!" David huffs. "You're not supposed to be here. You'll ruin Amahl's work!"

"Screw that asshole," Kerry says, annoyed. "He kidnapped us and put us in your head!"

"Kerry!" Cary says, scandalized.

"Well he's an asshole," Kerry says. It's just a fact. "And stop treating me like a little kid. I'm the same age as you."

"I know," Cary says, but isn't pleased about it.

"I'm the outside one now," Kerry reminds him. "I'm the one who keeps you safe. You're not in charge of me."

"Please, let's-- Focus on David," Cary says. "David, we need your help. We're-- We're friends of Melanie."

That makes David pause. "Melanie?"

"Yes," Cary says, relieved. "We're her friends and-- Something happened to us. We're-- We're trapped on the astral plane."

David gives them a wary look. "Are you--" Then he lowers his voice. "Are you mutants?"

"We are," Cary agrees. "Just like you."

"I'm not a mutant," David insists. "Melanie's a mutant."

"Melanie's not--" Cary starts, then shakes his head. "David, you are a mutant. You're a mind reader, you have--"

David shakes his head. "No, it was the monster. It was just the monster. They're his powers, not mine."

"Farouk's?" Kerry asks.

David just gives her a baffled look.

"Oh dear," Cary sighs.

"How are we gonna get him to help us if he doesn't know he's got powers?" Kerry asks.

"Perhaps if we-- No, he won't remember." Cary frowns, frustrated. He pinches his face.

"Look, I don't know who you are," David says. "But I know you don't belong here. I think you should leave."

"David," Kerry pleads.

"You should leave," David says, firmly, and then--

They're back in the white nothing.

Kerry groans. "Now what?"

"We have to keep trying," Cary insists. "Perhaps-- When he's awake. We just need him to tell someone that we're here. Then Oliver can find us and--"

"And what?" Kerry asks.

"If we're here-- Then where's our body?" Cary asks, worried.

"I guess it's empty?" Kerry says, but doesn't like it. She shivers. "We're like-- Oliver and Melanie."

"David was trapped on the astral plane for a while as well," Cary says. "As long as we get back to it soon, there should be no harm done. And if it takes longer than that-- I'm sure Division 3 will freeze it for us."

"I don't wanna be frozen," Kerry says. "David was weird."

"He was acting very strangely, even for a dream," Cary admits. His eyes go wide. "Oh! Kerry!"

"What?"

"He remembered Divad and Dvd," Cary says, excited. "David remembered growing up with his headmates. And knowing King was the monster. And in the cell, he remembered being a mutant. That shouldn't be possible. Those memories are gone."

"Maybe he's just dream-remembering?" Kerry says. "He knows about them now."

"That's true," Cary accepts. "But we know Farouk has David's real memories. What if he's somehow-- Giving them back-- But only in his dreams?"

"Why?" Kerry asks.

"I don't know," Cary shrugs. "But maybe-- It has something to do with why he's the wrong age. All this-- Farouk and Melanie and-- And Syd business. There was that-- Disturbing vision that Farouk sent Divad and Dvd. David was college-age in that, too."

"David killed himself in that," Kerry says. It sounded awful. But it would fit right in with all these other nightmares. Her eyes go wide. "David had bandages on his arms in the first dream."

"He did," Cary agrees, solemn. "I think-- We should go back. Into the dreams."

"But he's not gonna help us," Kerry says.

"No," Cary says. "But we need to know more. Let's just-- Watch, this time. Learn what we can."

"I can't let David get tortured, even if he's being stupid," Kerry declares.

"I don't think we have much choice," Cary sighs. "David won't remember, but we will. And I think we should."

"It's gonna suck," Kerry says, unhappy.

"Yes," Cary agrees. "But we'll-- We'll face it together."

"We will," Kerry agrees, and feels a little better. "Sorry I yelled at you."

"You were right," Cary says. "I'm sorry I was-- Overprotective."

"A little protection's okay," Kerry says. "But I don't hide anymore, Cary. I won't. Even if it's gross and weird and scary."

Cary hugs her. She hugs him back.

"I'm so proud of you," Cary says, and pulls back. "Come on. Let's find that resonance again." He looks around at the white nothing, stretching in every direction. "It must be around here somewhere."

Hand in hand, they start their search.

Chapter 157: Day 14: Melanie's body is missing. (Divad)

Chapter Text

"Divad. Divad, wake up."

Divad opens his eyes to see Doctor Orwell leaning over him.

"There's been a development," Doctor Orwell says, serious. "Melanie's body is missing."

Divad’s instantly wide awake. "How long?"

"Just a few minutes," Doctor Orwell says. "The Admiral spotted it right away." She goes over to Syd and turns off her sleep inducer, starts waking her up.

When Syd gets the news, she opens her eyes wide. She sits up and then-- Sees Divad.

There's always a moment when she looks at him or Dvd like they’re David, needing him, and then— She realizes.

Divad tries not to take it personally.

Syd looks past him to the body in the next cot. His system's body. Divad gets up and lies down into it. He stayed up late going over the soul data, and it feels like their body could have used a few more hours of sleep, too. Their whole system could have done with a full night's rest together inside their body.

But Farouk never passes up a chance to hurt them.

Doctor Orwell goes to wake the rest of the research team and Divad stands up, stretches. He rubs their face and looks at the security feeds. Melanie's body is gone, but so far there's no sign of her anywhere.

Syd's still staring at him. But before Divad can talk to her, Clark and Ptonomy and Amy walk in. Clark also looks like he could use a few more hours of sleep.

"Should I get David and Dvd?" Divad asks them.

"How are they?" Amy asks.

Divad reaches out. He checked on the infirmary before finally going to sleep, and found David and Dvd curled up together in one bed. It made it a lot easier for Divad to rest, seeing them comforting each other. He used to be painfully jealous of that, and he still is, but-- He feels like they would have squeezed him into that bed, too, if he'd asked.

He didn't ask. He didn't want to disturb them. He doesn't want to disturb them now.

"We should let them sleep, if we can," Divad says.

"That depends on how fast Farouk can deploy Melanie," Clark says.

"Reanimation’s supposed to be a gradual process," Ptonomy says. "But Oliver thawed himself out-- Pretty much instantly, after he got back to his body."

"Then Farouk isn't waiting because he has to," Clark says. "No surprise attack?"

"He wants us to know," Ptonomy says.

"Which Melanie is he going to use?" Clark asks. "Bird or Farouk?"

"Melanie Farouk," Divad says, certain.

"Agreed," Ptonomy sighs. "This is about manipulating Past David. We've taken a lot of ground. Farouk wants to take it back."

"He heard you planning to rescue Melanie," Clark points out. "This is a diversion to keep us from figuring out how to get past his defenses."

"It's an effective one," Ptonomy admits.

"We still don't know-- How much of Melanie Farouk is actually Melanie," Syd says.

"I have a feeling we're about to find out," Ptonomy says. "Let's assume the worst. He changed her memories, made her think she's a mutant, somehow. We need to know what powers she has."

"Telepathy and telekinesis," Divad says. "Based on-- What Past David is relieved about, without her here. She was reading his mind, in the dreams. And she was somehow-- Stopping him from hurting himself."

"Farouk likes to use what's already there," Ptonomy says. "So-- Oliver's powers?"

"That fits," Divad mulls. "Except she doesn't actually have any powers."

"Past David thought he didn't have powers but he does," Amy points out. "Maybe she’ll be the reverse?"

"Maybe," Ptonomy says, but he doesn't seem convinced.

"How do we get her back?" Syd asks. "If she thinks she's-- Melanie Farouk--"

"That depends on what Farouk does to her body," Ptonomy says, with dread. "If he rips out her memories, it's the same situation we faced with David. But if the embodied memories are intact, it'll be like Oliver and Lenny."

"So she'll remember her actual life," Syd presses.

"Eventually," Ptonomy agrees. "But it's going to be-- Very confusing for her. She'll need a lot of help."

"She'll fit right in," Clark drawls. "We need to know more. I’ll continue my interrogation, get more of the story?"

"Agreed," Ptonomy sighs. "And we need to fix Oliver. Syd, that means you."

"I’m ready," Syd says, determined.

"We still need to wake him up," Divad points out. He turns. "Doctor Orwell, how’s Oliver?"

Doctor Orwell walks over. "He’s looking much better. I was planning on bringing him out of the medical coma this morning."

"Let’s get started," Ptonomy says. "Oliver’s our best shot at reaching Melanie. Even if Farouk rips out her memories, on some level she’ll remember him. Just like David remembered Dvd."

The research team starts preparing the room. Syd stays with them while Doctor Orwell leads the rest of them to the infirmary. Lenny’s on watch and greets them; Dvd wakes up from the noise, and then David.

"What’s going on?" David asks, bleary.

Divad wants to tell him everything’s okay, but— "We’re waking Oliver up. Farouk— Took Melanie’s body."

Dvd and David immediately react. Lenny doesn’t, but she must have already got all that from the mainframe.

"God, now what?" David groans, distressed. ‘We have to stop him. We have to.’

Shit beetle,’ Dvd thinks, furious. He shifts closer to David, protective, and looks warily around them.

"There’s no sign of her yet," Divad says. "But we have to get ready. We’re gonna try to fix Oliver."

Both of them look over at Oliver. Divad can feel David’s hope, his need. He needed Oliver all day yesterday. Farouk must have noticed that.

David turns to him, uncertain. "You think he wants us to fix Oliver?"

"All we can do is guess," Divad admits. "But I don’t think this is about Oliver. It’s not even about us. It’s about him." He gestures at Past David, still deeply asleep.

‘Then I’m not his target?’ David thinks. ‘Except I am.’ He looks longingly at Past David. ‘If I could just— Talk to him. Explain— But I wouldn’t— He wouldn’t believe me.‘ He looks away, frustrated. He gets off the bed and his pajamas vanish, replaced with the outfit their body wore yesterday.

"If Oliver’s waking up, I’m gonna be there," Lenny insist, standing up. "Ames, you got this?"

"Of course," Amy says. She takes the seat Lenny left.

They head back to the lab. When David sees Syd, he locks up and almost walks back out. Syd notices, of course, and looks hurt, ashamed.

Last night was a mess. If it wasn’t for Ptonomy, it might have been a disaster. But they have to let David and Syd work their way back to each other, messes and all.

That doesn’t mean David’s headmates won’t be there for him.

‘I’m here,’ Dvd soothes, standing close to David again. Divad can feel the love pouring off him. It’s meant for David but Divad feels it, too. And David loves him back, grateful and relieved.

They’re getting so close. Like they were before but— A better version of it. Healthier.

He looks over at Syd and sees— Longing, regret, jealousy. He knows exactly how she feels.

"It may take some time for Oliver to wake up," Doctor Orwell cautions. "The sedative will wear off quickly, but Oliver does have a mild concussion."

"Davids, Syd," Ptonomy says. "How about we go to the cafeteria, get you guys some breakfast?"

Syd and David both look wary at the suggestion. Dvd definitely doesn’t like it. But Divad does.

‘I think it’s a good idea,’ he tells his headmates. ‘Ptonomy can keep things from getting messy again.’

‘Maybe we don’t need her at all,’ Dvd mutters.

‘We do if we want to share our body again,’ Divad warns.

‘David remembers us,’ Dvd thinks. ‘We should only rely on our system for sharing. What if we can?’ He looks to David, hopeful.

‘Maybe,’ David allows. ‘But I don’t— I’m not ready for that. And— I don’t want to lose her.’ He gives Syd a hopeful look, and Syd sees it.

She musters a tiny smile.

"I’ll stay with Oliver," Lenny says. "You kids go talk."

It’s early enough that the cafeteria boats are still carrying late night snacks, so they put in their breakfast orders and grab a table. Syd and Divad both get tea. Divad holds his mug close, breathing in the steam, warming their hands.

"We're going to start off with a check-in," Ptonomy tells them. "Everyone has copies of the emotion worksheet and emotion wheel. I'd like each of you to do the worksheet now."

Divad opens his notebook. There's a lot going on already this morning, and everything from last night, and yesterday-- He takes a breath and tries to focus on the present, on how he feels in this moment.

When he's done, he puts down his pen and waits as everyone else finishes.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, pleased. "David, I'd like you to go first. How are you feeling?"

"Um, scared, angry, violated, worried," David starts.

"Is any of that Past David's, or is it all yours?" Ptonomy asks.

"Mostly just mine," David says. "This is-- Easier while he's asleep."

"I thought it might be," Ptonomy says. "What are you scared of?"

David visibly braces himself. "Um, where to start?" He flashes an unhappy smile. "Obviously I'm-- Scared of Farouk. What he's planning. Melanie. I'm scared that-- I won't be able to stop him or-- Myself. When he gives me-- Whatever insane choice he wants me to make."

"You feel like you won't be able to say no?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't," David admits. "If it's something I-- Need. He knows what I need."

"He does," Ptonomy accepts. "But so do we. That means we can manage those needs, keep control over them. We need to eat, but we choose what we eat, and when and how we eat. Right?"

"Right," David accepts.

"So when that moment comes, no matter how much you need to say yes, remember that there's a lot of ways to handle that yes. It's not all or nothing. Even if you say yes, you're still in control."

David lets out a sharp breath. 'I want to believe that.' "Okay," he says.

"What else are you feeling those emotions about?" Ptonomy asks.

David immediately glances at Syd, and then away from her. "Last night," he admits. "I know Syd's trying to be better, but--" He swallows, looks at her again. Hesitates.

"How do you feel about Syd?" Ptonomy asks.

"Ashamed," David starts, looking down at his emotion wheel. "Hurt, disappointed, angry. Rejected. Worthless."

"Syd hurt you," Ptonomy says, sympathetic. "But you handled it really well. You said no and you went somewhere safe. You should be proud of that, David."

"I don't feel proud," David admits. "I feel like-- I should have-- If I'd just--" He shakes his head. "I don't know."

"You feel like it's your responsibility to make Syd happy," Ptonomy offers. "Even if it hurts you."

"Yes," David says, firmly.

"You're not responsible for her happiness," Ptonomy says. "She is. That's part of maintaining healthy boundaries. We're each responsible for our own feelings, no matter what someone else does. I know that's hard to accept, but you're getting there. If you weren't, you would have let Syd show you that video."

David looks vaguely ill. "I don't want to see it."

"You don't have to," Ptonomy says. "You have the right to say no and you used that right. And Syd respected that. She made a mistake, you said no, and she respected your boundaries."

'She did,' David thinks, and looks at Syd again. She looks back at him, quietly hopeful.

"Dvd," Ptonomy says. "How are you feeling?"

Dvd looks down at his notebook. "Angry, worried. And-- Relieved. Thankful. Excited."

"And what's behind those feelings?" Ptonomy prompts.

"We all shared together," Dvd says, proudly. "David remembers us. We got him back." He beams at David, and David musters a smile back.

"Your system made fantastic progress yesterday," Ptonomy agrees. "You made your foundation together and you shared your body together. And I've noticed the three of you speaking privately, making decisions as a system."

"Yeah," Dvd agrees. "Healthy multiplicity, right?" He looks to Divad and David, obviously seeking their approval.

"Healthy multiplicity," Divad agrees, pleased. David's smile is stronger this time.

"So even though you're facing a lot of challenges," Ptonomy continues, "you're feeling a lot of positive feelings. More positive than negative."

Dvd considers that. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, David's always-- Our system's always mattered more to me than anything else." He gives Divad an apologetic glance. "Obviously I still want to turn the shit beetle to dust."

"Of course," Ptonomy agrees. "And that anger is justified and healthy. But it's not drowning out everything else. You're allowing yourself to feel other emotions, to have new experiences, new relationships."

Dvd glances at Syd. "Yeah, I guess."

"And you like the way your system works now better than the way it used to work," Ptonomy says.

"Yeah," Dvd says, more certain now. "This is better."

"I'm very glad to hear that," Ptonomy praises. He turns to Divad. "Divad? Tell us what you're feeling."

Divad looks down at his notebook, braces himself. "Worried, of course," he starts. "Angry at Farouk, at myself. Frustrated that we-- Couldn't keep David safe, again. Humiliated, helpless, vulnerable, weak. All this-- I thought I knew how to keep us safe in college. I thought I had the answer. And Farouk--" He stops, throat tight, then struggles on. "No matter what we do, he rips us apart."

Dvd made everyone feel better, but Divad feels how he makes them worse. And he hates that, he hates that's what he does. He did it to David for so long and he doesn't want to be that way anymore.

"And I feel lonely and--" Divad continues, struggling not to cry. "Jealous and-- Overwhelmed-- But it's-- I don't feel able to--" He looks at Dvd and David, feeling so many things and unable to stop them. He wants to stop them so much. It would be so easy, with his powers it would be so easy--

"Don't," Dvd warns him. "Don't turn yourself off."

"I should," Divad says, tightly. "If I'm upset, Farouk will use that. He'll use me to hurt David again and I don't--"

"We're not gonna let him," Dvd promises. "If you're upset-- Then you let us help. You're our headmate, and-- We share our life with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. Right?"

Divad sniffs. "Right," he agrees, feeling a tiny bit better.

"You were supposed to be with us last night," Dvd says, and Divad can feel that he means it. "We had to stay out of our body, not away from each other."

"I know," Divad says. "But you were together and-- I didn't feel like--" He knows it wasn't a rational decision. But he was--

He's afraid that-- Now that they have each other, they won't need him.

"That's bullshit," Dvd says. "We're a system. We belong together. You're my headmate and I love you, you moron."

Divad stares, speechless.

"Yeah, I said it," Dvd says, thought Divad can feel Dvd's own surprise at himself. "I love our system, I love David, and I love you," he says, defiant against his own tumult of feelings.

"Dvd," Divad says, softly.

Dvd looks away, visibly overwhelmed. David sees and takes his hand, sends love to him the way Dvd has sent love to David. And then David looks to Divad and sends love to him, too.

"David," Divad says, softly.

"I just got you back," David tells him, with quiet feeling. "Please."

Divad can't say no to that. He lets David's love soothe him, and cautiously reaches back, offering his own love to David, to Dvd. Afraid it will be rejected, but--

And then the three of them are all-- Loving each other, and it's tentative and new and Divad feels so vulnerable, loving them, being loved by them. But it's a balm, soothing away his fears, soothing theirs.

They share their life with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. With love.

And then the feeling fades, not disappearing but easing back to something-- Stable. Steady. Their love for each other, for their system, all its parts and its messy whole.

"Davids?" Ptonomy prompts.

"We're okay," Divad says, calmer now. Not numb the way his powers made him, but-- Like if he lets go, he won't fall because-- They'll hold him up. "We, um-- Shared our love for each other. For our system."

Ptonomy's eyebrows rise. "That must have been very powerful."

"Yeah," Divad says, and can't stop the smile tugging at his lips. Dvd and David quirk smiles, too.

"So how do you feel now?" Ptonomy asks.

Divad checks in with himself. "Still afraid of Farouk and-- Angry at myself," he admits. "But I shouldn't have slept away from my headmates. I'm sorry. Maybe we can-- Share our body again, while we're awake?"

"I'd like that," David says, warmly.

Divad's so grateful that they got David back, that-- They did the work to get here. He feels what Dvd felt: relieved, thankful, excited for-- The life they're going to make together. He feels Dvd feeling that again, and then their whole system feels it together.

Love. Hope. Belonging.

Harmony.

The feelings fade again, but that steady love feels a little stronger.

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "Syd, tell us what you're feeling."

Syd hesitates, then visibly braces herself. "Regret," she starts. "I feel-- Ashamed. Frustrated that-- It was so easy to-- Fall back into-- Old habits."

"It takes time to break old habits and make new ones," Ptonomy says. "What's important is catching yourself when you slip, and with David's help you did. Did you do the homework I gave you?"

"Yes," Syd says. "When I'm upset, I'll-- Acknowledge my feelings to myself. I'll decide how to manage my reactions and I'll help myself feel safe and soothed. And when-- There's a better time-- We'll talk about what's wrong."

"Very good," Ptonomy praises. "Davids, this is good advice for you, too. Why don't you write it down?"

They do, briefly conferring before adding it to the relationship advice.

"Where are you in all that now?" Ptonomy asks Syd.

Syd looks at David, vulnerable, needing. "David, I'm sorry. Being in that room, alone with you-- It brought up feelings I wasn't ready for. It was painful and scary and-- Instead of-- Managing that, I tried to-- Make you hurt as much as I did. That was wrong."

They heard Syd practice those words in her thoughts, but it means more seeing her say them aloud. It definitely means more to David. Divad can feel the love and forgiveness welling up in David, ready to spill out.

But they don't yet. David's still wary.

"I'm sorry about the video," Syd continues. "And the things I said. We did need to talk but-- That wasn't the time."

"No," David agrees. He struggles for words. "Syd, I-- If being with me-- Hurts you--"

"It does, sometimes," Syd admits. "But I don't want to lose the good things, David. I want us to have-- A real future together, like you and your headmates." She gives a brittle smile. "I'm-- Jealous of what you're building together. And I feel-- Alone and-- Afraid that-- All I'll do is hurt you."

Syd waits as David takes that in.

"I want us to be able to talk," David tries. "I want us to be able to-- Be upset without-- Everything going wrong."

"I want that, too," Syd says.

"I hate having to say no to you," David admits. "I feel awful."

"I know," Syd says. "I'm sorry I put you in that position. But I'm glad you said no. I want you to always be able to say no to me, David. If you let me hurt you-- That'll hurt both of us."

"I know," David sighs, unhappy.

There's an uncomfortable silence.

"Change is hard," Ptonomy tells them. "Changing patterns of behavior, for ourselves and our relationships-- That's extremely difficult at the best of times. Those old patterns feel safe, even when they hurt us. But every step we take away from them is a step towards something better."

"You need a foundation," Divad realizes. "Like we have for our system. Something for you and David together."

"That's a good idea, Divad," Ptonomy says, pleased. "How about we do a little brainstorming, see what we can come up with?"

"Um, okay," Syd says, wary but not displeased.

"Yeah," David says, warming to it. "Let's make one."

"Let's think about what you want your relationship to be," Ptonomy says. "David, you already had a suggestion?"

"Yes," David realizes. "I want us to be able to talk to each other. To share how we feel and-- Have that be okay."

"I want that, too," Syd agrees, quietly. "So, um-- How about-- To feel safe sharing our feelings?"

David considers that. "Yeah, I like that." He flips to a new page and writes it, and so does Syd. "Your turn."

"I don't want us to hurt each other," Syd says. "I don't want us to-- Use each other."

"No," David agrees, softly, and writes.

There's another uncomfortable silence.

Divad can't feel Syd's feelings, and she's not forming any coherent thoughts for them to hear, but he can feel David's worry, his reflexive guilt rising up, just like it did last night. Syd's not upset now, not the way she was last night, but there's something--

'Ask her,' Divad thinks to David.

"Syd?" David prompts.

Syd meets David's eyes, then looks down, then back to him. "I-- When I think about-- What we had before-- I wonder--" She pauses. "So much of what we had was-- Toxic. Abusive, self-abusive-- What if there's not enough good-- To save?"

David's hurt. "Do you really think that?"

Syd doesn't respond.

"Bullshit," Dvd declares. "Chicken."

Syd startles. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Dvd says. "You need David just as much as I do, but you're afraid."

"I'm afraid of hurting us both," Syd says.

"You're scared of being healthy," Dvd insists. "You're scared of having to open up and be vulnerable all the time, of living with someone who's gonna always call you out on your toxic bullshit."

"And that's you?" Syd asks, evenly.

"That's all of us," Dvd says. "You wanna be with us, you gotta change, and that's what scares you."

"He's right," Divad agrees. "David stood up to you even without our help. There's a part of you that's angry about that, so you're trying to punish him again. We're not gonna let you do that."

Ptonomy looks impressed. "Syd?" he asks. "Is that true?"

Syd hesitates, starts to speak and stops. "Yes," she admits, reluctantly. "I didn't--"

"It wasn't conscious," Ptonomy accepts.

Syd shakes her head.

"That scares you too, not being able to control yourself," Ptonomy continues.

"Yes," Syd says, tightly.

"You accepted a lot of bad ideas, growing up," Ptonomy says. "But you're doing what you need to beat them. You're engaging with your emotions and recognizing bad behaviors, and when you recognize them you stop. And you're accepting help with all of that."

Syd gives Dvd and Divad a vulnerable look, and then turns it on David. "I'm sorry," she tells them.

"You should do the opposite," Divad tells her. "Whatever that gut feeling is you get that makes you lash out? Just do the opposite. If it's critical, be kind. If it tells you to pull away, get closer. That's what's helping me."

"It's a little blunt, but that's a great tool," Ptonomy says. "Let's use it now. Instead of focusing on the bad aspects of your relationship, tell me something good about it. Syd?"

Syd considers that. "Acceptance," she decides. "When I met David-- He made me feel-- Seen, loved." She visibly eases.

As soon as Syd relaxes, David relaxes. "That's-- Important for me too," he admits. "In Clockworks, I felt-- But Syd-- You said-- The things that-- Are wrong with us-- They're not-- Reasons to throw us away." He gives Syd such a meaningful look. "I was a broken plate, I was worthless but-- You loved me anyway."

"You were never worthless," Syd says, softening further.

That love and forgiveness well up again, and this time they spill over. David reaches out across the table, offering his hand to Syd, and she takes it.

"That's better," Dvd says, satisfied.

"So you both feel that the most important aspect of your relationship is acceptance?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yes," David agrees, and Syd nods.

"Then let's make that part of your new foundation," Ptonomy says.

Syd takes her hand back to write that, and David writes it, too.

"What else is important to both of you?" Ptonomy asks. "There's acceptance, safety, open communication. How about trust?"

Both David and Syd sober.

"I don't trust myself," Syd admits. "And-- David abused my trust, before. I understand why and I forgive him. But I still--"

"Those wounds are real," Ptonomy agrees. "Just as the wounds David feels are real. Right?"

"Yeah," David agrees.

"So healing is important," Ptonomy says. "Rebuilding trust is important. Go ahead and write those down, too. I think honesty is essential to both of those. And none of this will be possible without mutual support, caring, dedication."

Syd and David both agree and add to their lists.

"Another important thing is outside of your relationship," Ptonomy continues. "It's your support network, your community of family and friends, including Divad and Dvd. Individually and as a couple, you need a supportive environment if you want to thrive."

Syd quirks a wry smile. "No desert island with a single palm tree?"

"Definitely not," Ptonomy says. "Can you accept that? Being part of a community?"

"Part of me still wants that desert island," Syd admits. "It feels safe. I miss it a lot." She sighs. "But I know it's-- My old refuge. It's-- Me and my mom on the thirty-first floor."

"That's right," Ptonomy agrees. "And you hated that apartment. You hated the isolation and the silence."

"I did," Syd agrees. "The idea of-- Community-- That was either-- My mom's parties or-- School. I hated those, too."

"You're building your own community now," Ptonomy says. "One that helps you instead of hurts you. You're reaching out instead of self-isolating."

Syd lets out a breath. "Yeah. It's-- Better."

"It is," Ptonomy agrees. "So let's look over the list of ideas. Picture your relationship with that as its foundation. How does it feel?"

Syd and David both consider their lists.

"It feels good," David decides. "It feels-- The way my system feels."

"It feels-- Very new, for me," Syd admits. "But I think it's what we need."

"Excellent," Ptonomy says. "I know today's going to have a lot of challenges, but I'd like you both to think about those ideas for a while. When you need them, use them, see what helps most. Put them to the test. Then when you're ready, make them into a strong foundation."

"We will," David promises, determined.

"We will," Syd agrees, less confident but-- Resolved. She offers her hand to David and he takes it, smiles warmly. She smiles back.

"Breakfast’s waiting for us," Ptonomy says. He stands up. "You wait here, I’ll get it."

Divad feels a familiar yearning, and knows what it means even before Dvd has the chance to think it.

‘You want to share for breakfast?’ Divad thinks.

‘Things are gonna get rough again,’ Dvd thinks. ‘We should share while we’re happy.’

‘David?’ Divad prompts.

David looks away from Syd. ‘Yes. I want that too, but— Can we— Hold Syd’s hands together?’ He gives them a hopeful look.

Divad looks to Dvd. Dvd sends back— Approval. Certainty.

‘Of course,’ Divad agrees.

"We’re gonna share for breakfast," David tells Syd. "But if it’s okay— We could still hold hands?"

"With all of you?" Syd asks, and looks around at them for confirmation.

"We’d like that," Divad tells her, and Dvd nods.

Syd takes that in, and Divad doesn’t need telepathy to see that she’s touched. "I’d love to," she says, quietly happy.

Divad considers their seating. If they sit across from Syd, they’ll be able to holds hands and still eat. David’s sitting across from her now, but Divad is the one in their body. Maybe—

"David," Divad says. "How about— You stay there, and I come to you? Think that’ll work?"

David closes his eyes takes a steadying breath. "I think so," he decides. "As long as— I can keep holding Syd’s hand?"

"Of course," Divad agrees. He can feel David’s cautious anticipation, Dvd’s excitement, and his own longing. "Just keep holding her hand and— Remember the feeling of being inside her. Of being surrounded by her, held by her, wrapped up all safe."

David gazes adoringly at Syd as he pulls on the memory, grounds himself in his love for her.

"Now remember yesterday," Divad continues. "Remember being together with Syd, eating cherries. Remember the feeling."

David sighs. "I remember," he murmurs.

Divad slides into David’s side of the booth and into Dvd. Dvd slips into their body, and then the two of them slide into David.

David’s grip tightens on Syd’s hand and then— Their grip is tight around Syd’s hand.

‘We’re here,’ Dvd thinks, warm and happy. ‘We’ve got you.’

‘Dvd,’ David thinks, softly. ‘Divad. Syd.’

‘We’ve all got you,’ Divad thinks, and lets his own happiness into their body so David and Dvd can feel it. Dvd does the same, and then David eases, feels their love, returns it.

They sigh and smile. Syd smiles back.

A plate of waffles slides onto the table, followed by Syd’s veggie omelette.

‘System waffles,’ Dvd thinks, and they feel his fondness, his sadness for Kerry. They all feel it.

Divad and Dvd move their free arm, pick up the syrup and pour it over the waffles. Their mouth waters. Syd’s hand is warm and solid in their hand. David feels happy inside them, content, safe, cared for. His love is a balm, soothing Divad’s lingering loneliness. They’re together, like they should be. They love each other and they’re together, and they have waffles, and they have Syd.

Chapter 158: Day 14: The soul comes joyful to the eye. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

Oliver doesn't much care for pain. He doesn't see the point of it. And as he wakes up, he finds his body to be in a great deal of pain.

What happened? He doesn't think he drank that much. He wanted to drink more but they made him sleep instead. And then--

"Oliver?" calls a voice. Familiar.

Lenny.

For a moment, time runs backwards. The pain is Farouk in his head, torturing him for fun, as he did. And Lenny there with him, forced to watch. Sometimes it was the other way around. Intestines boiling in sand fire creep yellow brain cold sweat earth unbalanced vomit through tears--

Oliver's been trying to remember things, but he doesn't like remembering that. Even though the memory feels dull, he doesn't like it.

"Oliver," Lenny calls again. "C'mon, stop lazing around already."

Oliver cracks open his eyes. He sees the ceiling.

Lenny leans into view. She looks relieved. "You trying to get enough sleep for both of us?"

Oliver tries to speak, but his throat and mouth are dry. Lenny gives him slivers of ice to suck on, and they're soothing.

"How long?" Oliver asks.

"Just a day," Lenny says. "But, uh, things have been kinda crazy."

"How about we sit you up?" Doctor Orwell says. She presses a button and Oliver's bed pushes him up.

Oliver looks around. They're not in Cary's lab, or even the infirmary. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Doctor Orwell asks.

Oliver reaches out, instinctively looking for David. He finds-- "Oh," he says, and remembers. "Two Davids?"

"Double trouble," Lenny agrees. "Quadruple trouble? Anyway, yeah, Farouk made his move. He dumped another David in the lab. That David got scared and blew it up, took you down hard."

Oliver looks down at himself. A flash of memory hits him, bandaged men in a tent. Shrapnel wounds. Orleans to Algeria tremble with tender soldiers weeping--

He blinks the memory away.

"Where's Cary?" he asks. He wants to ask Cary if he was ever in a war.

Lenny and Doctor Orwell both sober.

"Cary's missing," Lenny says. "So's Kerry. But we think-- We know where they are."

"But we need to take care of you first," Doctor Orwell interrupts, and gives Lenny a pointed look.

"Do your thing, doc," Lenny says, hands raised in surrender.

"We'll start with a neurological exam," Doctor Orwell says. She shines her pen light in Oliver's eyes, then has him push against her hands in various ways. She touches various parts of his body, asks him simple questions, and tests his reflexes. Oliver doesn't have any particular trouble, and Doctor Orwell is pleased.

This is my spirit and physical shape, I inhabit this universe--

"Glad to see you're intact," Doctor Orwell says. "We do have something of a body shortage at the moment."

"I'm in quite a lot of pain," he says. "Perhaps I could pop out for a bit?"

"Pop out?" Doctor Orwell asks, confused.

"He wants to be an astral projection," Lenny explains, then turns back to Oliver. "No popping out. You're staying in that thing, clear?"

Oliver sighs. It's not as though they could actually stop him. But-- He does remember that Cary said it was important. Cary was extremely clear about that. It's the only way Oliver will ever be himself again, apparently. Whoever he used to be. Come, sweet lonely spirits, back to your bodies--

"We can give you painkillers now," Doctor Orwell says. "We just needed to see how you were doing first."

A medic gives Oliver a cup of water and some pills. Oliver swallows them.

"How much do you remember from yesterday morning?" Doctor Orwell asks. "Do you remember the explosion?"

"No," Oliver admits. "There was another David, and then--" He shakes his head carefully, as it's quite sore.

"We came in, scared the new David, and-- That was it for you," Lenny says. "We took the crown off David and put it on-- Past David. That's what we're calling him. Farouk-- Made him. Out of-- David's old memories and-- Part of his soul and--" She hesitates. "He probably did what he did to me and Amy. Changed the Karies’ body into David's."

"Oh," Oliver says, softly. A distant grief wells in his chest. "Then-- Their soul?"

"Dunno," Lenny sighs. "David tried to find it, no luck. Maybe you can."

Oliver takes that in, and then-- Tries to get out of the hospital bed.

"Whoa whoa," Lenny says, pushing him back. "Not so fast. We gotta take care of you first."

"But Cary," Oliver says. He feels like he has to help Cary, like he has to help Melanie. He's always felt that, even when he didn't know who they were at all.

"Even if we find them, there's nothing we can do right now," Lenny says. "Farouk's still got the gene gun. We get that thing back, then we can fix the Karies. But-- We might actually have a way to fix you."

"Fix me?" Oliver asks, curious.

"Yeah, sort out that detached head," Lenny says. "Syd's coming up now."

"So she is," Oliver agrees. He can hear her. She's nervous, hopeful. She's worried about-- "Melanie?"

"Where?" Lenny says, alarmed. "Shit, already?"

"Already what?" Oliver asks.

"You didn't hear Melanie just now?"

"Should I have?"

"Why do I try to have conversations with you?" Lenny mutters. "Why did you say Melanie?"

"Syd's thinking about her."

"Fuck," Lenny breathes, relieved and vaguely annoyed. "Don't do that to me."

"My apologies," Oliver says, though he has no idea what he did.

"Look," Lenny says, firmly. "Farouk took Melanie's body, okay? He's probably defrosted her already and he's just waiting to make his next move. So we gotta get you ready. We need you so we can save Melanie from whatever bullshit Farouk shoved into her head, you dig? So you gotta get better."

"Oh," Oliver says, softly. "I have missed-- Quite a lot."

Melanie. Drinking coffee in lamplight, the rain beating down outside. Her smile, soft and shy and-- Her love. A glow of happiness next morn, warm glow of pleasure half the day—

"She's coming back?" Oliver asks, hope a lit fuse in his chest, burning through to-- Something--

"You wanna be ready for her, right?" Lenny says. "You wanna-- Be the you she remembers."

"Yes," Oliver agrees, certain even though he has little to be certain of.

The door opens and Syd enters, and then-- Ptonomy and David, Divad, Dvd. The Davids' thoughts are guarded now, but their presence is still powerful. Holy sunlight, looking back with eyes shut--

"Oliver," Divad says, rushing to meet him first. "You're okay?" He looks to Lenny. "He's okay?"

"No worse than usual," Lenny says, but she's relieved.

"Thank god," Divad says. He grins. "He's okay!"

"We heard," Dvd says, unimpressed. But he's relieved, too.

"Oliver," David says, quiet with guilt. "I'm so sorry."

Please don’t blame me, they had me for twenty years--

"Hey, it wasn't your fault," Lenny tells him.

"I know," David says, but he obviously doesn't believe it. He looks to Syd, hopeful.

"Wish me luck," Syd says. 'God, I hope this works.'

"Let's get you ready," Doctor Orwell says, and she guides Syd to take Lenny's seat, then starts attaching sensors. Another medic starts attaching sensors to Oliver. Both Oliver and Syd are secured to their chairs with straps.

"Oliver doesn't remember the explosion," Doctor Orwell tells them. "But that's quite normal with a concussion."

I only remembered the ocean’s roll, and islands that I passed--

Divad looks closely at Oliver. "You sure he's okay for this?"

"I don't think we can afford to wait," Ptonomy says. "Is there something wrong?"

"I guess not," Divad says, but he's still concerned. He looks Oliver in the eyes. "If something feels wrong, you let us know, okay?"

"Certainly," Oliver says, calmly. "The bright sunshine is a salute to the health of the blue sky."

Divad gives him a fond, sad smile. "It is."

"Everybody back," Doctor Orwell warns. "There'll be a shock wave."

"Okay," Syd says, and reaches out her bare hand. "Here we go."

She touches him and then--

It's familiar, the sensation of leaving his body. He thinks for a moment how odd it is that they want to take him out of it after all the fuss they made about keeping him in it. And then--

Everything rocks back from some unseen force. The chairs nearly tip over, but they're caught and righted. Oliver moans, dizzy, disoriented. He sees himself, his body in the chair beside him. He looks down at himself, and sees Syd's body.

Oh yes. Now he remembers.

"Syd?" Doctor Orwell calls. "You okay?"

"Ow," Syd says, wincing. "Got any more painkillers?"

Doctor Orwell chuckles. "Give the ones inside you time to work." She turns to Oliver. "Oliver?"

"Present," Oliver reports.

"Great," Doctor Orwell says. "How are you feeling?"

Oliver considers that. "Different," he decides.

"Good different?" Divad asks.

"I'm not sure," Oliver admits. He concentrates, and then realizes-- "There's no poetry."

"Poetry?" Divad asks.

"Yes, it was getting quite annoying but-- It seems to have stopped," Oliver says. His mind feels-- Quiet here. Calm. Held, somehow. It's-- Actually quite soothing.

"The poetry is-- The memories in your body trying to reconnect with your mind," Doctor Orwell says. "That makes sense. They can't reconnect while you're inside of Syd."

"Is that a problem?" Divad asks her.

"The process should resume once they switch back," Doctor Orwell says. 'Fascinating,' she thinks. 'Perhaps-- The extended rest from the coma--' She grabs a stack of cards and pulls over a chair. "I'm going to show you some pictures. Tell me how they make you feel.

At first, all the cards make Oliver feel the same thing: vague disinterest. There are-- Small pangs of distant emotions but-- Nothing quite reaches him.

David brings a chair over and sits next to Syd, holds her hand. The painkillers kick in and she relaxes.

"I don't-- Care for this one," Oliver says, disturbed somehow. It's a photo of a dead animal on the side of the road.

'Increased response,' Doctor Orwell thinks, excited. "You're doing great."

They continue and gradually-- It's like-- Cotton being pulled out of his ears, like-- Walking into a warm, bright home after a long night in the numbing cold. He starts to-- Smile at pictures of-- Happy babies.

"Stop, please," he says, tightly. It's overwhelming, feeling so much.

Doctor Orwell puts down the cards. 'Fantastic results,' she thinks. "Okay. How about we put you back, let all that settle?" 'We have a genuine treatment for detachment syndrome. This will change everything.'

"Syd?" David calls. "You can let go."

Syd stirs and then--

It's much more peaceful returning to his body than leaving it. Or rather-- It comes to him. Suddenly David is holding Syd's actual hand, rather than Oliver's. And then--

Chinese coffee in small glasses-- The skin trembles in happiness. The soul comes joyful to the eye--

Tears stream down his face. His heart wells with joy and grief. He breathes in deep and--

The poetry becomes-- Memory.

"I remember," he says, even he struggles against a torrent of memories. Melanie, young and then old. Cary, Summerland, his parents. "My family--" All the-- Stories Cary told him that belonged to someone else--

They're suddenly his. He was there, he remembers being there, he remembers feeling.

"Oliver," Divad says, worried and excited.

"Give him space," Doctor Orwell says. "Keep monitoring."

Oliver presses back in his chair as he remembers his life, as he remembers-- Who he is. Oliver Anthony Bird. Remembers his childhood, remembers how excited he was to get the ranch, remembers his horror and grief as-- As mutants died, over and over.

The grief came back to him before, but now it's-- Anchored. There's recognition. Faces, names, stories. Teaching, helping people-- Get better. Meeting Melanie. China, the flood, mud everywhere, the smell of-- The stink of death and then-- At the heart of it, such unexpected joy.

And grief again, and-- The absence of grief. He remembers forgetting, and the relief of it, and then-- Forgetting he was relieved. Forgetting, forgetting, and then--

He screams.

"Oliver," David calls, worried.

He keeps screaming.

"Oliver!" Lenny calls, urgent. She turns away. "Do something!"

He keeps screaming and then-- He stops.

"Holy shit," Lenny mutters, wide-eyed. "Oliver?"

Oliver smiles at her and then passes out.

Chapter 159: Day 14: I'm here to rescue you. (Past David)

Chapter Text

"David. David. David, wake up."

David tries to wake up, but it's a struggle. He feels like he was down in the deepest sleep of his life. The voice is a woman's, familiar, and when he finally opens his eyes--

"Melanie?" How?

Melanie puts her finger over her lips, hushing him. David's still groggy, and for a moment all he can think of is Syd, breaking into the lab.

He looks around. Oliver's gone and so is his bed. He turns, expecting to find Amy or Lenny in the chair beside him, but-- There's no one there.

And then he looks down.

"Amy!" David cries. He reaches for her and start to fall off the bed, and then-- Stops falling. Rises up and then he's back on the bed.

Melanie. Her powers. She-- Wait, why-- "Amy," he says, confused. "What--"

"We don't have time," Melanie says, urgent and hushed. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Rescue me?" David echoes, baffled. "How did you-- Where--" And then he remembers.

The monster.

His eyes go wide. He stumbles off bed, steps over Amy's body. Is she unconscious? Dead? No, it's a-- Prosthetic body-- "Stay away!" He sees another body on the floor, one of the medics. There's blood.

There's something in Melanie's hand. It's familiar, it's-- One of those devices that was on Oliver and--

"David, I'm not the monster," Melanie says. "It took me and Amahl but we escaped."

"What did you do to Amy?" David asks, glancing at her again. She blew up before and she was fine, she has to be okay.

There's the sound of running feet outside the door.

"We have to go," Melanie tells him. "These people aren't who you think they are."

"What are you--" David starts, and then the door bursts open. Black clad soldiers raise their guns.

Melanie raises her hand and they fly back into the hallway. Another wave and the door slams shut.

"This isn't the hospital," Melanie says. "It's a trick. This place is called Division 3. They're military, they hunt mutants and kill us."

David looks into the hall. There's more soldiers coming. It's-- Weird that a hospital would be full of soldiers, but--

"I'm not a mutant," David protests.

"No," Melanie agrees. "You're bait. This is a trap, but I had to come. We couldn't leave you behind."

She waves her hand again, and the new soldiers fly back.

"Amahl?" David asks, hopeful.

"He's waiting for you," Melanie says. "Come with me."

Yes, David thinks, flooded with relief and joy. And then he remembers-- "Syd. She's here, we can't--"

"We won't leave without her," Melanie promises. "Come on."

She takes his hand and starts for the door, but David resists. He looks at Amy again. He doesn't want to leave her behind, he just got her back. "Melanie, wait. We have to bring Amy, too."

"That's not your sister," Melanie says. "It's not human."

"I know it's-- Strange," David admits. "But she was hurt, they had to give her a-- Prosthetic body."

"It's not her."

"Of course it's her."

"She rejected you."

"She didn't," David insists. "The monster-- Melanie, please!"

Melanie sighs. She twitches her finger and Amy's limp body rises. "We have to go."

"Okay," David agrees, relieved. They walk out. The soldiers are all unconscious. They step over them. "I don't know where Syd is."

"I do," Melanie says. They head for the stairs, but before they get there-- The elevator door opens.

"Syd," David says, surprised, relieved. That was easy. "Look, it's Melanie!"

"I see her," Syd says, calm but-- Visibly wary. She sees Amy and her eyes widen. "What are you doing here, Melanie?"

When Melanie doesn't answer, David does. "She's going to take us to Amahl. He's okay! They got away from the monster."

"David, that isn't Melanie," Syd says.

"Don’t listen to her," Melanie says. "Division 3 brainwashed her, I can hear it in her thoughts."

"The real Melanie doesn't have powers," Syd says. She takes another step closer. "The real Melanie isn't a mutant." She reaches up her hand. "But I am." She grabs Melanie's hand with her bare hand and--

Syd falls to the floor and so does Amy. Melanie stares down at Syd, then looks up at David. "David, it's me. It's Syd. I'm in Melanie's body."

David backs away. "No," he says, shaking his head. "This is-- It's a nightmare. It isn't real."

"David, stay calm," Melanie says. She takes cuffs from one of the unconscious soldiers and puts them on Syd.

She's distracted. David bolts for the stairs.

"David!" Syd calls after him, but he's already through the door.

Amahl is out there somewhere, waiting for him. Or-- Is he? David doesn't know what's happening. He just-- Has to get somewhere safe. It's only a few flights to the main floor and then--

He hesitates, then-- Peeks through the door. He sees people, but-- Then he hears footsteps coming down the stairs.

"David!" Melanie's voice. Maybe Syd was right, maybe she is the monster. Then Amahl--?

He rushes out and runs right into-- Ptonomy? David jumps back just as Ptonomy reaches for him.

He runs, heart pounding, adrenaline high. He finds an open door and ducks inside, shuts it behind him. It's-- A locker room? With black uniforms and weapons and--

There's a symbol on the wall, a hexagon with a line and-- Dots? He tilts his head, trying to understand it. And then he realizes.

Three dots. Division 3. Melanie was right, this isn't a hospital.

These people aren't who you think they are.

The door opens. "David?"

David ducks behind a row of lockers. He sees a gun in an open locker and grabs it.

"David, we know you're in here." It's Clark. "Now's not the time for hide and seek, c'mon."

David waits until Clark walks deeper into the room, then slips past him and heads for the door. He opens it but-- Lenny's on the other side. David jumps away, but Clark is coming back. David presses back against the wall and raises the gun. His hands are shaking. He's never used a gun before, but it's-- It's simple, right? Just aim and-- And pull the trigger.

"Shit," Lenny says.

"David," Clark says, in a calming tone. "Put the gun down."

David points the gun at Clark, then at Lenny, then back at Clark. "Stay back!"

"Nobody's gonna hurt you," Lenny soothes.

David swallows, looks frantically for another exit. There's a doorway on the other side. He starts edging towards it.

"Where am I?" David demands. "What is this place? Don't lie to me!"

"It's not a hospital," Lenny admits. "But we're not the bad guys, okay? We're just trying to help you."

"You kidnapped me!" David's almost to the other door now.

"We're trying to protect you," Clark says.

David's almost to the door and then-- Ptonomy walks in.

David startles and the gun fires.

Ptonomy looks down at the bullet hole in his stomach. "Damn it," he sighs. A few sparks fly out. He starts for David.

David makes a terrified animal noise and raises the gun again, but he's grabbed from behind. The gun is yanked away. He struggles desperately but Lenny's so strong.

"Let me go!" David screams.

"A little help?" Clark says, tightly.

Ptonomy grabs David and he and Lenny pin him down. David flails but it's useless.

"Sedation?" Clark asks, brushing himself off.

"Fuck off," Lenny says.

And then-- Melanie walks in.

"Melanie!" David cries. "Melanie, help!"

"David," Melanie says, upset. "No one's gonna hurt you, okay? Just calm down."

"You have to stop them," David begs. "Please!"

Melanie turns to Clark. "Is it safe to let go?"

Clark puts his hand to his ear. "She's contained."

Melanie closes her eyes and then-- Suddenly she's gone, and Syd is standing there.

David goes still, shocked.

"Finally," Lenny mutters. She and Ptonomy haul him to his feet. David just stares at Syd.

"You're right," Syd says. "We have been lying to you."

"Syd," David says, but he doesn't even know where to start.

"I'm a mutant, David," Syd says. "And so are you. And the year you spent in the lab-- You shouldn't have been there. You were taken and we couldn't stop it. The monster took you."

Nothing makes sense, but that makes the least sense of all. "No."

"He did," Syd says. "Just like he brought Melanie here. But we won't let him take you again."

"I don't understand," David says, in a tired whine. His nightmares are always so exhausting. He just wants to wake up.

"I know," Syd says, sadly.

David struggles as they haul him back upstairs, but it's hopeless. They get back to the infirmary floor, and soldiers being tended to by medics or taken away on stretchers. Amy’s prosthetic body is gone.

He struggles again as they put him back in the bed and back in the restraints.

He knows what this is now. He's a prisoner. Not a patient, a prisoner. This is a prison and they just-- Prettied it up so they could trick him.

"None of this is real," he says, dully.

"I'm sorry," Syd says. "We made it-- As real as we could. Everyone here cares about you very much."

"What do you want?" David asks, just-- Needing to know.

"We want to stop the monster," Syd promises. "And we want you to be safe and happy and-- And whole."

"Liar," David snarls. He struggles again, suddenly furious. He bares his teeth and yanks and yanks at the restraints, bruising himself but he's glad, he wants to hurt. He pushes his head back and the spikes of the crown dig into his skull. He screams against the pain.

"David, please stop," Syd begs. "We don't want to have to sedate you."

"You're not Syd," David spits. "Amy's not real, none of you are real!" He gives a manic laugh. "I’m crazy. I’m crazy." And then he sobs, laughs, sobs.

"David," Syd says, distraught.

But it’s lies, just more lies. He’s not dreaming, he’s hallucinating. He’s insane.

He rages against the restraints, screaming and wild. Syd starts to cry and she turns away, but she’s not Syd, she’s not real, nothing is real. He screams and screams until a medic finally comes with a needle.

They all have to hold him down so they can stick him. He makes them work for it, but then—

The drug hits his system quickly, the woozy numbness as familiar as the needle. It takes away the panic and fear. He wants it to take everything. He’s so tired.

"David," Syd says, staring at him, lost.

David closes his eyes.

Chapter 160: Day 14: Why can't I remember? (Melanie, David)

Chapter Text

Melanie wakes to the sensation of being lifted up. Floating? She's used to floating. But no, there's hands. Someone has her. She tries to muster her powers and push them away, but nothing happens. They put her down in a chair and then step back.

A bright flash of light makes her flinch as she opens her eyes. She's not tied down, but when she reaches out, her hand is stopped by-- A wall of light all around her. As her head clears she realizes she's trapped in some kind of machine, glowing and turning, generating-- Some kind of force field.

And then she looks down at herself and realizes-- This isn't her body. It's Syd's.

Syd. How did she-- What did they do to Syd?

She looks past the light to the people who brought her here. Black-clad soldiers, Division 3. She takes in a sharp breath.

She's been hiding from the Divisions her whole life. She was always one step ahead of them, thanks to her powers. She travelled the world, rescuing mutants and smuggling them to safety before the Divisions caught up with them. And now they finally have her.

She stands and slams her fists against the force field, but it's strong. And then between strikes--

Syd's hands become her hands. Melanie's herself again.

Good. Maybe now she has her powers back.

She tries to use her powers to break the force field, but-- Nothing. The faceless soldiers are standing guard around the room, guns ready. She tries to stare them down, but they're faceless, black masks and goggles hiding even their eyes.

She still can't hear their thoughts. Have they finally found a way to block her? No, she heard their thoughts before, tense and angry, calling her a monster. They're the monsters.

"Hey!" she shouts, demanding their attention. "Give me back my daughter!"

Nothing.

"Where's David?" she demands. "You've got what you want now. You've got me. Now let him go."

Nothing.

She paces the small circle, mind racing. She knew this was a trap, she knew they were trying to lure her out into the open. But she came anyway because she couldn't let anything happen to David. Amahl would never forgive her.

And Syd. They had Syd, of course she couldn't-- She had to rescue her daughter.

God, what a disaster. It must be the machine that’s suppressing her powers. It's the only thing that makes sense. But they can't keep her here forever. There'll be an opening, a chance to break free. Then she’ll find David and Syd and get them both out of here, get them back to Amahl and-- Undo whatever the Divisions have done to them. She'll protect her whole family from the Divisions and-- From David's monster.

She can't believe it's still alive. Amahl was so sure that it was dead. But he's as upset about all this as she is. He's just-- Powerless. A normal human, unable to take on a military force like Division 3 or-- A powerful mutant out for revenge.

She paces and then she sits and then she paces. And then the door to the room opens and--

"David," Melanie gasps.

The soldiers escorting David stand back, and he walks up to her. He looks-- Wrung out, tired. But she's so relieved.

"Did they hurt you?" Melanie asks, urgent. "Are you okay?"

"Not great," David admits. "Melanie, I'm-- I'm so sorry."

"This wasn't your fault," Melanie tells him. "I know how easily you blame yourself and-- Please don't."

"I'll try," David says, with a sad, wry smile. She notices-- That strange crown he was wearing when she found him, it's gone.

"How's Syd?" Melanie asks. "Have you seen her?"

"She's okay," David says. "Upset, but--" He hesitates. "Melanie, we need to find Amahl. Do you know where he is?"

Melanie takes a step back. "They got to you, too? Oh, David."

"No," David insists. "No one's got to me, I promise. I just--" He gives her a vulnerable look. "I don't understand what happened. We were in the lab and-- Everything was fine. And then I woke up and you were gone."

"No," Melanie says. "We woke up and you were gone. You and Syd."

David shakes his head. "But the lab-- I destroyed it."

"This isn't the hospital," Melanie tells him. "Whatever lab you were in when you woke up-- It wasn't ours. It was a copy. The lab is fine."

"But the monster took you," David insists. "You said it took you and Amahl."

"It did," Melanie agrees. "But it took you first. It gave you and Syd to Division 3, knowing what that would do to us. And then it came back and-- It took us, too." She shudders. "Tortured us. It was-- Furious."

David's face creases with grief and anger. "Melanie, I'm so sorry."

"It wasn't your fault," Melanie insists. "It was our job to protect you. I was there to keep you safe and-- I failed."

David nods, sadly. "Then-- The lab? All of Amahl's work?"

"It's still there," Melanie promises. "You can still be Amahl's key. Everything's ready. All you have to do is come back to us."

"I want to," David says, and there's longing in his eyes, his voice. He looks around at the soldiers. "But I can't," he tells her, apologetic.

"No," Melanie agrees. "You're just a normal human. You don't have powers."

"But you do," David says. "You stopped all those soldiers."

"And I can stop the monster," Melanie promises. "That mutant-- It's a threat, not just to me but-- To the world. Tell them that, please. You know what it's capable of, better than anyone. We can-- Make a deal. I can help the Divisions stop it, if-- If they let you go."

"You'd give yourself up?" David asks, upset.

"They already have me," Melanie says. "But you can still save the world, David. You can help so many people. All you have to do is-- Go back to Amahl."

"And be his key," David says, softly.

"Yes," Melanie sighs. She feels-- Intense relief that David understands, that they haven't lost him like-- Like they've lost Syd. But once David is Amahl's key then-- Then Syd will be okay, too, she knows it.

David goes quiet, then gets a strange expression. "He really does know just what to say. If Syd hadn't stopped you, if you'd had longer with me-- I'm sure it would've worked."

"David?" Melanie asks, warily. Maybe Division 3 did brainwash him after all.

And then David-- Changes. He gets older, broader, his hair gets shorter. He still looks wrung out, tired, but-- Also healthier, somehow.

His eyes are the same.

"What--" Melanie gasps. "Who are you?"

"David Haller," David says. "The same David you've-- Tried to save. Twice. I'm-- The part of me that knows the truth." He turns to the soldiers. "You can turn it off now."

And to Melanie's astonishment, one of the soldiers obeys, pressing a button on a remote control. The machine turns off and folds itself back into the floor.

Melanie raises her hand, ready to strike for her freedom-- But nothing happens. She doesn't hear any thoughts. She looks around for an exit, confused, and then--

"Please, take a seat," David says, and flicks his hand.

An invisible force grips Melanie and pulls her down to the chair, holds her there.

"The monster," Melanie breathes, eyes wide. "David, I'm so sorry. It's back inside you."

"No," David says. There's suddenly another chair, and David sits in it. He leans forward on his elbows, rubs his hands together, thinking. "Once upon a time, there was a girl with no dreams. But-- That was wrong. I was wrong. You had-- Amazing dreams. You were just-- Tired of carrying them alone."

"What?" Melanie asks, bewildered.

"That's why you wanted to be care free," David continues. He seems to be struggling with something. "And I didn't really-- Understand that? I didn't understand anything, I was--" He shakes his head. "The monster took you, the same way it took me. It changed you. It made you forget your own truth. But--" He points at her. "That truth's still inside you. No matter how much he took, he couldn't take everything. So I know, I know it's going to come back. Even if it takes a while. And you won't be alone. Even if you-- Kick and scream for us to leave."

Melanie wishes she could hear his thoughts, but she doubts they'd make any more sense than his words. "David, you have to let me help you."

"Because I'm-- A normal human?" David asks. "With no powers?" He gestures and then-- The soldiers are gone.

Melanie gapes at him.

"They're fine," David says. "Just downstairs." He gestures at his head. "I gave em a three second warning. Well, two seconds. My point is-- This isn't about the Divisions. It's not even about the monster."

"David Haller doesn't have powers," Melanie says, firmly.

"And you know that?" David challenges. "Just like you knew I wasn't sick?"

"Of course you're sick," Melanie says. "That's why Amahl wants to help you."

David laughs. He rubs at his face. "I'm sure he does. But I don't need his kind of help. I will never be his son or his key and I refuse to be his victim." His anger fades as quickly as it came. "None of this is going to mean anything to you, not for a while. Have you ever heard of Oliver Bird?"

Melanie shakes her head.

"No," David agrees, softly. "For a long time, he couldn't remember you. More of the monster's 'poetry.'" He looks disgusted, then shakes it off. "He's your husband."

Melane just scoffs and leans back in the chair. "You're insane."

"Sanity is a relative concept," David says. "But no. I'm not. I wasn't. But what's a sane man in an insane world?" He looks a little manic, then calms himself. "Sorry, it's been-- A really difficult morning."

Melanie still has no idea what's going on, if that's even David at all, but-- She feels bad for him. He's clearly suffering. "David, whatever’s wrong-- Maybe I can help."

"Actually, it's my turn to help you," David says. There's suddenly a photo in his hand. He gives it to her.

It's herself and a man she doesn't recognize. She's young, wearing some sort of Chinese dress. The man is also young, and handsome.

"That's you and Oliver," David explains. "You met doing humanitarian aid in China. You fell in love, got married. You traveled the world, saving mutants, and then you made us a place to call home. Summerland." He pauses, expectant, then continues. "You helped a lot of people. Saved lives. You shared your dream with us. And in the end-- We failed you. I'm sorry for that."

"I'm sure you did your best," Melanie says, humoring him.

"Not really," David admits. "I've been told I'm-- Gullible. Easily distracted. Just dangle something shiny." He pretends to dangle something, and then-- There's a shiny cat toy on a string. He laughs. "I should give it to Matilda. Syd's cat. She's very soft. Hold on." He turns. "Matilda!"

There's a meow and then-- Suddenly there's a cat. Matilda, presumably. She walks up and rubs against David's leg, and when she sees the shiny toy she bats at it.

"Here," David says, handing Melanie the string.

Melanie doesn't know what else to do, so she dangles it over Matilda and plays with the cat. And then Matilda jumps up onto her lap, turns around, lies down, and starts purring loudly.

Melanie isn't sure what she expected from this conversation, but definitely wasn't the cat.

"She remembers you," David says.

"Syd doesn't have a cat."

"Syd isn't your daughter," David says, a little sadly. "I know you did your best for her, though. While I was gone. Some people can be-- Really hard to help. Even if they want to be helped."

"I think I know who my daughter is," Melanie scoffs.

"How much do you remember about her?" David asks. "Do you remember-- Giving birth to her? Changing her diapers? Brushing her hair and working out the knots? That time she spilled food all over the sofa?"

"She's my daughter," Melanie insists. But-- When she tries to remember--

She frowns.

"He always makes mistakes," David says. "The monster. And of course he does, he's not god. All he can do is tricks. And the thing about any magic trick is-- It only works from one direction. Turn it around and you see the seams. Give it a pull in the right place and all just-- Falls apart."

Melanie tries harder to remember Syd's childhood. Or-- Being pregnant. She'd never forget being pregnant. But it's like-- Suddenly stumbling over a hole in the world that goes all the way down.

"Why can't I remember?" Melanie asks, afraid.

"Because he didn't care," David says. "It wasn't useful to him to do the work of making all the memories that would matter to you if Syd was actually your daughter. None of us are more than-- Paper dolls, to him."

"You're saying-- The monster made me forget?"

"Yes," David says. "And he made you remember, but only what he wanted you to remember. Only what would help him make a magic trick to use on me."

"That's-- Ridiculous," Melanie protests.

"You were going to say crazy," David says, knowing.

Melanie huffs. "Fine. It's crazy."

"But you accept that the monster is real," David counters. "That it's a mutant who was living inside me, feeding on me, torturing me."

"Yes," Melanie says, reluctantly.

"And it made me see things, hear things," David continues. "It gave me delusions."

"Yes."

"So is it that unlikely that it did the same thing to you?" David asks. "You told me the monster took you, tortured you. It could have done anything to you, made you a whole new story, and all you could do was accept it."

"I remember my life," Melanie insists, disturbed.

"Then write it all down," David says. He hands her a notebook and pen that didn't exist a moment ago. "Tell me-- The hardest part of med school. The wildest party. I hear med schools have wild parties."

Melanie stares at him, at a loss. "I didn't-- Go to parties."

"What, you just stayed in your room and studied for all those years?" David asks, skeptical. "Who was your best friend? Who was your roommate? Did you parents make it to your graduation ceremony?"

Melanie tries to remember. But there's nothing.

David takes the notebook back and puts it on-- The table that wasn't there a moment ago. There's water, snacks.

"You should pet Matilda," David advises.

Melanie pets the cat. She's very soft, and warm.

"Why can't I remember?" Melanie asks, and her voice sounds so small.

"This is the hard part," David says, sympathetic. "Letting go of-- What you thought you knew. Deciding to get better. But you've helped so many people. Without you, I would've been-- Dead on the bottom of a swimming pool. You saved my life. Let me help you save yours."

Melanie wants to say yes. She wants help, but-- "What happened to my powers?"

"You're human, Melanie. You're just a normal human. You don't have powers."

"You're wrong," Melanie insists, clinging to that. "I freed you. I stopped those soldiers. I hear people's thoughts."

"It seems like you did," David agrees. "I guess-- You have to decide if-- That matters more to you than-- The memories you're missing. Holding your infant daughter in your arms for the first time. Do you remember that?"

It's like being ripped open to say it, but: "No."

"No," David agrees, softly.

The door opens, and-- Syd walks in. Melanie stares at her. Syd braces herself and walks up to them.

"Hey," she says, softly. "How's it going?"

"Good, I think," David says, and quirks a smile. "Melanie needs some time. But she shouldn't be alone."

"I'll stay with her," Syd says. She meets Melanie's eyes. "If that's okay?"

"Syd," Melanie breathes. She feels like she failed her, forgetting everything. Her own daughter. "I'm so sorry."

"None of this is your fault," Syd says, certain. "We'll figure it out together, okay?"

Melanie musters a smile for her. And then-- "If you're-- Not my daughter, then-- Who are you?"

"We're friends," Syd says. David stands up and she takes his seat. "Really good friends. And you're-- My mentor, I guess. My co-worker. And my therapist."

"That's-- Quite a lot," Melanie says, surprised.

"How about I tell you?" Syd offers. "And maybe-- Something I tell you will be familiar. Or it will be one day. We're pretty sure you'll be able to remember everything. Just not-- The everything you remember now."

"I'm afraid," Melanie admits. She's trembling.

Syd turns. "David, could you--" And then she gives a soft laugh. There's a blanket in her arms. She wraps it around Melanie's shoulders.

"You've had a shock," Syd says, kindly. "But you're going to be okay."

§

David steps out into the hall and Divad and Dvd turn visible.

"You were amazing," Divad says.

"More than half of that was you," David replies. God, he's shaking. He's not even in their body, but he's shaking. It was so hard to be in that room again. All of that was so hard.

"C'mere," Dvd says, and holds him. "You did great."

David breathes against his shoulder. When he feels able, he lets go, but then-- "Can we-- Be together for a while?"

"Always," Divad promises. "C'mere." He spreads his arms.

David steps inside and then-- So does Dvd.

David thinks of cherry pie. Sitting together in their family kitchen, Dad with his coffee, Mom making the crust. Amy beside him, slicing open cherries and taking out the pits. He remembers sneaking cherries from the bowl and eating them with his system, and sharing cherries with Syd. Syd around him, keeping him safe.

He's okay. They're okay.

Chapter 161: Day 14: Kerry and Cary! Kerry and Cary! (Past David)

Chapter Text

People come in and out of the infirmary. Syd leaves, Lenny returns, Doctor Orwell visits.

David doesn't open his eyes. He’s not sleepy at all but he doesn’t want to be awake, so he lets the medication hold him down. He drifts in and out of consciousness, ignoring any attempts to talk to him, engage him.

His head hurts, but not enough. He's bruised under the restraints but it's not enough. If he was any more awake, he'd fix that, but he doesn't want to be awake. He doesn't want to be anything.

He thought he was safe. He'll never be safe, and he's so tired of trying, of letting himself hope just so his hope can be crushed. Of believing things that end up just being-- More lies, delusions.

He's insane. All of this has just been one long delusion. He was never saved. Why did he ever think he could be saved? He's so stupid, so gullible. Divad always--

No. The monster always said it. It knows what he is, what he deserves. It always did. He's not any good at-- Surviving. Being in the world. That's why it-- Took control. Put him where he belonged. Gave him what he needed, love and-- Pain. They were-- Happy then, for a while. It was-- How things were supposed to be.

It's how they should be now. But he can't feel the monster inside him. He's empty. He just wants to go away, but-- He doesn't deserve that either. He needs to exist so he can suffer. That's what he's for.

Time passes, and then--

He feels something. It's nothing he recognizes, a strange tickle at the back of his mind. He ignores it at first, and it goes away but then comes back stronger.

He thinks-- He can hear something in his head, faint and far away. Someone's-- Calling his name?

"Go away," he mumbles. He just wants to be left alone.

"I think he can hear us," says a man's voice, excited. "Keep calling. David?"

"David?" calls a woman's voice.

"Go away," David mutters, sullen. He stirs unhappily. He just wants to be alone and no one will leave him alone. And now there's-- Some kind of hallucination bothering him.

He shouldn't be surprised. The whole world is a hallucination.

"David?" The voices are louder now, closer. "We know you're upset, we-- We saw what happened. But please, we need your help."

"Go away," David says, loud and angry.

"David?" Lenny says, surprised.

"Tell Lenny we're here," the woman says. "Kerry and Cary. We're stuck in your head."

"Leave me alone!" David groans. He tries to grab at his head but the restraints stop him.

"Shit," Lenny mutters. He hears her lean forward. "I know you're mad but c'mon."

"All you have to do is say our names," the man says, urgently. "Just say-- Cary and Kerry. Please, David. We've been trying to reach you all morning, this might be our only chance."

"Kerry and Cary!" the woman says, loudly. "Kerry and Cary, Kerry and Cary, Kerry and Cary!"

David writhes. "No!" he groans. "Leave me alone! Go away!"

"I'm not leaving," Lenny says, firmly.

David decides to glare at Lenny so she knows he’s not talking to her. But when he pries open his eyes--

"Kerry and Cary!" a strange girl yells, leaning over him. "Kerry and Cary!"

David screams. He tries to pull away but the restraints hold him tight.

"Oh dear," says the man beside her.

Lenny looks at where David is looking, but she doesn't seem to see them. "David? C'mon, talk to me."

"Kerry and Cary!" the girl yells again. She's not stopping. "Kerry and Cary!"

"Kerry and Cary!" David screams, sobs.

"Holy shit," Lenny says, eyes wide. She looks around the room, then-- Looks where David's looking. "They're here? You can see them?"

David looks at Lenny, baffled, bewildered. The two strangers are grinning with relief.

David thinks that-- The man looks vaguely familiar. And then he realizes— That's the man in the other bed, the one who never wakes up. David can't turn his head but-- He thinks he can still see the man lying there, out of the corner of his eye.

"We're here," the girl says. Kerry? "Tell her we're here. Tell her!"

"Kerry, don't be so rough," the man chides. Cary? "David's in a very delicate state."

"Yeah, and so are we," Kerry says. "Tell Lenny we're here or else!"

David swallows. His tongue feels thick, his mouth dry. "They're here," he slurs. He tries to reach for Lenny but he can't. "I need--" he starts. He needs more sedative. "Make it stop," he begs.

"It's gonna be okay," Lenny says, and she's grinning, too. "Fuck, finally. We've been waiting forever for you guys to show up."

More people come in, and David whines and tries to pull away.

"Hey, back off," Lenny warns. "This is the worst timing."

"Okay, give him some space,” Ptonomy says, and they all stand back.

“Cary? Kerry?” Amy calls. “We’re here.”

“David, you’ll have to relay for us,” Cary says, apologetic. “We know you’re feeling— Very distressed, but— You’re the only one who can hear us.”

David whines. He squeezes his eyes shut. If he just ignores them, they’ll go away.

“Uh, I don’t think David’s up to this right now,” Lenny says. “Oliver, maybe you can—”

Oliver walks up. “I’ll see what I can do.”

David stares, surprised to see him awake.

“Hello again,” Oliver says, warmly. “We were never properly introduced. My name is Oliver Anthony Bird. And your name is David?”

David swallows.

“Oliver, my god. How?” Cary asks.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Oliver says. “There's no need to be alarmed. I know you've had an awful time, and I'm very sorry about that. But we're going to try to make it better."

He waits for David to reply, then continues. "We'll keep things simple for now. Cary and Kerry are our friends and we need to hear what they’re saying. I'm going to try to do that myself, but that means I have to look inside you. Is that all right?"

David just stares at him.

"Say yes," Kerry demands. "Say yes or I'll scream!"

"Kerry," Cary protests.

"Yes," David rasps. Whatever it takes to make all this stop. “Just— Make them go away.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Oliver says. He rests one hand on David’s head. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

Oliver closes his eyes and goes quiet. His brow furrows. “Fascinating. They’re not actually here.”

“We’re not?” Kerry asks, surprised.

“What does that mean?” Ptonomy asks.

“Obviously they exist,” Oliver says. “But their souls are not in this body.”

“Amy,” Doctor Orwell says. “You were in their position. Any ideas?"

“I don't know, um.” Amy thinks. "Maybe— Could it somehow be— Like the mainframe?”

“So their souls are connected to this body, but not actually inside it?” Doctor Orwell hums in thought. “That would explain how we were still able to bring you into the mainframe along with Lenny.”

“Then we could use the mainframe to pull them free?” Ptonomy asks.

“Not without— Harming the body,” Doctor Orwell warns.

David doesn’t like the sound of that.

“We’re not doing anything that hurts David,” Lenny says, firmly. She gives David a reassuring smile.

“Perhaps this connection idea has potential,” Oliver says. “Let me see.” He reaches above David’s head and—

“Oh!” Cary yelps. “I felt that! Tell him I felt that.”

“Um,” David starts. “Cary felt that.”

“Excellent,” Oliver says, and then—“

“Oh!” Kerry yelps. “That was weird.”

“Kerry felt that,” David says, before she yells at him again.

“Hold still,” Oliver says, and traces two invisible lines with his fingers, first in the air over David’s head, and then along his body, from head to chest and then stopping over his navel.

“Sneaky,” Oliver declares, almost admiringly. “Anchored to his third and seventh chakras. This is quite the pickle.”

“Can you separate them?” Ptonomy asks.

“Possibly,” Oliver says. “But psychic surgery should not be done lightly.”

“You can’t just— Go to the astral plane and like, yank em free?” Lenny asks.

“Easier to plant a tree than dig one up,” Oliver replies. “I’d prefer all three of them unharmed.”

“Agreed,” Ptonomy says. “Let’s stabilize the situation first. Karies? Catch us up. And, ah, keep it simple, for David’s sake.”

“We woke up on the astral plane,” Cary says, and David relays. “We found a way into David’s dreams, but he didn’t recognize us.”

“Hey, he’s still young,” Kerry says. She peers at him. “Why are you young?”

David just stares at her.

“Maybe this is another dream?” Kerry asks.

“I shouldn’t think so,” Cary says. “David, please ask them to explain why you’re young.”

David doesn’t like this but— “They want to know, uh— Why I’m— Young?”

Everyone looks at David. He doesn’t like it.

“Something’s wrong,” Cary says, worried. “Hold on, if— If this is— Similar to what happened to Amy and Lenny—“ His eyes go wide. “Oh no.”

“Oh no what?” Kerry asks. “Oh no what, Cary?”

“Our body,” Cary says, with horror. “Kerry, that’s— That’s not David’s body. It’s ours.”

“David?” Oliver says, concerned. “What are they saying?”

“I don’t—“ David starts. “I don’t know.”

“Why would David be in our body?” Kerry asks, upset. “Hey, where’s Dvd and Divad?”

David goes very still.

“Cary,” Oliver says, slowly. “I know how you enjoy figuring things out aloud, but perhaps— Don’t.”

David realizes suddenly that— They know. Melanie was right, they really have been lying to him all this time and whatever’s actually happening— They know but they don’t want to tell him. Because— It’s a trick?

“What do you want from me?” David asks, pleads. Maybe— Maybe they’re all just masks. Divad and Dvd and King and— Everyone. Maybe no one is real because they’re all the monster and this is just more torture because the torture never stopped.

It’s never going to stop. It’s never—

“We’re not the monster,” Oliver assures him.

David just stares at him. He doesn’t even have the strength to panic. What’s the point? If the monster wants to torture him, then nothing will ever stop it.

A few tears leak from David’s eyes, but it’s just— Grief because— He’s dead. He is. It doesn’t matter if he’s breathing. He’s been dead for years, but he kept pretending—

Everyone looks sad all of a sudden, but David doesn’t know why.

“I think you should wait outside,” Oliver tells them. “Lenny, please stay.”

“Like I was gonna leave,” Lenny scoffs.

“Let’s give them some space,” Cary tells Kerry. He takes her hand and leads her to the other side of the room. “Oh!” Cary startles, seeing— Himself, unconscious in the other bed. He reaches for himself, then turns away.

It’s better once the others are gone, but— It’s the same. David thinks of all the jail cells and hospitals he’s been in, and— The years of his life he spent just watching out of his own eyes, and— He’s been dead for so long. Was he ever alive?

“My family raised horses,” Oliver tells him. “Strong, mighty beasts but— Fragile. Easy to hurt. You can’t raise a healthy horse with cruelty. Perhaps that’s why my family was so kind.”

Oliver takes a tissue and dabs away David’s tears. He takes the water from the bedside table and dips his fingers in it, strokes David’s brow, wets his lips. It’s— Soothing.

“You’ve spent your whole life being torn apart,” Oliver continues, gently. “I know the pain you’re feeling is—“ He pauses. “I don’t think there’s a word for it except— Everything. Yes?”

David swallows.

“Yes,” Oliver agrees. “But here you are.”

“No,” David sobs, tightly. He’s not here. He’s nothing. He’s dead.

“Oh, David,” Cary says, heartbroken. Kerry hugs him.

“There’s a monster who doesn’t want that pain to ever stop,” Oliver says. “He lived inside me for— A very long year. I was— Saved, I think, because I was already too ill to engage with what he did to me. I felt as though I didn’t really exist. And it didn’t matter what happened to someone who didn’t exist.”

Oliver looks to Lenny, and they share some wordless understanding. Then he turns back to David.

“The monster took you, just as he took me,” Oliver says. “As he took others. Lenny, Amy, Melanie. He took— Everything he possibly could, but it’s still not enough. He has a black hole for a heart. Ravenous.”

He pauses, wets David’s lips again. David licks, automatically, and realizes how thirsty he is. Oliver gives him a little more, a little more.

David breathes. He feels— A little calmer. Oliver’s— soothing, somehow, even though— David’s too tired to understand him.

“Just rest,” Oliver hushes. He takes a damp washcloth and wipes David’s face, his neck. “All healing begins with rest.”

And then Oliver opens the restraints, one at a time. He wipes the damp cloth over David’s forearms, where the scars should be. There’s bruises there now, fresh and mottling. If David didn’t feel so weak, he’d fight this, but— He’s so tired of fighting.

The ankles are next, and then the head restraint. It’s— upsetting to not be held down. He knows he’ll hurt himself again.

“Ah,” Oliver says, softly. “You do want to live.”

David whines and curls up, away from Oliver.

“I know,” Oliver soothes. He pets David’s arm, steady, easy. Lets his hand rest, holding.

And then— “Tell me something that would make you happy.”

“Being dead,” David mutters.

Oliver chuckles. “What else?”

David doesn’t want to be happy. Happy is just— What happens before he hurts again. But it’s hard not to think of it, once he’s been asked.

He thinks of the garden. Of— Gardens. Quiet and green and cool. Ripe, red tomatoes, and Mom—

It hurts, thinking about her. It’s hurt for so long. Everything has hurt for so long.

“What else makes you happy?” Oliver asks.

Amy. More tears leak out. He lost Amy and got her back and lost her and— He sobs against the pillow, trembles.

He’s turned away, but he hears the door open and close. Footsteps and then— Amy.

“Hey,” she says softly, leaning into view.

David starts crying inconsolably. Amy takes him in her arms, and he clings to her, bawling.

“I’m here,” Amy soothes.

It feels like her. Even if she’s not real and she lied to him— He needs her.

He cries himself out in her arms.

“Amy,” David sobs. He missed her. He missed her for years. Why didn’t she know he was gone? No one knew he was gone. No one cared. He died and they didn’t grieve. They were happy.

“I didn’t know,” Amy says, pained. “I’m so sorry, Davey. I’m so sorry.”

She eases him back and slides into bed with him. She holds him and he clings to her, breathing, breathing.

He dozes off, and when he wakes, Cary and Kerry are gone.

Chapter 162: Day 14: A way to disconnect from your trauma. (David)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy, Doctor Orwell, and Amy step out of the infirmary and see them sitting on the floor, curled around their knees, face wet with tears. Amy starts for them, but Ptonomy stops her, shakes his head. Amy nods, and Ptonomy helps them up and half-carries them away from the infirmary.

They end up— In the research lab and then— The room behind it. There’s cots. One of the research team is asleep in one, but the rest are empty. Ptonomy lays them down on one, and Divad recognizes it’s the one their body was in last night.

Another intense wave of grief and pain hits them, and they sob. Ptonomy holds their hand and they grip it tightly. The feeling gets worse and then— Finally eases, softened with— The barest relief, a strong yearning, and love.

Amy,” they gasp.

And then the worst is finally over. They slump with relief and release their death-grip on Ptonomy’s hand. They breathe, breathe.

Oliver’s right. The pain Past David feels is so absolute it’s just— Everything. And that’s— What David felt, before Farouk took so much away from him. That pain wasn’t eating him alive, it had— Already digested him.

Ptonomy stays with them while they recover, then helps them sit up. “Davids?” he finally asks.

David peels himself away from his headmates and stands, unsteady. Dvd follows him out and wobbles to his feet, and then both of them sit down on the next cot.

That was the longest they’ve been awake and together since all this started, but they needed it. God, they needed it. David could have stayed inside even longer but— He still can’t control their body while they're sharing without-- So he just— Lets himself be held. When he’s drowning in Past David’s pain he needs that but—

The pain’s fading now. He can tell— The part of himself in the infirmary is falling asleep in Amy’s arms.

Divad turns to sit facing them, and Ptonomy sits next to him. Doctor Orwell returns, speaks to her team about— Kerry and Cary, chakras and entangled souls. There’s a flurry of typing and flipped pages as they get to work.

And then, finally, Oliver. It’s so strange to see him focused, clear-eyed.

"He should be all right for a bit," Oliver says. He looks around at the Davids. "How are you holding up?"

All three of them give him the same expression.

"Ah," Oliver says, understanding. "That's to be expected." He pulls over a chair and sits down. 'I'm afraid we need to discuss what's next. And I suggest we do it through the mainframe.'

'Agreed,' Ptonomy says, his voice coming in through the mainframe link. 'David, can you relay for Dvd and Divad?’

'Of course,' David thinks.

'Fuck the shit beetle,' Dvd thinks, his clenched jaw jumping with anger.

'Received,' Oliver replies. "And agreed. I'd like Amy and Lenny to be part of this as well.'

'We're tuned in,' Lenny says, over the link.

'All right,' Ptonomy says. He takes a deep breath, lets it out. 'Let's do a quick assessment first. We've had a lot thrown at us this morning. The Melanie situation's under control. Davids, you did a fantastic job with her.'

'We need to do a scan to check her for brain damage,' Divad says. 'Then we'll know if her body still has her real memories.'

'I'll add it to the list,' Ptonomy says. 'In the short term, we need to continue what you and Syd started. We need her to accept that the life she remembers isn't real.'

'I'll take over from Syd when we're done,' Oliver says.

'Great,' Ptonomy says. 'That brings us to Melanie's message. Farouk sent her to deliver two messages to Past David. Thanks to Syd he only heard one of them.'

'He knows this isn't the hospital,' Lenny says. 'That we've been lying to him.'

'He does,' Ptonomy agrees.

'Maybe we should have told him the truth from the start,' Amy says, regret in her voice. 'This hurt him so much.'

'It was always gonna hurt him,' Dvd says, unhappily. 'If we'd told him right away, he just would've-- Gone away. For days, maybe weeks.'

‘Yeah,' Divad says. 'At least this way he's got Lenny and Amy.'

'Barely,' Lenny mutters.

'Lenny's got a point,' Ptonomy admits. 'That trust was fragile to begin with, and now we need to heal it. If we'd told him the truth from the start, it would've taken longer to get through to him, but we wouldn't have been this vulnerable.'

'Didn't your models warn you about that?' Divad thinks.

'They did,' Ptonomy says. 'And we made the choice we did because soothing Past David was and is a high priority. If he suffers, his whole system suffers.'

'We can't lie to him anymore,’ David thinks. ‘Not even half-truths.'

'Farouk took that option away from us,' Ptonomy says. 'Davids, when Past David is ready-- I think it's time to bring the four of you together.'

'He still thinks we're the monster,' Dvd says.

'And he won't change his mind until we show him that we're not,' Divad counters. 'Besides, right now he thinks everyone's the monster. Maybe-- That'll make it easier?'

'Or harder,' Dvd says.

'It's going to take time,' Ptonomy says. 'Farouk pushed that idea hard for months. Our best shot might be to just focus on the two Davids. David, he does perceive you differently from your headmates.'

'He does,' David agrees. 'Not that he wants to think about me either. He avoids it.'

'Eh, he avoids thinking about everything,' Lenny says. 'That's such a you thing to do.'

It doesn't matter that she's right, David wants to give Lenny a look for that. Too bad she's not in the room.

'I'll talk to him,' David decides. 'Maybe-- I can get through to him like I did Melanie.' As long as he has Dvd and Divad helping him--

'We'll do it together,' Divad promises. David feels Divad's love, and after everything-- It's as soothing as Dvd's love, even when they're not sharing their body.

'Which brings us to the Karies,' Ptonomy says. 'Oliver?'

'Yes,' Oliver says. He shifts in his seat. 'Obviously this is a delicate situation. I'll need to confer with Doctor Orwell and her team. But I believe we'll be able to separate the Karies' soul from David's. The problem is where to put it.'

'The mainframe?' Amy offers.

'An option,' Oliver allows. 'But that would only be a temporary measure. Kerry and Cary, like the three of you, need to be restored to their actual bodies. And as long as Farouk has the gene gun, we have no way to do that.'

'Actually-- We do,' Ptonomy says. 'The Admiral's had several new ones built, in absolute secret. We have recent DNA samples, and living bodies have been-- Obtained for us. Donated from hospital brain deaths.'

David and his headmates all straighten with surprise.

'Since when?' Dvd asks, mildly outraged.

'We couldn't risk telling you until the crown was off,' Ptonomy says. 'No one else can know, not even Syd and Doctor Orwell. Farouk would stop at nothing to find those resources and destroy them.'

David feels such intense relief it makes him a little faint. 'Then-- You'll be okay? You and Amy and Lenny?'

'We'll all be okay,' Ptonomy promises, warmly. 'But we can't be moved to those new bodies until we stop Farouk.'

'Excellent,' Oliver declares. 'Then once your souls are disentangled, everyone can be restored.'

'But what would that do to David?' Divad asks. 'If we put Past David and David back together--'

Everyone looks at David. He doesn't like it.

'That's a bad idea,' Dvd decides, arms crossed. 'That is an absolutely terrible idea.'

'We can't leave them apart,' Divad says.

'And we can't let Farouk's mind-fucks take him over,' Dvd says, certain. 'Let's be real. It's gonna take forever to change Past David's mind. But we have another choice.'

'No,' Divad says, firmly. 'We're not erasing him.'

'But we could,' Dvd says. 'Syd was right. We wipe out those dream memories and all this Amahl bullshit goes away.'

'Does it?' Oliver asks. 'It seems quite likely that on some level, those feelings of attachment will persist. After all, that's how David remembered you.'

Dvd stares at Oliver, stricken. Then he shakes it off. 'No. Even if he has some vague feeling about Farouk, that's not gonna be enough when David actually remembers that Farouk is the monster.'

'A fair point,' Oliver accepts.

'Either way, I can't remove those memories until Past David is back in our body,' Divad says.

'David, how do you feel about this?' Ptonomy asks. 'Those are your memories. They were your dreams. Past David is you.'

David starts to answer, stops. 'I don't know,' he admits. He wants to be whole but-- Despite what he said to Syd last night-- 'His pain is-- Unbearable. Maybe erasing the dream memories will help that but--'

Divad and Dvd exchange glances. They look at David. 'Even without the dreams-- You were broken,' Divad admits.

'You were deeply traumatized,' Ptonomy corrects. 'And that's not a small consideration. That extra twenty years of trauma-- You don't deserve to have to carry that.'

'But I want to remember,' David thinks, frustrated. 'I need to. And-- Farouk knows that I need to.'

'You think this is the choice he wants you to make?' Ptonomy asks.

'It has to be,' David thinks. 'My memories are right there.' He gestures in the direction of the infirmary. 'I can feel what he feels, what I feel. I want to be whole, I want to be me.'

'You are you,' Ptonomy says.

'But I'm not,' David says, unhappily. 'I am but-- I'm like-- Oliver in the ice cube. I'm sick. I'm broken. I'm full of memories that aren't real, that are just-- Delusions the monster put inside me.'

'David,' Amy says, worried.

'David,' Dvd says, reaching for him.

'Don't,' David thinks, pulling away. He feels worse for it, but-- He just--

'Okay,' Ptonomy soothes. 'So what we need is-- A way for all your memories to be inside you, but-- Without them overwhelming you. Right?'

'Right,' David thinks, as though that’s even possible.

'Which is exactly what dissociation is for,' Ptonomy says. 'Remember? It's a way to disconnect from your trauma.'

'But Past David isn't a separate identity,' Divad points out. 'He's just-- David in two bodies at once.'

‘What if we can turn Past David into a separate identity?' Ptonomy says.

'How?' Divad asks.

'By separating Past David's memories from his soul,' Ptonomy says. 'We use the amplification tank, and your powers, maybe Oliver helping out. We move the memories from Past David into David, but-- When the memories come in, you refuse them. You reject them, dissociate from them. That's what systems do with trauma. That's what your system does. It makes fragments.'

'Yes,' Divad says, realizing. 'It was always-- The healthy parts breaking off, but-- It should work.'

'Then Past David-- Would actually become Past David?' Dvd asks.

'We're dealing with twenty-one years of trauma,' Ptonomy says. 'It's more likely that we'll end up with dozens of fragments, maybe hundreds. At least at first. Your system tends to-- Pull itself back together. In most high-population systems, there are alters whose job it is to manage the rest. Caretakers. In the short term, you could take on that role, guide the new fragments the way you guided all the fragments David made.'

'And once everything's moved over-- Oliver puts our soul back together,' Divad says. 'David wouldn't be changed but-- As a system, we'd be whole.' He smiles. 'Ptonomy, that's genius.'

'Okay,' Dvd says, considering. 'Okay, I like it.'

'David?' Ptonomy prompts.

'So I'd-- Get all my memories back,' David thinks. 'Including the new ones. But they'd be-- Fragments I could-- Fuse with?'

'If that's what you want,' Ptonomy says. 'But you could also allow them to be separate. Your system chose fusion as a protective measure, but the inside of your head is a safe place now. Farouk can't get to it. You can work through that trauma at your own pace, and fuse only when you're actually ready for it. Or let the fragments become full identities in their own right. Headmates.'

'But-- There could be dozens of them,' David thinks. 'Would that even be safe?'

'It would probably be a good idea to put the crown back on for a while,' Ptonomy admits. 'Just until your system calms down.'

'That fucking crown,' Dvd mutters.

'It would only be temporary,' Ptonomy promises. 'I know you're worried about Division 3 not taking it off again, but I won't allow that to happen and neither will Oliver.'

'Or me,' Lenny adds.

'Or me,' Amy agrees. 'Or the Admiral. And I'm sure Syd won't either, or Melanie, or Cary or Kerry.'

'What about Clark?' Dvd challenges.

'It's not up to Clark,' Ptonomy says. 'We're the ones with the remote now. He gave it to us, said he didn't want to be a target.' He smiles. 'I think it's his version of a peace offering.'

'I think he realizes-- He has the choice to be a better person,' Amy says.

'Whatever,' Dvd says, rolling his eyes.

'The reality is, your soul will need to reunite no matter what,' Ptonomy says. 'This way we have control. We manage your trauma. We preserve you, David, as you are now. And you can choose to take back those original memories if and when you're ready to have them.'

'And we can erase all the Amahl bullshit,' Dvd adds.

'If that's what your system agrees to do,' Ptonomy says. 'You don't have to remember if you don't want to remember. Just like with that video Syd had. You have the choice to say no.'

David lets out a long breath. 'That's-- A lot.'

'It is,' Ptonomy agrees. 'But the models haven't found a better, safer choice. And Farouk doesn't know. He's running out of moves to make. If he shows himself, he knows we'll go after him, and he knows we're stronger than him. If he was counting on you letting yourself merge with Past David, if that was his sunrise, then he's already lost.'

God, David wants to believe that.

He turns to Dvd and Divad, and-- They give him encouraging looks.

'Will we be able to-- Handle all those fragments?' David asks them.

'It's gonna be a ride,' Dvd admits. 'But they're all-- You. We're uh, kind of experts on handling you.'

Divad snorts. Then Dvd snorts.

David rolls his eyes. He turns to Oliver.

'It does seem the ideal solution,' Oliver says.

'Lenny? Amy?' David thinks.

'Let's do this thing,' Lenny says. 'You belong to yourself. You're strong enough to heal.'

'I want you to be whole,' Amy says, heartfelt. 'Even if there's a thousand Davids, I'll love all of them.'

David can't help but smile at that. 'Maybe not that many?'

Amy gives a soft laugh.

David takes another deep breath, lets it out. 'I don't-- Remember all the fragments,' he admits.

'You remember me,' Divad says. 'Rational David.'

'I liked him,' David thinks, fondly. 'He was nice. Uh, you were nice.'

Divad smiles. 'So just-- think of it like that. We're just gonna make-- A whole lot of Rational Davids.'

'Except-- We'll be their Rational Davids,' Dvd says. ''Cause they'll be the Davids who are freaking out.'

'But no one will be in any coffins,' Divad says, clearly trying to be reassuring.

Everyone waits, expectant.

'Okay,' David sighs. 'It sounds-- Terrifying, but-- Yes. Let's do it.'

'All right!' Divad says, grinning.

'You made the right choice,' Ptonomy assures him. 'Okay. So we've got a plan. Oliver's going to help Melanie and prepare for the psychic surgery. Davids, see what you can do to help Past David accept you. We want to try to make some positive memories and feelings before the transfer. Ideally we want your whole system to agree to this procedure. It should be his choice as well as yours.'

'We'll try,' Divad promises.

'We'll also need to move back to the lab, since that’s where the amplification tank is,’' Ptonomy continues. 'Amy and I will need to prepare for that. Farouk took that ground, but it's time we took it back.'

'Yes,' David agrees, strongly. 'I miss the lab. Both of me.'

'I'm sure,' Ptonomy says. 'There is one more thing. We can't let Farouk know about the gene guns. We have to continue acting like we need the one he has. We need to behave with that motivation.'

'What does that mean?' David asks.

'It means-- We need you to make a show of needing the gun,' Ptonomy says. 'Farouk has taken the bodies of-- Almost everyone you care about. Me, Lenny, Amy, Cary, Kerry. Without the gun, we can't be whole. Syd would be our only way to avoid succumbing to detachment syndrome and forgetting you and ourselves. I know how painful that would be for you.'

'Extremely,' David admits.

'Obviously it makes sense for your primary focus to be on your system and Syd, and also on Oliver and Melanie. But when you focus on Kerry and Cary, that's going to remind you about the gun. Farouk is watching, listening. Send him an angry message, challenge him to return it. Let's see what he does.'

'Lure him out,' Dvd realizes. 'Yeah, I like it. We're finally ahead of him.'

'We are,' David agrees and feels-- Stunned by that. It felt impossible to ever get ahead of Farouk but-- They're actually doing it. And they have Oliver back, and they're helping Melanie, and-- And everyone's going to be okay. They really are.

And-- He doesn't have to give up-- Who he is now-- To get back who he used to be.

'Thank you,' David thinks, deeply grateful. 'For all of this.'

'We're not out of the woods yet,' Ptonomy says, but he's pleased. 'Now let's get to work.'

Chapter 163: Day 14: Physician, heal thyself. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

Oliver pauses outside the door. Melanie, he thinks, with a depth of understanding that eluded him for-- Far too long.

Melanie, Melanie, Melanie--

Melanie Justine Origen Bird.

Holy the supernatural extra brilliant intelligent kindness of the soul!

The poem fragment catches his breath, and he focuses on it, remembers its whole. Ginsberg's Footnote to Howl. The world is holy! The soul is holy! The skin is holy! The nose is holy! The tongue and cock and hand and asshole holy!

It was always Melanie's soul that he loved most.

He braces himself and walks inside, smiles. "Hello," he says, to Syd and Melanie.

'That man,' Melanie thinks, surprised. 'That's-- Oliver?'

Oliver works to keep his smile from fading. This pain in his heart will pass, he trusts that. And perhaps-- There's poetry here, as she loved him, reached for him, when he couldn't remember her.

"Oliver," Syd greets, and he feels her relief. She's been doing the hard work of coaxing Melanie back to them. Telling her the story of their lives, just as Cary did for him. Giving her-- Context, even if it still holds little meaning for her.

Context is the beginning of knowledge.

Melanie looks at him with wide, uncertain eyes. He feels her fear, shock, grief, and a small, delicate trill of hope.

"Do you remember me, Melanie?" Oliver asks, gently.

"No," Melanie admits. "Sorry, I'm-- All of this is-- Very strange." 'I wish I could hear his thoughts. I wish I could-- Make sense of all this.'

"It's all right," Oliver soothes. "Syd, may I?" He gestures as her chair.

"Of course," Syd says, and stands. She glances at the door. "Should I-- Leave you two alone?"

"Wait, please," Melanie says, a tremble in her voice. 'She's my daughter. Why can't I remember?'

"Okay," Syd soothes. "I'll go get another chair? David's the only one who can just think things into existence. I'll be right back." She gives Melanie a reassuring smile, then heads out.

Oliver hears Syd pause outside the door, taking the opportunity to catch her breath and collect herself. He turns his attention back to Melanie. Her hands are clasped tightly together in her lap. She glances at the photo on the table -- next to the notebook, the photo album -- then back at Oliver.

"Ah," Oliver says, and picks up the photo. The memory comes back to him, strong and clear. "That was the evening I realized-- I'd never forgive myself if I didn't ask you to marry me."

"Oh," Melanie says, soft and surprised. "I'm-- Sorry I can't--" She shakes her head. "None of this is familiar to me."

"Of course," Oliver says. "I understand completely. Healing takes time."

"Yes," Melanie says, relieved and-- There's recognition of a kind. "That's-- What I always tell my patients. But you know how it is. Doctors make the worst patients."

"We do," Oliver agrees, wholehearted.

The door opens and Syd returns with her chair. Oliver feels a wave of relief from Melanie.

"Oliver," Melanie says. "Can you-- Tell me how David is?"

"He's resting," Oliver says, and focuses on Past David's shocky, devastated thoughts. "Amy and Lenny are taking him to the garden."

"Good," Melanie says, relieved again. "Good, that-- It should help." 'David always feels better in the garden. I wish I could-- See him, talk to him.'

"You'd like to see him?" Oliver asks.

"Please," Melanie says. "He's-- Very fragile." 'He needs me, he needs Amahl, he--' Her thoughts cut off with a wave of confusion. 'Amahl can't be the monster. He can't be.'

"I think-- It would be good for you to be together," Oliver says, and Melanie perks up. "But we must protect him from the monster. From Amahl Farouk."

Melanie pulls in on herself, frowning. "I don't know-- What you think you're going to achieve, telling me that. He's my husband."

"You're certain of that?" Oliver asks.

"Of course," Melanie insists. "I did what Syd asked. I wrote down my whole life, everything I remember. And yes, there are-- Gaps, but--" She shakes her head. "I remember my husband very clearly."

"They met in China," Syd says, giving Oliver a meaningful look.

"Ah," Oliver says, understanding. Easier to tweak what was already there than start from scratch. To replace one face, one name with that of another, sliding in as though they had always been there. But he wonders-- "Did your husband ever-- Abandon you?"

"Of course not," Melanie says, upset at the mere suggestion. "Our work often kept us apart, we each had our own lives, but-- We were always there for each other."

Ah. Farouk's ego would never tolerate Melanie's mistrust. And such realities of life would only get in the way of his manipulation of David.

"I'm afraid I was never so perfect," Oliver admits. "Did Syd tell you about it?"

"Yes," Melanie says. "You got lost on the astral plane. They had to-- Freeze your body."

"You had to," Oliver corrects. "I'd like to apologize for-- Well, the last twenty-two years. Obviously I never intended to-- Lose myself, but-- It was my choice to refuse your help. To seek-- The solace of self-negation. That was wrong. I'm sorry."

Melanie glances at Syd, then looks back to Oliver.

"And I was-- Often selfish," Oliver continues. "I could get so-- Passionate about my work, my abilities, that I neglected you. I took your love and support for granted. Perhaps-- Because you were human, I believed-- You could never truly understand me. And so I never gave you the chance."

"I'm a mutant," Melanie says, automatically. "I mean-- I know my-- Powers aren't working, but--" 'How did David have powers? No that-- Wasn't David, it was-- God, I don't know what to think.'

"Yes," Oliver says, with a wry smile. "You understand me very well now, I imagine. My perspective. What it's like to be-- A powerful mutant trying to-- Save those who need the most saving. That was your life, as Melanie Farouk. You heard their pain and devoted yourself to it."

Melanie looks at her notebook. 'I didn't show him that.'

"No, you didn't," Oliver answers, and Melanie startles. "I'm sure Syd told you about my powers. The same ones you experienced in David's dreams."

Melanie crosses her arms. "You think the monster tricked me, like it tricked David?"

"And how did he do that?" Oliver asks.

"The monster made him-- Think he had powers," Melanie says. "He would-- Think he was hearing people's thoughts, but-- It was the monster hearing them, sharing them with David." Oliver can feel her uncertainty grow, even as her voice grows more confident. "David's not a mutant. He doesn't have powers, it was just-- A trick. An illusion."

"The monster's very good at those," Oliver agrees. "Do you think we're the monster?"

"You're with the Divisions," Melanie says, anger rising. "However bad the monster is, you're worse."

"The Divisions," Oliver echoes, with a sigh. "Yes, they were-- Why I left you behind. The suffering they caused, the grief and pain. They had no idea what that did to me, but if they had-- They would have been delighted."

"Then why are you helping them?" Melanie presses. "If you're a mutant, then you know what they are. Help me stop them."

"I don't need to," Oliver says. "David already did. Or at least-- He made them change their approach. It's still a work in progress, of course. Did Syd tell you about Cary's dream?"

Melanie's brow furrows. "Cary's-- The scientist? Who shares his body?"

Oliver can't help but smile fondly. "Yes, that's him. He has a dream of a better world, one accepting of such differences as mutations and-- Atypical minds."

'Like Amahl's dream?' Melanie thinks.

"He doesn't think of it as his," Oliver continues. "He tends to see himself as-- A supporter. An enabler of someone else's dream. Like you."

Melanie scoffs. "I have plenty of my own dreams."

"You always have," Oliver says, certain. "As has Cary. And yet--" He pauses. "Looking back on my life, I see that-- I took great pride in being-- An inspirational figure. Too much, I think. When I needed help myself--" He trails off again. "When we met, I fell in love with your soul. The kindness in it. But then I wouldn't let you be kind to me."

'What is this story he wants me to believe?' Melanie thinks. "I'm sorry, but-- If you really are my husband, why on earth would I want you back?"

"Perhaps you won't," Oliver admits. "But I'd like for us to have the chance to-- Try again."

Melanie gives him an extremely skeptical look. Oliver tries not to let it sting too much. After everything he put her through, her decades of waiting for him to return, he deserves her skepticism.

"Cary's dream," Oliver says, getting back on track. "Perhaps you'd like to help him with it. Our work here is-- Something of a trial run. Humans and mutants living together, helping each other. Trying to help the world."

Despite her resistance, Melanie is definitely interested. "You're telling me that Division 3 is-- Trying to integrate humans and mutants?"

"Essentially, yes," Oliver says. "The-- Genocide option-- Was taken off the table. We're presenting them with an alternative that will be beneficial for everyone."

"And they're just accepting it?" Melanie challenges.

"Oh, they're not happy about it at all," Oliver admits, cheerfully. "But the Divisions are-- Devoted to humanity's survival, at any cost. They've come to realize that is dependent on the survival of mutantkind."

Melanie straightens. "You mean they lost."

"They lost," Oliver agrees. "There are-- Too many of us now, with too much power. They see us as gods, but-- That's simply-- Another way of erasing our humanity. Treating us as other, as alien, instead of-- Their family, neighbors. Different, yes, but-- We are all different, powers or not."

"Yes," Melanie agrees, and there's a gleam in her eyes, a passion that's so familiar. It's almost like looking in a mirror. "Our differences should be-- Celebrated, not erased or shamed. And not reasons to hunt us down and--" She stops, briefly surging with anger.

"No," Oliver agrees, softly. He feels that anger as his own. Maybe it's just Melanie's real anger, she suffered all the same deaths as him, and twenty one years more. But either way, he knows it. "You don't remember, but-- We promised 'never again.' After the war. We thought to save others, but then-- We had to save ourselves."

"I remember," Melanie says, soberly. "I told Amahl. He supported me, of course." 'But he never-- I always wished he would-- Believe in my dream. His was so close to mine, but-- I never wanted to-- Make our differences-- Irrelevant.'

Irrelevant? Interesting. Oliver flags Melanie's thought as he relays it to the mainframe.

"How does it work?" Melanie asks. "This-- Trial run?"

"The structure is-- Communal mental health," Oliver explains. "With a focus on telepathy. Telepathic therapy allows for-- An in-depth understanding of the central patient's trauma."

"Yes," Melanie agrees, with another passionate gleam. "It's incredibly effective over traditional talk therapy. When did you develop it?"

"I didn't," Oliver said. "You did."

Melanie tilts her head.

"I'd always been-- Interested in helping people, of course," Oliver says. "But you had a passion for psychotherapy. Once you learned about my powers, you saw their potential."

"So you're saying, this-- Trial run," Melanie says. "It's based on-- My work?"

"It wouldn't exist without you," Oliver says, honestly. "I'm sure Syd told you about Summerland?"

"Yes," Melanie says, glancing at Syd again. "It was-- A safe haven for mutants?"

"We built it together," Oliver says. "You, me, Cary. I saw it as-- A place for us to gather, protect ourselves. But you saw that-- The mutants we saved needed more. They needed therapy, guidance. So that's what it became, even though-- You insisted the idea was mine." He smiles fondly, shakes his head. "You were so proud of me, you refused to be proud of yourself."

"I don't remember any of what you're telling me," Melanie says.

"The monster's work is fresh," Oliver says. "And you've only recently returned to your body. There are-- Connections that need time to heal."

Melanie sighs. 'Assuming any of that is true--' "So how can I help?" 'Never mind that I'm your prisoner.'

"We'd like your help with David," Oliver says. "And we'd like him to help you. Communal mental health."

Melanie gives him another skeptical look. Oliver feels perversely proud of how stubborn she is. But that was another reason he fell in love with her: her absolute, stubborn determination to do the right thing.

But how to help her see what the right thing actually is?

"Fine," Melanie says. "Let me see him."

"We would," Oliver says. "But you're not ready. You need to accept that Amahl Farouk is the monster."

"Never," Melanie says, certain.

Oliver sighs. "Yes, I thought you'd say that. I'd like to show you something. Syd, may I use your tablet?"

"Of course," Syd says.

Oliver picks it up from the table and opens it, taps through the videos. "We don't have much video evidence of Amahl Farouk's crimes. He has a tendency to wear masks of other people's faces. But-- Here."

He taps on a video and it starts playing. "Stay away from David," Syd's voice warns, as she appears on the screen, in a hallway of Division 3. Amahl is standing next to her.

Melanie glances at Syd, and Syd gives her an encouraging nod.

On the screen, Amahl chuckles. "My dear, there is no reason for such hostility. We want the same thing, for David to get better. What is it he said, David? It's no fun breaking what is already broken."

'What is this?' Melanie thinks. 'It must be a trick.'

Screen Syd glares at Amahl. "That was Dvd, not David."

"Ah, then you have decided to feed his delusion, his madness," Amahl says, with mock pity. "Do you not want to cure his sickness?"

"Dvd and Divad are how he survived being infected by you," Screen Syd shoots back.

'The DID,' Melanie thinks. 'But Dvd and Divad-- They tortured David. Why--'

Amahl raises a finger. "Ah, but you yourself know he did not survive. They told you, the ones you saved. His sister, his best friend. His mind shattered into fragments. He hung himself. He yearned for death as he yearns for it now. He strains for it with all his heart, but I deny him. David is only alive because that is what I want. I am his god."

Screen Syd takes a step back, visibly revolted.

"It's true, he's too broken to play with," Amahl continues. "Do you think this is the first time that has happened? So I rest. I let him struggle to put himself back together. And if he can't?" He waves his hand. "A simple matter to make him forget. These fragments of him that fool themselves, thinking they are someone else. Even they forget, when I wish them to, and they do not even remember forgetting."

He steps forward, and screen Syd takes another step back.

"You destroyed a beautiful sunrise," Amahl says, all menace now. "A marble sculpture revealed by my chisel. But David is clay. He is pliant, always ready to be shaped again to my will." He tilts his head. "So please, heal his tortured soul. Put him back together. Make him whole for me. Take your time, I insist. I am a very patient man."

And then he vanishes.

Screen Syd falls back against the wall. She slides down to the floor and sobs, her hand over her mouth. The video ends.

'God, Syd, what,' Melanie thinks. "What is this?" she demands.

"The monster," Syd says, and there's a hollow in her voice. "Amahl Farouk, the Shadow King."

"Is this real?" Melanie asks her, looking right into Syd's eyes.

"Yes," Syd says, plainly. "This was-- Ten days ago."

"A week ago Amahl was with me, in the lab," Melanie insists. 'Except if it's true-- There was no lab. But we were there for months. I remember being there. It felt just as real as-- Being here now.'

"There's more," Oliver says. "Five days later. Ptonomy confronted Farouk, challenged him in order to-- Secure his permission for David's treatment. He sees himself as David's father, you understand. That David belongs to him."

He plays the video for her, and she watches, in rapt horror, as Amahl and Ptonomy exchange verbal parries, and Farouk gloats about killing Ptonomy. Amahl declares himself god, David's god, and sneers at love, and again promises to mold David into whatever shape he desires.

While she's watching, Oliver sends a request to Ptonomy over the mainframe link. Ptonomy agrees.

"This is not my husband," Melanie insists, upset.

"No, he's not," Oliver agrees.

Melanie sits back, turns away. "I don't have to listen to this."

"No," Oliver agrees. "But the Melanie I remember never shied away from the truth, no matter how terrible. She would walk into any danger if it meant she could save someone. That's what you've always done. I don't think anything could take that part of you away."

Oliver turns to Syd. "Syd, would you mind if I give this to Melanie? Ptonomy's moved your files to a new tablet."

"It's fine," Syd agrees.

Oliver offers Melanie the tablet, and she warily takes it. "These are all our files on Amahl Farouk and David Haller. And Ptonomy is adding the material we have on you. It's not typical, giving a patient their own files, but-- I think we can agree you're not a typical patient." He quirks a smile.

Melanie taps on the screen, skimming the folders. "If you don't trust me, why are you giving me this?"

"Because you're one of the best therapists I know," Oliver says, allowing his pride in her to show. "Physician, heal thyself."

Melanie gives him an uncertain look, but settles in with the tablet.

"Would it be all right if Syd takes a break?" Oliver asks. He knows she needs one. "I'll stay here and keep you company. Answer any questions that pop up."

"Sure," Melanie says, already enrapt. She was always an intent reader. A truck could drive through the room and she wouldn't notice it.

'Thank you,' Syd thinks, letting her relief show.

'Go on,' Oliver thinks to her. 'If you need someone to be with-- I believe Clark is available.'

'Clark?' Syd asks, surprised, but-- He can feel that she likes the idea. 'Okay.' "I'll see you in a bit," Syd assures Melanie, and then heads out.

Chapter 164: Day 14: My brother is a robot. (Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

The elevator doors close and Ptonomy lets out a long and deeply felt sigh.

They're all going to be okay. That's what he told the Davids and he hopes it wasn't a lie. The odds are good. They're not as good as he'd like, they're not perfect, but they're probably as good as they're going to get.

David wants to be whole. Farouk has known that longer than anyone, and he's made a damn good play at deciding what whole means for David. But the game's not over yet. The models say if they can get this right, if they can get all of David's system back together and cooperating then--

Then Farouk won't be a problem anymore. Then they'll all be whole, Cary and Kerry, Lenny, Amy, himself. They'll be back in their real, human bodies. No more mainframe, no more detachment syndrome. No more fighting every day just to stay engaged, to stay himself. Being in his living body, existing in it-- He'll be himself without any effort at all.

The elevator door opens and he walks into the hall. A few steps and he reaches the now-familiar doors. He passes the first, knocks on the second. Mara's room.

The door opens and Bernie is there.

"Oh," Ptonomy says, surprised. He thought she'd be in the other room with dad. "I thought you'd be asleep." They were up all night with him again.

"And you thought she'd be awake?" Bernie asks, a challenge and a sisterly tease. She steps aside and gestures for Ptonomy to come in.

"Morning," Mara says. She's sitting at the small table with a mug of tea in her hands. "Or evening? Staying up all night's got me a little screwed up."

Bernie closes the door and then walks past Ptonomy, grabs the other mug from the table. "I'm getting a refill. You want some?" Then she pauses. "Uh, sorry."

"I'll take it plain," Ptonomy says. He can't drink it, but the heat of the mug, the smell of the steam-- He needs that right now. Like he needs to see Mara.

Bernie shrugs and grabs another mug.

"We were worried about you," Mara says. "Last time you left in a hurry you got blown up."

Ptonomy grimaces. "Not this time. But, uh-- I did get shot."

"You what?" Bernie says, upset.

"I'm okay," Ptonomy assures them. "Didn't even hurt. They patched me up good as new." He reflexively puts his hand over where Past David shot him, then drops it.

"Farouk?" Mara asks, soberly.

Ptonomy wants to laugh at that. As if Farouk would ever do anything as mundane as shooting him. "No, David again. Past David. He, uh, got loose, made a run for it. Found a gun." He wants to be light about it, for the whole thing to be as simple as patching up his android body was. But it's not.

"Tell me," Mara urges.

"Not much to tell," Ptonomy says. "He realized we were lying to him. I don't think he was even trying to shoot me, he just-- Panicked."

Bernie is not impressed. "What's that, the third time that man's got you killed?"

"I'm not dead," Ptonomy reminds her.

"If you'd been in your body and you got shot there?" Bernie points where Ptonomy put his hand. "Dead."

Ptonomy does not appreciate the reminder. He gives her a look, and Bernie gives him one right back. But she sighs, shakes her head, and turns away to finish making the tea.

"I'm fine," Ptonomy assures them. "And if I'm not fine-- That's what therapy's for, right?"

Mara gives him a look this time. "That why you came up? To tell us you're fine?"

"No," Ptonomy says, softly. "I just-- Needed to see you."

Mara softens at that. She reaches out her hand and he takes it. Her palm is still warm from the mug. Her pulse beats faintly against his thumb, and she feels so alive. He remembers holding her hand, holding her body. After he left her behind, he went back to those memories so many times.

Right now, those memories are just that. Memories he can recall, but not-- Vivid experiences he can live inside, over and over. But when he gets his body back, he'll get his powers back, too.

"Fair warning," Bernie says, as she stirs sugar into her tea. "If you ever let me meet this guy, I'm gonna have to lay him out."

"Thanks but-- Maybe not," Ptonomy says, amused. "You're gonna undo all my hard work."

"If he can't take a punch, how's he gonna save the world?" Bernie says. She puts the mugs on the table and then sits down, picks up hers.

Ptonomy declines to rise to the bait. He couldn't tell them much about his plan, since telling them would also be telling Farouk. Mara accepted it, but Bernie hates being out of the loop. She didn't become Major Bernice Wallace by being out of the loop.

He picks up his mug and feels the heat against his palms, breathes in the steam. Takes in the peace of the moment, sitting here with his sister and-- He's not sure what he and Mara are now. What they might be, once all this is over and he's not stuck inside the mainframe anymore. If they can somehow-- Make things work again. If she wants to try.

He's afraid to ask her. She has every right to say no, he's the one who walked away.

"Dad sleeping okay?" he asks, instead. Dad wasn't in great shape to begin with, but these long nights, the stress--

"Snoring away," Bernie assures him.

"Good," Ptonomy says. He loves his dad, and he's glad to see him again, but-- Dad's always been-- Hard to talk to. Not just because he's deaf in one ear and has a terrible memory. Not that Bernie's the easiest either. But that's why he came to Mara.

Bernie and Mara both give him expectant looks. For two women who are so different, their expectant looks are eerily similar. But Ptonomy's never been good at opening up without a push.

He reminds himself of David, for a moment, and it makes him smile.

"What's that about?" Mara asks.

"Nothing," Ptonomy says. "I just--" He leans back. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"So spill," Mara says, lightly. "Whatever's-- Safe to spill."

"That's not a lot," Ptonomy admits. But of course there's plenty, if he can get it out of himself. He meets Mara's eyes. He already apologized to her a few times. He thinks of David again, apologizing over and over.

He finds himself relating to David a lot lately. It makes sense. He had to get deep into David's head to figure out how to fix him, the same way Farouk did to break him. And it's not like their lives are that different. They both lost their mothers young, both had-- Difficulties with their powers, their families. Ptonomy had his own demons, giving him nightmares, torturing him. But they weren't other people just-- Other people's memories.

"Do you think I've-- Changed?" he asks.

"My brother is a robot," Bernie says, flatly.

"Aside from that," Ptonomy says, tolerantly. He looks to Mara, needing her reaction most.

Mara shrugs. "Sure, you're different. But it's been a few years, and-- Like she said. Things are kind of wild right now."

"Do you think I'm still the same person," Ptonomy presses.

"Do you want me to say yes or no?" Mara asks, uncertain.

Ptonomy hesitates. Shakes his head. "I dunno. Maybe both." He puts down the mug, rubs his face. "I've been thinking a lot about-- My choices. The things I didn't even know I was choosing. Who I want to be when--" He gestures at the room. "All this is over."

"Alive?" Bernie suggests.

"And then what?" Ptonomy asks. "I get my body back, I get my powers back. And that's--" He sighs. Mara accepted the reality of his powers before all this, but Bernie and Dad just thought he was crazy. "My powers are part of me, when I'm whole. But there were-- Ways I hurt myself with them. I lived in the past, refused to-- Let go of my pain." He forces himself to meet their eyes, see the recognition in them. "I don't want to go back to that."

Mara gives a soft laugh. "You know, I used to dream of you saying that."

"Yeah, yeah," Ptonomy says, shifting in his chair. Even if he's accepted that he needs to change, that he's ready to change-- It's still uncomfortable as hell seeing them confirm it. What was it Cary said to David, during the intervention? It's hard to reconcile the person you think you are with what everybody else sees. "I couldn't see it, before. That I was hurting."

"Yeah," Mara says, with a kind of-- Old sadness. "Guess that's different. You being honest with yourself."

"I'm trying," Ptonomy sighs.

"You are," Mara says, a little proud. "Keep that up, I think you'll be okay. Powers or no powers."

Ptonomy turns to Bernie.

"What are you looking at me for?" Bernie asks, defensive. "Sounds like you're doing fine."

"I am now," Ptonomy says, a little irritated. She knows how hard it's been for him without his body, that's the whole reason Division 3 brought them here. If it wasn't for Syd's powers, he probably wouldn't even care enough about them to be sitting here. "Look, I guess I'm asking-- When this is over-- I want us to be part of each other's lives again."

"You're the one who's always running away," Bernie says, tensing up.

"Because you and Dad never believed me," Ptonomy says, unable to keep from mirroring her anger. "I told you what was happening to me and you said I was crazy." Worse than crazy. He was unfit for duty.

Ptonomy's family didn't lock him up, but they locked him out. The military was their lives but it couldn't be his. Even after he got control over his powers and stopped stumbling into other people's memories-- For all that Ptonomy likes to think of himself as a soldier, a tactician, compared to them he was always playing pretend.

"Seeing other people's memories is crazy," Bernie says, curtly.

Ptonomy puts down the mug. "Mutant powers are real."

Bernie puts down her own mug and holds up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. Just be calm."

"Don't tell me to be calm," Ptonomy says, almost shouting, and-- He stops himself. Forget his powers, all it takes to be dragged backwards is an argument with his sister. "Look," he says, forcing himself to speak evenly. "You were briefed. Right?"

Bernie sighs. "Yeah. Look, I get it. Magic is real." She waves her hands, mocking.

Ptonomy glares at her. "This is why I didn't wanna talk to you about this. Mara always believed me."

"Oh no, don't drag me into this," Mara warns.

"Sorry," Ptonomy says, and turns back to Bernie. "Are you seriously telling me you still don't believe me?"

Bernie starts to reply, then falters. "Look, all this is-- It's even crazier than the stuff you used to come up with. I get that it's real, but I'm not gonna pretend I understand any of it. Psychic powers-- That's not how the world works."

"And you know how the world works," Ptonomy challenges.

"Damn right I do," Bernie says. "People's lives depend on me knowing how the world works."

"Right now, everyone depends on me knowing how the world works," Ptonomy shoots back. "Do you know how many scientific breakthroughs my team's made in the past week? Mutant powers have never been studied like this because people refused to accept they're real, or all they wanted to do was wipe us out. And now we're changing our understanding of-- Life itself."

"Maybe I'd be able to accept it if you actually let me in on this," Bernie says.

"Oh, I get it now," Ptonomy realizes. "You just don't like being sidelined."

"I can help," Bernie insists.

"You want to what, swoop in and save me?" Ptonomy says, more amused than angry. "Trust me, you do not want to get any closer to this than you already are. Hell, this is already too close."

"And you never let anyone help you," Bernie replies.

"You have no idea how dangerous this situation is," Ptonomy says, tightly. "Do you think I wanted you here?"

He regrets the words even as he says them.

Bernie's eyes narrow. "I came here to help save your life. But now you're good, huh?"

"Bernie," Ptonomy says, tiredly.

"No, you're right," Bernie says, backing down but not entirely. "Me and Dad, we didn't listen. And I can't speak for Dad, but-- I'm listening now, okay? But this is a lot. I've seen some weird shit out there but this is-- It's another level. But-- Yeah."

"Yeah?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yeah, I want us to be part of each other's lives again," Bernie says, and he can see she means it. "When you cut us off-- It hurt, okay? I know we had our troubles but you're my brother."

"Then trust me," Ptonomy pleads. "Believe me."

Bernie shakes her head. "I'm trying."

"I'd give you a demonstration if I could," Ptonomy says. "Not that it ever helped before."

"I said I'm sorry," Bernie defends.

"Look, the current situation-- It's under control," Ptonomy assures her. "But if you want to help-- Assuming we survive this, believe me, I'm gonna need all the help you can give. All this secrecy-- It's gonna end. But it's hard enough getting my own family to believe me."

"So what, you want me to convince the world?" Bernie asks, skeptical but intrigued.

"Hey, they say the best way to learn is to teach," Ptonomy jokes.

Bernie rolls her eyes. "Fine. If that's what you need, then I'm in."

"Just like that?" Ptonomy asks, surprised.

"Yeah," Bernie says, and offers him half a smile, and then a punch on the arm. Then she pulls back her hand and rubs it. "Damn robot."

"Android," Ptonomy corrects. But he's the one who's struggling to accept now. "I thought you'd be harder to convince."

"Hey, my brother died," Bernie says, strongly. "Screw your powers and screw our jobs. You get your body back and I'm not letting you out of my sight. And don't tell me you can take care of yourself, when-- Some monster ate you alive from the inside because no one was looking out for you."

Ptonomy goes very still.

"Ptonomy?" Mara calls, worried.

Ptonomy swallows, forces himself to move. "Sorry, uh-- Bad memories."

"You said-- You're working on that?" Mara says. "That new therapist?"

"Yeah," Ptonomy says, his voice rough. "I just--" He looks out the window, away from them. He wants to talk about it, but--

"Hey, it's okay," Mara soothes.

"No," Ptonomy says, still looking at the window, at the city, the buildings. "It's really not. But I can't--" He turns back to them, pleading for them to understand. "I have to get us through this."

"Command's a lot of pressure," Bernie says, soberly.

Ptonomy gives a short nod. He hates being vulnerable, hates being weak. He always has, but-- He knows denial isn't strength. He hated Dad and Bernie's denial. And so much of the past two weeks of therapy has been about breaking through David's denial about his illness, his system, his trauma. It feels absurd that Ptonomy's in denial, too, but-- That's just how people work. How everyone works.

"When the soul can survive the body's destruction, what does death even mean?" he asks, mostly rhetorically.

There's a pause, and then--

"So treat it like a-- Near death experience," Mara offers. "That's what it was, right? If they hadn't-- Saved your soul, then-- You'd be gone."

Ptonomy meets their eyes and sees the grief in them. No one told them what happened when it happened, because-- If he'd just died outright, they would have known what to do. Sent the usual letter, your brother died serving his country, blah blah blah. And if he survived then-- It would have been up to him to tell them or not.

But he didn't die and he didn't survive. He was-- What he still is now. Something different, outside the categories people understand. He's not-- Neat and clean. Any more than David was, and is, no matter how stable he becomes.

"It was, um-- I didn't really-- Know what was happening to me," Ptonomy says, the words coming out on their own. "I was having-- Weird dreams and-- I knew there was something wrong. There was this-- Stuff coming out of my ears, of course I knew, but-- It was like--" He looks at the mug, still full of tea. No one will drink it, it'll just be poured down the drain. "It took me over and I don't even know-- When I stopped being me. I was just-- A host. A thing for it to hide inside, to-- Feed on."

Just like David. Just like David and god, he didn't want to think about this, even though he's been working so hard on his PTSD he didn't want to face this.

Mara reaches out her hand again, and Ptonomy takes it, grips it tight. Mara winces and he loosens his grip to-- What a human can tolerate.

"You're still you," Mara soothes. "You're definitely you." She says the last exasperated, fond.

"I've been working so hard to stay," Ptonomy says, with feeling. "It would've been-- So easy to just-- Lose myself. Not even the detachment syndrome, just-- The mainframe. When I first went in-- It was like-- I could feel the-- Technology trying to-- Process me. Make me part of it. If the Admiral hadn't needed me to save David, I think-- The mainframe would have-- Finished what the monster started."

It's hard to admit that, to look down and acknowledge that he walked off a cliff and somehow he's still standing in mid-air. He was able to make the mainframe-- Manageable for himself, for Amy and Lenny, but--

"We need to get you out of there," Bernie says, certain.

"Not yet," Ptonomy says, just as certain.

Bernie huffs. "I wish you'd just tell me what's going on."

"I can't," Ptonomy says, frustrated himself. He can't tell them that everything's ready and waiting for the right moment. That they have everything they need except-- Safety. That the moment Ptonomy gets back into his body, he's just as vulnerable to telepaths as everyone else, and maybe just as useless. That maybe the only reason he suddenly matters to everyone is-- Because he's a ghost in the machine.

It's not a rational fear, he knows that. At least most of the time.

"Okay," Bernie sighs, accepting. "Need to know. Believe me, I get it. But the moment you decide I need to know, you tell me. Clear?"

"Clear," Ptonomy says, and lets out a long breath. He meets Mara's eyes, sees her concern, her caring. It eases him, swells his heart, to see that she still cares about him.

"What about you?" Ptonomy asks, as lightly as he can. "You gonna stick around?"

"Do the Divisions need artists?" Mara asks, matching his lightness.

"No," Ptonomy admits. 'But I need you,' he wants to say. But it's too much, too fast. He walked away from her, pushed her away before that. He died, or almost died, and still might. He can't put that on her.

"How about we just-- Take this one day at a time?" Mara offers. "You know I was always interested in all this mutant stuff. I want to learn more, help out. Something this big, it's like-- Marching in Selma or-- Walking on the moon."

He can see she means it, that she's excited. "Bigger," he teases.

"Damn," Mara says, impressed. "No way I can miss out."

Ptonomy can't help but smile at that. The pain of the flashback eases, fades. He's okay. He's gonna be okay.

"I've, uh, got another therapy session coming up, actually," he admits.

"You had two last night," Bernie protests.

"What's good for the goose," Ptonomy says. "I pushed David a lot harder than I'm getting pushed. I think I can handle it."

"You really do have to let us meet him," Mara says.

"You will," Ptonomy promises. If everything goes the way they hope, then-- David's going to be as much a part of his life as Mara and Bernie. Hopefully the three of them will all get along, though he doesn't know how Dad will take any of this. "But no punching."

"No promises," Bernie counters. "You gonna tell us about this session?"

"Guess I've got a few minutes," Ptonomy says. "Can you, uh, reheat my tea?"

"You've got a body, reheat it yourself," Bernie teases.

Ptonomy chuckles. "You know what? I will." And he takes his mug and stands.

Chapter 165: Day 14: I'm David. And so are you. (Past David)

Chapter Text

The garden is lovely and full of flowers.

It's not the garden that David's used to. The rooftop garden is smaller, more concrete than green; hot from the sun with no trees to shade it. But he knows it must have taken-- Care and work to make this little patch of life where there shouldn't be any. Where there shouldn't--

He still feels-- Dulled by the sedative, hazy and slow. Amy and Lenny brought him up here in a wheelchair, then sat him at a picnic table under a large umbrella. They're staying very close to him, watchful, cautious. They give him sips of water, helping him hold the water bottle because his hands are clumsy and shaky.

He listens to the traffic sounds drifting up from the streets. They're up so high, and with the breeze-- It feels like he could just-- Let go and-- Fly away from-- All of this. He used to float, sometimes. Or-- The monster made him float. Tricked him into thinking he could actually-- That he was special.

They talk to him, but he doesn't want to talk. They try to get him to eat something, but he's not hungry. He's not anything. And that's fine, that's-- It's better.

The monster's newest masks are gone. Kerry and Cary. They haven't come back. The monster must be back inside him or-- Very close to him. Maybe he's inside the monster. Maybe that's what happened.

It doesn't really matter. It doesn't matter what he knows or thinks or does. The monster decides all of that. And that's fine. That's how it's supposed to be. It only hurts because he fights it. When he-- Accepts—

Amy's talking to him again. He blinks and tries to listen.

"--been trying to-- Give you the truth a little at a time," Amy says, apologetic. "But you deserve all of it. And-- I'm not the best person to tell you." She looks at Lenny.

"I know you've been trying not to think about it," Lenny says. "But yesterday, when you woke up and everything was weird-- You met someone. Someone who-- Looked just like you but-- Older."

David focuses on her, feeling-- A spark of fear and-- A need he can't explain.

"He's gonna come here and talk to you," Lenny continues. "But we're gonna be right here, okay?"

She gives him an expectant look. She's obviously waiting for an answer, even though-- It doesn't matter what he says. Whatever's going to happen-- It'll happen anyway.

He nods.

"Okay," Lenny says. She turns, looks past him to the roof exit and-- It opens.

Footsteps walk towards them. Amy slides away, and then--

The other David sits next to him. The older David from yesterday. The strange need is suddenly stronger, almost-- A physical force urging them together.

Their eyes meet and-- David sees that-- The other David feels it, too.

"Hey," the other David says, softly. "I'm-- David. And so are you." He gives a small smile.

David just stares at him.

"Yeah," the other David agrees, the word a soft huff. "There's not really-- I'm just gonna--" He pauses. "When David Haller was in college, the monster-- Ripped him apart. It took-- Almost everything he was and-- Saved it. Tucked it away. And then it took what was left of David and-- Gave him-- A story to believe. Not a happy one but-- One that-- He could survive with."

He pauses again.

"The monster didn't do this out of-- Kindness," he continues. "It was just-- The only way to-- Keep torturing him. Everyone has a limit. A point where whatever happens-- Stops mattering."

He takes a deep breath, lets it out.

"Okay," he says. "So-- Time passes. Ten years. And then-- Someone finally helps David Haller. They get the monster out. But it escapes, runs away then-- Comes back. And it finds a way to-- Get back into David."

He swallows, upset, but continues.

"It couldn't get all the way in, just-- His dreams. So it took his dreams and-- Made another story. Not a happy one, but-- A story where-- They got the monster out and-- He was cared for and safe and-- Needed."

The other David hasn't looked away, but his gaze gets more intense.

"David lived that story for a year," the other David continues. "It was real. It absolutely happened. But only-- On the astral plane. The physical plane, the waking world-- The monster couldn't get to David there. But it wanted to. So it took-- The part of David it saved and-- The new story in the dream and-- A piece of his soul and-- Put all that inside of someone else's body."

David looks away. All this is-- Too much. More tricks. There's nothing left for the monster to take. What's the point of tricking him now?

"I know there's-- Nothing I can say to make you accept this," the other David says, sadly. "But there's something I want to show you."

He touches David's hand, turns it palm up. David looks at his unmarred wrist.

"You can feel the scars, right?" the other David asks.

David nods.

"Would you like to see them?"

David furrows his brow. What is this?

"Just watch," the other David says. He holds David's left hand in one hand, then reaches for it with the other. And David feels him take it and then-- David's hand is pulled out of his hand.

David goes very still, eyes wide. The other David holds both of David's left hands, and-- On the new wrist, there are the scars.

David turns to Amy and Lenny.

"I thought they'd be worse," Lenny says.

"They did have months to heal," Amy says.

"Months for you," the other David tells David. "But for us-- It's only been a few days. Because-- You're the part of David Haller that was taken, in college. And I'm-- The part of David Haller that was left behind."

David stares at him. The other David gives him a moment, then brings the two left hands back together. And then David only has one left hand again, and the scars are gone.

"What--" David tries. He touches his unmarred wrist.

The other David gives a soft laugh. "It's a lot, I know. But the truth is important. We need it so we can-- Understand ourselves. So we can heal. David, we were ripped apart. But we can put ourselves back together. We can be whole."

David takes a sharp breath in. He whimpers.

"Hey, it's okay," Lenny soothes. "If you want him to go, I'll kick him out."

David looks into the other David's eyes. It's nothing like looking at Divad or Dvd. All he can see is-- Himself.

"No," he rasps. He doesn't want the other David to go. He doesn't.

The other David eases, gives a soft smile. "It's nice up here, right? Soothing." He closes his eyes, and-- David thinks he's listening. But all David hears is the wind, the traffic.

David looks down at his unmarred wrist again. If it's true-- Ten years? But then--

He looks at Amy. Ten years. Is that why-- She's older?

"You're older," he tells Amy.

Amy nods. "They made my android look like my real body. As it was-- Before the monster destroyed it."

David swallows. "Then-- That really happened?"

"Yes," Amy says, full of feeling. "I was-- At home with my husband and-- The monster killed us."

"You're married?" David says, surprised.

Amy gives a soft, sad laugh. "His name was Ben. I loved him-- Very much." Her face crumples briefly, but she fights her grief.

"I met him," the other David says. "He was okay, but-- I don't think he liked me very much."

"David," Amy says, upset.

"Well he didn't," the other David defends. "I was just-- Amy's crazy brother. He never even--" He falters. "I should tell you about Lenny," he says, rallying. "She was my best friend in the mental hospital. Then the monster killed her. But we got her back. She's helped me so much. That's how-- We knew she'd help you."

"Yeah, yeah," Lenny says, waving him off.

"And then there's Oliver," the other David continues. "He's the one who got the monster out, but-- Then it took him. But we got him back, too." He pauses. "I know all this is a lot. I know, but-- Saving people from the monster, from-- What he does to them-- That's what we do. And we saved Oliver and Lenny and Amy and-- Me and-- We're gonna save you, too."

David gives all of them a very uncertain look. "But-- You're the monster."

"We're not," the other David promises. "I know it feels that way. I know you can't trust anything. I spent-- Ten years that way. Nothing made sense, I was terrified and lost and-- I just wanted it to stop."

He gives David an imploring look, and David-- Feels it. Knows it, in himself.

"You feel it, right?" the other David asks. "We're-- The same. Two halves of one person."

"Yes," David admits. Nothing makes sense but-- He feels it.

"Then hold on to that," the other David urges. "If it's the one solid thing you have to stand on-- Then stand on it."

David shifts, rubs his face. It's so hard to think, but-- He tries. The scars. "Why aren't there any scars?"

"Because you weren't in this body when you hurt yourself," the other David says. "Your scars are on-- Your astral form. That's why you still feel them."

"Show me again," David asks, and holds out his hand.

The other David takes David's hand and-- Pulls his hand out of it. And there are the scars. David tries to touch them, but-- His right hand goes through it. He touches his limp left arm and it's solid.

He moves his scarred arm, flexes his hand. He feels it. He feels the scars.

He thinks about how-- Divad and Dvd used to-- Step out of their body. His body. The book said-- That was astral projection, but-- Melanie and Amahl said-- They were just-- Hallucinations. The monster's tricks.

"Take my hand," the other David says. David takes it and then-- The other David pulls.

And then David is standing, unsteady in the other David's grip. And he turns and looks-- And sees himself. His body, unconscious but-- Held up by Lenny and Amy.

The fog of the sedative is gone. So is the pain from the crown, though David barely noticed it until it was gone. He feels calmer. The scars are back, on both his arms now.

"Here," the other David says, and then suddenly there's a full-length mirror standing there.

David steps in front of it and sees his reflection. He looks back at the unconscious body at the table. They're not the same.

"That's not my body," he realizes.

"It's not," the other David agrees. He waves his hand and the mirror vanishes. "The monster made it look like us, like we were when we were twenty. But it's not ours."

"Kerry and-- Cary?" David asks. What they said-- What Oliver said-- But how could his body belong to two people? And Cary's body was already in the infirmary--

"We'll explain everything," the other David promises. "But we have to take this one step at a time."

David sits down on the nearest bench, and the other David joins him. David rests his head in his hands and tries again to think.

"You're saying-- When I was-- When we were twenty-- The monster took me," David tries. "And then-- Ten years later, it brought me back?"

"Yes," the other David says.

"And everything after I was taken-- Before I woke up here-- Was a dream?"

"Our dream, yes," the other David says. "It happened to both of us. You're just-- The only part of us that can remember."

David groans. All this is too much.

"Wanna take a break?" the other David asks.

"No," David says, stubborn. "No, if it was all a dream then-- None of it happened?"

"It all happened," the other David insists. "It all actually happened to us. But it was in a world the monster made on the astral plane. One where it had-- Complete control over everything, just like it did when it was inside us."

"But Melanie," David protests. "And Syd and-- Amahl--" He turns to Amy. "Amy you said-- The monster killed you."

"It did," Amy says. "But the Amy in the dream-- Was just a mask."

Panic curls in David's gut. "Melanie," he says again, insistent. "And Syd--" But Syd's been so strange--

"Syd was a mask, too," the other David says, regretful. "Melanie was-- Real, but-- She was taken just like you were. She was changed, like-- I was. The life she remembers isn't real. The real Syd and Melanie-- I met them after college."

"And Amahl?" David asks, needing. Please, please--

The other David's expression darkens. "Amahl Farouk. The Shadow King, a powerful mutant like us. Our birth father fought him, almost destroyed him. Amahl took revenge on our father by invading our body and torturing us for our entire life."

"No," David says, because it's the only thing he can say. "You're lying!"

"I'm telling you the absolute truth," the other David says, firmly. "I won't lie to you, ever. I won't lie to myself."

"He saved me!" David shouts.

"He's the monster," the other David says. Then he turns, annoyed and says, "No, I need the truth."

But he's not talking to anyone.

David stands up and starts backing away, and-- Startles as he backs into--

"Whoa, whoa," Dvd soothes. "It's okay."

David startles and backs the other way, but runs into--

"We're not the monster," Divad soothes. Where did they--

"Uh, guys," Lenny warns.

"We got this," Divad tells her. "David, you've been gone for ten years."

"We know you're scared," Dvd says. "We just want you back."

David whirls around, looking at the other David and Dvd and Divad and Lenny and Amy. But all he can see is-- The nightmares. "Stay away from me!" he warns. He tries to run but-- Something stops him. He's stuck, held in place and then-- Forced to sit back down on the bench. "Let me go!"

"No," the other David says. "We have to rip the bandaid off. No more half-truths, no more playing Farouk's game."

David screams. He screams and screams and screams. He has to wake up, he has to wake up.

But when he stops, his throat sore-- Everyone's just waiting calmly. And he still can't move.

"Yeah," the other David says, sympathetic. "I've been exactly where you are. Pretty recently, in fact. But screaming doesn't actually help."

David groans. "Leave me alone."

"No," the other David says. "You need us. You need your system."

David glares at him. "I don't have a system! They're the monster, they're masks!" Not Amahl. Amahl could never be the monster, he just couldn't.

"But I'm not," the other David says. "You know I'm not."

"No I don't," David retorts.

The other David gives him a look. He shifts closer. "You feel that? The pull? It's stronger when we're close."

David remains stubbornly silent.

"A friend of mine told me-- That's our soul," the other David continues. "Trying to pull itself back together. Because the monster pulled it apart. Amahl Farouk pulled it apart."

"Liar," David snarls.

The other David gives him a tolerant look. "We've never been good at listening when we're upset. And let's face it, we're pretty much always upset. It's a bad combination.”

David screws his eyes shut. “Not real, not real, not real.” None of this is real. When he opens his eyes, they’ll be gone.

He cracks open one eye. They’re all still here.

This is bad. It’s really bad. He doesn’t understand it but it’s bad.

He looks to Amy and Lenny, imploring. “Lenny, please,” he begs. She’s supposed to protect him. He needs her.

Lenny and Amy lay David’s body down in the shade. Lenny walks over and sits next to David.

“I’m on your side, okay?” Lenny promises. “But the thing is, so are they. You got fucking kidnapped. You think Amahl saved you? He ‘saved’ me, too. Ripped out my soul and got his kicks with it, and then dumped me in the wrong body. Just like you.” She tries to poke his chest but her finger goes through him.

“He used my body,” Amy says. “That’s how I died. And he did the same thing to Cary and Kerry. We have to save them, too.”

David looks at his unconscious body. “Then just take it,” he says, tiredly. “I don’t—“ He shakes his head. He doesn’t understand why they’re even telling him this. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, what he wants. He can’t stop them. He can’t do anything.

“No,” the other David says, gently. “You matter so much, David. To all of us. We love you. I love you. Not because— You’re useful or— You can be someone’s key. But because you’re part of us.” There are tears in his eyes. “We missed you so much.”

And then the other David— Holds him. Gently and then— Tighter, needing. And David feels it, too. The pull gets stronger, stronger, like they could just— fall into each other and—

They both gasp as they’re pulled apart.

“Whoa,” Lenny says, wide-eyed. “Maybe hold off on the hugs.”

Dvd and Divad are still holding them. “You okay?” Divad asks the other David.

“Yeah,” the other David says, though he’s clearly shaken.

“David?” Dvd asks.

“What was that?” David asks.

“You almost fused,” Divad says, concerned. “Or merged or—“ He shakes his head. "Lenny's right. No hugging."

"Why?" David asks. "If you want me back then-- Why?"

"It's not safe," Dvd says. "The monster messed with your head. We can't let it mess with his."

David looks at the other David, meets his eyes. The need is still there, though it's weaker now. David reaches for the other David and touches him, and they both take a sharp breath in. He pulls back his hand, touches the other David again, and it's the same.

Somehow-- He knows it's true. They were pulled apart and they need to be back together. This is-- Himself. The rest of himself. But everything else they said--

Amahl can't be the monster.

But if it was all a dream, if-- Nothing since college was real--

"We're a mutant?" David asks, uncertain.

"Yes," the other David says, relieved.

"And we have-- Alters?"

"Yes." The other David glances at Divad and Dvd, then back to David. "We're all headmates. We share our body-- Our life with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. We belong to ourselves, not the monster, not anyone else."

The words seem important, even though-- David doesn't really understand them. "What's-- Healthy multiplicity?"

The other David smiles. "That's-- What was it?"

"A functional co-relationship with shared responsibility and accountability," Divad recites. "It means-- We take care of each other. But we also take care of ourselves."

David stares at Divad. "You're, uh-- Different."

"It's been ten years," Divad says. "We've been through a lot. We've learned-- Better ways to be from-- Some really kind people."

David turns to Dvd and sees-- A lot of things. Hope, shame, longing-- And the longing is so familiar. But it's-- Confusing, now. For months, David thought Dvd was a mask, that he was-- The monster's way of--

He looks away, upset. And then he thinks of-- Syd and--

"Um," he starts, swallows. "I don't think I can-- Do this."

"Do what?" the other David asks.

"Anything," David says, tightly. Maybe they are still the monster. Maybe he's just crazy. Maybe he's lost the last scraps of his sanity for good and now he's just-- Fantasizing some-- Ridiculous nonsense that barely makes any sense.

"You're scared," the other David says, understanding. "Fuck, you're terrified. You've been jerked around for so long--" He takes a shaky breath. "It's not even-- Not wanting to be hurt again. Because the pain never stops. It's-- Hoping. Letting yourself-- Want. That's the worst."

He looks at David, expectant. David gives a short nod.

"Yeah," the other David sighs. "But you have to try. Just one step at a time, because-- You don't deserve what happened to you. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't-- Some all-knowing judgement of the universe, punishing you for existing. And I know that's really hard to believe. So we're gonna believe it for you."

David looks into the other David's eyes, and sees-- Certainty. Love, so much love. And it's-- For him? David can't understand that. If this is really-- The other half of himself then-- This other David should loathe David as much as he loathes himself. He should be angry and-- Punish him, because that's all he deserves, and--

"No," the other David says, softly. "That voice in your head, that-- Shame— It's wrong, okay? It's lying to you. It's a parasite, just like the monster, trying to eat you alive, and-- You can't let it. You deserve to live, David. You deserve to be alive and-- Happy. You don't deserve your pain."

Tears streak down the other David's face. Divad perches at the edge of the bench and hugs him from behind. The other David takes a gasping breath and rests his arms over Divad's arms.

And David sees that-- Even if the other David has-- Healed somehow-- He feels it too. The shame, the pain, the-- Certainty that-- There's nothing good in him, nothing that deserves any kindness. He feels it but--

It's not everything, the way it is for David. It's not every single breath, every agonizing second he's alive. This other him somehow-- Actually got better.

It shouldn't be possible. Maybe it's not. But when David reaches out and puts his hand over the other David's heart--

He feels it. The shame, the pain-- And the hope. The joy. The love that-- The other David feels, held in Divad's arms. And feeling it in the other David-- Is almost like feeling it in himself.

Tears streak down his face and-- He smiles.

"Okay," he says, clinging to that impossible, borrowed joy. "I'll try."

Chapter 166: Day 14: How likely is retaliation? (Clark)

Chapter Text

Clark's just leaving the cafeteria, coffee in hand, tablet under his arm, when he almost walks right into Syd.

Syd does her automatic hop backwards. "Oh! Sorry."

"Sorry," Clark says, also automatically. He shakes the spilled coffee from his hand. Lucky thing he spent so long staring into his cup that it was too cooled for him to burn himself.

Or rather, for Syd to burn him, again. It's a wry thought. He supposes it's better than blaming David.

"Everyone else is busy," Syd says, with some effort. "Can I--"

"Tag along?" Clark asks. Ptonomy and his damn rule. It's not like having company stopped Melanie from snatching Past David, or Farouk from snatching the Loudermilks. Clark's a big boy, he doesn't need a hall buddy. But fine. "Sure."

He walks, and Syd lines up next to him. They reach a conference room and go inside.

"You brought Sydney," says Miriam, with a welcoming smile. "It's so good to meet you. We've heard all about you." She doesn't offer her hand.

"Just Syd," Syd says.

"Of course," Miriam says. "I'm Doctor Albani, but you can call me Miriam. And this is Doctor Marcelle Broadus." She gestures to Marcelle.

"I didn't mean to interrupt your meeting," Syd says.

"We're just finishing up," Marcelle says. "Miriam and I are leading some group work. Perhaps you'd like to join us?"

"Group work?" Syd asks, her interest piqued.

Marcelle hesitates, then looks to Clark. "I understand that-- You're all sharing your treatments openly?"

"Go ahead," Clark says.

"Ptonomy and Amy," Marcelle tells Syd. "And I believe-- All the Davids?"

Syd's expression falls. It's subtle, but Clark knows how to read her. "I don't think I should," she says. She glances at the door, visibly ready to bolt, and Clark gives a great, entirely internal sigh.

"She's with me," Clark says.

Minnie's eyebrows raise. "Are you sure?"

"It's fine," Clark says, as smoothly as he can. He'll take one for the team. He gives Syd an expectant look, and Syd stares back at him.

"I'm sure we'll be working together soon, Syd," Miriam says, and then she and Marcelle head out.

"Please, sit," Minnie says. She takes a seat at the head of the conference table, and Clark takes the side seat closest to her. Syd goes a few chairs away on the opposite site, tucks herself neatly into her seat.

Clark sips his coffee. Definitely too cool now, but ah well.

"Okay," Minnie says, settling in with her notes. "Last time we talked about your work and the emotional impact it's had on you. Did you talk to your husband?"

Clark braces himself. "Yes. We spoke."

"Tell me about it."

Clark delays by taking another sip of his coffee. "It didn't go well."

"How so? Was he-- Upset?"

"He's concerned that-- These sessions will make-- A negative impression on the Division heads."

"It's not typical for patients to allow their superiors access to their private sessions," Minnie points out. "I would be happy to hold our sessions somewhere else."

"No," Clark says. "Hiding them would be worse."

"Okay," Minnie accepts. "I've worked with whistleblowers. How likely is retaliation?"

"If I'm seen as a traitor, very," Clark says, plainly. "The Divisions didn't get this far by playing nice with their enemies."

"Do you consider yourself their enemy?"

"No," Clark says, firmly, and he believes that. "I want the same thing I've always wanted. To do my job and protect the human race from extinction. That's why we agreed to work with Summerland in the first place. And that wasn't my decision, I'm just--"

Clark stops himself. He doesn't like showing his anger, but he's angry.

"You're angry," Minnie observes.

"I've given my life to this organization," Clark says. "I think I'm owed some courtesy."

"And courtesy is-- Understanding?" Minnie asks. "Flexibility?"

"It's respect that my loyalties haven't changed," Clark says, and it takes effort not to glare at the surveillance cameras. "They told me to work with David Haller, with mutants, instead of killing them. That's what I'm doing. Simple as that."

"But Daniel didn't see it that way?"

Clark sighs. "No. He's-- Most Division employees-- Consider this alliance to be temporary. That once the current situation is resolved-- Things will go back to normal."

"Normal being genocide?"

"Yes."

"Will they?"

Clark pauses. "That depends on-- How the situation resolves. Quite frankly, it depends on David Haller."

"How does David feel about that? He was instrumental in this arrangement, right?"

"Yes," Clark says. "I don't think it was-- Entirely intentional. But he wanted peace, so-- Here we are."

"That's a very fragile peace, to depend on one person," Minnie says. "Especially one who-- Already has a great burden of his own."

Clark glances at Syd. Her expression is impassive, but she's paying very close attention. Good.

"So how do you feel about that?" Minnie asks.

"I don't care for-- Helplessness," Clark says. "I've always needed to be in control. Relying on-- A traumatized and mentally ill mutant to decide my future, the future of the entire world-- It makes my bosses deeply uncomfortable."

"Would they be comfortable with a healthy David Haller?" Minnie asks. "Are they genuinely worried about his mental state, or is it just-- An excuse?"

"Maybe both," Clark offers. "This arrangement was-- More palatable for them before-- All this."

Minnie checks her notes. "Yesterday you said, even without David, the world has reached a tipping point. Cary told me the same thing. The Divisions weren't forced to change because of David. He was just-- The last straw. A very powerful last straw, but-- This is bigger than one mutant."

"Yes," Clark agrees.

"But Daniel still thinks things will go back the way they were?"

Clark shifts in his seat. He takes another sip of his coffee. He should have got a fresh cup before--

"Does it upset you, that Daniel doesn't feel the way you do?" Minnie asks.

"Maybe he's right," Clark defends. "Maybe I'm compromised."

"Are you?"

"No," Clark says, certain.

"It must have hurt, to be accused of that. Especially by your husband."

Clark's jaw tenses.

"Tell me about him," Minnie says. "You met at work?"

"Yes," Clark says, forcing himself to relax. "A field assignment. We hit it off. It was-- Casual at first. I didn't really-- I wasn't looking for something long-term."

"Why not?"

Clark hesitates, thinking of-- Parachutes that don't open. "This job is dangerous. We put our lives on the line every day."

"That kind of danger makes strong bonds, whether we want them or not. Is that what happened?"

"Maybe," Clark admits. He remembers how-- One day he just-- Needed for them to be together no matter what their assignments were. How Daniel became-- Essential to him. It terrified him, falling in love, but-- He's never been a coward. "I love him. I trust him. I thought he trusted me."

"Did he say he didn't?"

"If he trusted me, he'd back me up," Clark says, letting his annoyance show. "He'd understand. He knows what I'm doing here, he knows everything I know."

"Ah," Minnie says. "You think what you experienced should have changed him the way it changed you?"

"We've always felt the same way about our work," Clark says.

"And now you don't."

"No." Clark shifts again, restless. He hated arguing with Daniel, hated feeling-- Misunderstood by him.

"Let's go back a bit," Minnie says. "How was your relationship with Daniel affected by the attack last year? You were badly burned, almost died. How did he feel about that?"

"He cried himself to sleep every night," Clark says, plainly.

"So it was very traumatic for him, almost losing you."

"Yes," Clark admits, calming a little. "We have a son. Adopted."

"You chose to adopt even though your jobs are dangerous?" Minnie asks.

"Yes."

"Was the adoption your idea or his?"

"His," Clark admits.

"Would you say that Daniel had-- Less fear about your safety, before the attack?"

"Probably. When I recovered, he-- Wanted me to be safe. Take desk duty. But I couldn't."

"Because you had to stop David?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Minnie says, considering. "So maybe you haven't always felt exactly the same way about your jobs. Daniel felt confident enough in your safety to start a family with you. And then-- He nearly lost you, he saw you suffering terribly. He tried to protect you but you wouldn't let him, you went right back into the field, with a revenge mindset. And now-- You're at risk not only from mutants, but from your own organization."

"You think he's just trying to protect me?"

"He's your husband," Minnie says. "Is that so hard to believe?"

Clark softens, but he's still upset. "He should trust me."

"Because you know the right thing to do?"

Clark wants to say yes to that, but--

"Doubt is normal," Minnie says. "Especially with decisions this huge. I think what you need to do is listen to your conscience. What does it tell you?"

Nothing he wants to hear.

"Okay," Minnie says, when he doesn't answer. "Would it be fair to say that-- David has been your primary motivation since the attack?"

"My motivation is doing my job," Clark says, firmly.

"Of course," Minnie soothes. "But after the attack, what was it that motivated you through what must have been a very challenging recovery? Was it love for your husband, your son? Or killing David?"

None of your goddamn business, Clark wants to say, but bites it back. "I wanted him dead, yes. I wanted to finish the job."

"And when you got back to the field, when you found him-- What happened?"

"You've read my notes."

"Tell me anyway," Minnie says. "Tell me how it felt."

Clark forces himself to remember. "We had him," he says, remembering that brief, glorious moment of victory. "We had all of them. And then-- He just--" He waves his hand, the way David waved his hand and effortlessly swept all the soldiers into a pile. "We knew he was powerful. What happened in Clockworks, the tests, but that was--" It made his blood run cold. "Before, he was-- Wild, unstable. But he was-- Focused. In control."

"And that made him more dangerous, or less?"

"More," Clark says, knows. "Absolutely."

"You've been helping him get back to that state," Minnie points out. "That's the goal of his system's therapy, to put them in control of their life. Do you feel that-- You're helping David become more dangerous?"

"Yes," Clark admits, with some small relief. Acknowledging that. "He was powerless, vulnerable. Without Farouk's interference, we--" Would have. "Could have killed him." The Admiral insisted there was a chance, but-- Clark was certain David would never get better.

"Do you regret that you didn't?" Minnie asks. "Not that you didn't kill David last year, before you could be burned. But that you didn't kill him two weeks ago?"

The answer should be the same, Clark thinks. But somehow it's not. "No."

"Tell me about that."

Clark shifts in his seat. He glances at Syd, looks at his coffee, then back at Minnie. "I don't want things to go back to normal."

"You don't want to go back to killing mutants?"

"No," Clark admits, relieved again. "Obviously if they're a threat--" He pauses, starts again. "I want to keep the world safe, humanity safe. That hasn't changed. I want to do my job."

"But something has changed for you," Minnie says.

"Yes."

"You're-- Re-evaluating the threats mutants pose?"

Clark considers that. "Yes." He hesitates. "When David's treatment started, I was-- Angry. I wanted him dead, not-- So I looked for solutions."

Minnie's eyebrows raise. "Solutions?"

"He was never going to get better," Clark says, even though he's been proven wrong. "So I thought-- Keep him sedated. Get Cary to-- Find a way to-- Make David Haller harmless."

Minnie taps on her tablet. "By-- Removing his mutation? I understand that's not possible."

"It would've turned him into someone else," Clark admits. "But that someone else would have been-- Free to go." It haunts him, sometimes. Making the offer. David's-- Bleak desperation to-- Erase himself from existence. Clark wanted to be happy, seeing that, but he wasn't. "I've never been suicidal. I never understood-- That mindset."

"Does it bother you?"

"I have compassion," Clark insists. "I'm not cruel."

"Are you saying that because you think you were being cruel then?" Minnie asks.

"Maybe," Clark sighs. "Yes. Cary was-- I've honestly never seen him even half that angry." Cary was absolutely furious.

"How did that make you feel?"

"Inhuman," Clark admits.

"That's an awful feeling."

Clark nods.

"You respect Cary's opinion?" Minnie asks.

"I suppose," Clark says. "I didn't really-- Think much of him, until all this. He was just-- Another resource. We'd tell him to make something and he'd make it. He left the-- Moral guidance to Melanie."

"But now you're ready to work with him. On Division 4. Do you feel-- His moral guidance will help you not be inhuman again?"

"At the moment he's not exactly available," Clark replied.

Minnie just gives him a look.

"Yes," Clark sighs.

"Even though Cary's definition of humanity is different from what yours used to be? From Daniel and the Divisions' definition?"

"Maybe we were wrong," Clark says, needs to say it. No, he's not a coward. "We were wrong. I was wrong." It feels good to admit it, and awful. It makes him feel worse than inhuman. There is so much blood on his hands, on the hands of everyone involved. So many people were so sure that they were right. He was one of them. Daniel is still one of them.

"That's a hard thing to accept," Minnie says, and he can tell she's begrudgingly impressed.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll get a medal," Clark drawls. "Right before they put a bullet in my brain."

"So you do expect to be executed?" Minnie asks, sobering.

"That depends on David Haller," Clark sighs. He does not like having his fate tied to a mentally ill mutant. But there's no going back now. "He forced the Divisions to change."

"And you want him to do it again?" Minnie asks. "Just wave his hand and-- Change their minds? Isn't that exactly what you don't want him to do?"

Clark sighs and crosses his arms, frustrated.

"I get it," Minnie says. "He changed you, and you want him to change everyone else, too. So you can all feel the same way again. But the reality is, you never all felt the same way."

"We did," Clark insists, but feels childish for it. And Minnie obviously doesn't buy it. He gives an aggrieved sigh. "Fine. What am I supposed to do, convince them to see the error of their ways?"

"Maybe," Minnie says. "But that won't be easy. In the meantime, if you need to talk to someone who shares your new views, it seems to me-- You already have that." And she tilts her head at Syd.

Clark turns and looks at Syd, and Syd looks back, mildly surprised.

"I understand that-- You chose to isolate yourself from everyone during David's therapy," Minnie continues. "And I understand your reasons. But if you're trying to change so you can become David's ally, Cary's ally-- Then maybe it's time you stopped staying away from them."

"Cary's not here," Clark says, again.

"Actually, from what Ptonomy and Oliver wrote in their notes, it's likely that Cary and Kerry are very present, even when Past David can't see them," Minnie says. "You can already talk to them. What you need is-- A way for them to talk to you. You'd like to speak with Cary, right?"

Clark nods.

Minnie turns to Syd. "Syd, what do you think?"

"Um," Syd starts. "I guess-- As long as you're not-- Thinking hostile thoughts about David." She gets a resolved look. "Yes. It's a good idea. Cary will definitely like it."

Minnie turns back to Clark. "Clark? How are your thoughts today?"

Clark thinks about spilling coffee on his hand. "Safe enough, I think. Though it's probably-- Going to be harder, being with him."

"That's true," Minnie admits. "Syd, I believe-- You have some recent experience with triggering situations? With David?"

Syd looks slightly horrified that Minnie knows about all that, but she calms. "Yes. Um. If you feel upset then-- Step back. Acknowledge your feelings. Help yourself feel better and then-- Talk about it."

Clark resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Sure," he says, sarcasm leaking out anyway.

"You can mock it," Syd says, with tolerant amusement. "It's weird for me, too. Accepting that I'm not in control of how I feel. But I'm not, and neither are you."

"I'm in control," Clark insists.

"No," Syd says, shaking her head. "And that's okay. It's actually-- Normal." She gives a small, wry smile. "Humans, mutants. It's the same."

"Fine," Clark sighs, not in the mood to argue. "You gonna give me a notebook, too?"

Syd's smile widens.

"Damn it," Clark mutters. Damn Cary and his stupid ideas and his stupid notebooks. Why is he doing this? It would be so much easier to just--

No. No, he can't--

He swallows, sobered.

"Clark?" Minnie prompts, concerned.

Clark doesn't answer. His throat feels tight. His heart hurts, thinking of-- Daniel's voice on the phone, upset and angry and worried.

"What if-- I change and-- He doesn't?" Clark asks, needing. "Daniel?"

"That's possible," Minnie admits. "But-- I believe your job here is-- About understanding people. And helping them make the right decisions. Yes?"

Clark gives a short nod.

"Daniel must love you very much," Minnie says, gently. "But he's scared, too. He doesn't want to lose you, for your son to lose you. Especially after almost losing you once already. Did you-- Truly come back to him, after the attack?"

Clark's breath catches. He wants to say yes, of course. But-- "No," he admits. He was always thinking about David, always thinking about killing him, about how that would make everything okay again.

But that was never true. And now-- If they lose David--

"I should call him back," Clark decides. He needs to-- Apologize. Fix what he broke, or at least-- Make a start.

"Yeah," Minnie says, with a soft smile. "I think that's a very good idea."

Chapter 167: Day 14: You're strong enough to take it back. (Past David)

Chapter Text

"Do I have to?" David asks, eyeing the unconscious body in the wheelchair. It's not his body and he doesn't want to be in a body that isn't his.

"Just for a while," the other David promises. "Until we can-- Find a safe way to put us back together."

David sighs. He feels so exhausted by all of this. He wants to fall into the other David and rest inside him, like he did with the monster. No, with his-- With his system. If this is actually his system, if he ever actually had a system--

"David," he whines, and reaches for him.

The other David takes his hand, holds it. They can't hug, it's not safe, but they can hold hands, and that's-- When they touch, their connection fills him up. He can feel the strength in the other David, the determination, the worry, the love. There's so much love and David's absolutely starving for it. He knows it would feel so good to just--

"No," the other David says, softly but with some effort. He takes away his hand and the absence of him hurts. David reaches for him again, but Dvd and Divad intervene.

"You, body, now," Dvd says, firmly.

David pouts at him. Whether Dvd is the monster or his-- Headmate-- "You're supposed to take care of me."

"That's exactly what I'm doing," Dvd says. "Now are you gonna go back or do I have to make you?"

David's pout sours to a scowl. Dvd never treated him this way before. "You're supposed to make me feel good. That body feels terrible."

"It's brand new," Dvd points out. "If it feels like shit, that's because you feel like shit."

"Being in a body is important," Divad says. "You need it so Amy and our friends can help you heal, just like they helped us."

David gives Divad a wary look. Divad being nice is as weird as Dvd being mean. David doesn't trust it, it feels all wrong. If they are the monster and this is all just another trick--

"They're not the monster," the other David promises again. "And they're right, you need to be-- Part of the world. To let people reach you. You can't do that without a body."

"You're not in our body," David says, and points at Divad. "He is."

"Because Divad needs it most right now," the other David says. "Me and Dvd can use our powers for touch. But we share our body however we need to. That's part of our healthy multiplicity."

David rolls his eyes. That again.

"Look," the other David says. "I know you're used to-- Isolation. And the world feels like-- All it's going to do is hurt you more. But that's what the monster taught us to think. Being alone doesn't help us."

"I wasn't alone with Amahl," David argues, and feels a small satisfaction at everyone's reaction.

"No," the other David agrees, softly. "We were never alone with the monster."

David huffs. Amahl isn't the monster, he can't possibly be the monster. Everyone else is the monster, maybe even the other David. Well, probably not the other David, but--

"We don't need anyone," David tells them. He turns on Dvd and Divad. "You used to know that. Other people just make everything worse."

"What about Amy?" the other David asks.

David crosses his arms. He glances at Amy; she's standing behind the wheelchair, waiting patiently.

He doesn't know what to feel about Amy. He lost her for years, and then-- And then he got her back, but she was lying to him, and she's-- Not in her real body either. But in all the confusion, what he feels most--

He shoves it down. It doesn't matter what he feels. It doesn't matter what he wants. They're just going to force him into that body anyway. So what if it hurts? He's supposed to hurt. That's what he's for.

"Fine," he mutters, and stubbornly marches up to the body and sits down into it. He gasps in pain as he opens his eyes. The sedative wore off some while he was out of it, and his head-- He clutches at the crown.

"Careful," Amy warns, reaching for his hands.

"It hurts," David whines. How did he barely notice it before? "Get it off."

"It has to stay on," the other David says. "Just until you're stable."

"Stable?" David asks, disbelieving.

"It's part of your therapy," the other David says. "You don't want-- Another accident, right? You don't want to hurt anyone with your powers."

"I don't have--" David starts, and cuts himself off. They told him that he caused the lab explosion, that he hurt Amy and Ptonomy and Oliver, and that's why he has to wear the crown. Maybe he does have powers. Or maybe he only seems to have powers because the monster is back and sharing his powers with him again. "It wasn't my fault."

"It wasn't," the other David agrees. "You didn't know. But now you do know and-- You can make the choice to be safe."

David doesn't want to be safe. But fine. "Whatever." It's not like he actually has a choice. It's not like he should have one. He's terrible at choices, he always has been and he always will be and they should know that if they're his system, they should all know that.

He slumps, stewing in his misery, and pulls in on himself. They wheel him to the stairs and then Amy and Lenny carry his wheelchair down to the elevator. David stops paying attention. It doesn't matter where they're taking him, he doesn't need to know, he can't do anything to stop them or to stop anything. He'll just endure this like he's endured everything in his entire life, and then they'll figure out how to get him and the other David back together, and then he can go back to doing the only thing he's good at, which is not existing.

The other David gives a long-suffering sigh. David ignores it. And then--

The elevator stops and they wheel him onto a familiar floor. There are people waiting outside the lab door, Ptonomy and a man and woman he doesn't recognize. Lenny takes over his wheelchair while Amy goes to meet them.

"Amy," the man greets warmly. "How are you doing?"

"Marcelle," Amy greets back, smiling. "Holding up. You know."

"I see we have some guests," says the woman. She approaches them. "Hello, I'm Doctor Albani. Call me Miriam. And you're--?"

"Dvd," Dvd says, gesturing at himself. "That's Divad, that's David. And, uh, that's also David."

Marcelle comes over too, introduces himself, and both he and Miriam shake hands with David's headmates. David just gives them a wary look.

"David," Miriam says. "We're very happy to meet you. We've heard so much about you."

"We're the support team's support team," Marcelle says, with a little laugh. "We're helping your friends so they can help you."

They wait for David to reply, but he doesn't. They look at David's headmates, uncertain.

"He's kinda overwhelmed by-- Everything," Divad says, apologetic.

"Of course," Marcelle says, understanding.

"We'll be going into the lab for this," Miriam says. "Will that be okay?"

They look at David expectantly, and he gives the smallest shrug, hoping that will make them stop talking to him.

It does. They go back to Ptonomy and Amy and speak with them briefly. David stares at the door to the lab and just looking at them brings back so many memories.

Home. On the other side of that door should be home. Amahl and Melanie should be waiting for him there, and Syd, with one of Amahl's mom's spicy meals and Amahl's stories and--

His heart hurts. He wishes, prays that when the door opens, everything is back the way it should be. That he wakes up from this endless nightmare and Amahl is waiting for him. Please, please, please, please, please--

But the door opens and Amahl isn't there. And they all go inside and--

It's empty. Just a room, cleaned out and patched up, with the window letting in daylight. But there's fresh plaster covering the holes in the walls, shrapnel scars. The only thing left is a sheet-covered dome. It was in the lab before, but Amahl never used it, so David doesn't know what it is.

"You're doing great," Miriam says to Ptonomy and Amy. The two of them are holding hands. "Just stay in the present. Focus on the differences. You're in control."

"The door's open," Marcelle soothes. "If you need to leave, all you have to do is step out into the hall."

David frowns, confused. What are they doing?

"Curious?" the other David asks, bending close to his ear. His voice is soft and fond.

David gives an indifferent shrug. But he feels compelled to focus on Ptonomy and Amy, to figure out what's going on. Is this-- Something to do with being disembodied? Last night, with the pizza, they said-- And Lenny said they were patients-- But then Lenny should be doing whatever it is, too.

"Amy?" Marcelle prompts. "Tell us what you're feeling."

"It's so different," Amy admits. "With everything cleared out-- It barely feels like the same place."

”Same," Ptonomy says, and he seems relieved. "It's like-- The room was patched up, too."

"Wonderful," Marcelle says. "We'd like you both to think of this as-- A chance to make the room what you need it to be. To keep the good parts of a space that-- Is still very important to both of you."

"How about you tell us some good memories you made here?" Miriam prompts. "Ptonomy, how about you go first?"

"Okay," Ptonomy says, gathering himself. He closes his eyes, concentrates. "When Amy led everyone in the group massage. I'd been pushing myself so hard, but I was able to-- Be part of the group. Let them take care of me for a while." He smiles at Amy. "And I was so proud of you."

Amy ducks her head, touched. "I liked that moment, too. Everyone just-- Being together, feeling good. And I really liked being in charge." She gives a soft laugh.

She's happy. David feels a pang of-- Jealousy? No, longing. When did Amy ever look at him and not feel sad, even when she smiled? Or frightened of his powers? Burdened by his existence? She was only ever happy with Divad. Divad was who she wanted, never David.

"No," the other David murmurs, softly. He takes David's hand, and then--

David feels what the other David feels. And they look at Amy together and David is flooded with feelings of affection, acceptance, belonging-- Both for Amy and from her. Tears streak down his face, shock and relief and grief he can't begin to pull apart.

"That's what we have now," the other David says, softly. "Because we understand each other. Because-- We both told each other how we felt, and-- We learned how to stop hurting each other."

"What's another good memory?" Miriam asks.

"It's not really-- One specific moment but-- Healing my relationship with David," Amy says, and looks across the room at them. "Even after everything that happened last year, and finally acknowledging his powers-- Being here finally gave us the chance to really talk. To apologize, and-- Be what we always should have been for each other."

She looks at the other David with such warmth and love, and the other David matches her, and through their connection David feels them feeling it-- And it's overwhelming and confusing but-- It's like a huge wound in his heart is suddenly healed, even though it hasn't healed at all.

David sobs and pulls away from the other David's touch, and all sense of healing vanishes. And it's a relief, somehow, to just hurt again, to feel miserable and hopeless. That's what he's supposed to feel.

This isn't his Amy. His Amy hates him and doesn't believe him and never wants to see him again.

Across the room, Amy looks hurt, but quickly rallies. "We still have a lot of work to do," she tells Miriam. "But I know we can do it."

"You feel in control," Miriam says.

"Yes," Amy says, relieved.

"We want you both to feel in control of this space," Marcelle says. "To acknowledge that yes, trauma happened here. But it's not happening now. And it's your space, full of good memories you worked hard to build together. You're strong enough to take it back."

Ptonomy and Amy both take deep breaths, let them out.

"Let's walk the room together," Miriam says. "Look at it from every angle. Take it all in and feel how different it is."

The four of them start walking around the room, taking their time, touching the walls and the window, even the floor. They smell the air, they listen to the quiet, the faint sounds of the city outside. As Amy and Ptonomy approach, Lenny wheels David to the other side of the room, and his system follows. They stop beside the window and David looks out.

It startles him how close the street is. He's used to looking down and seeing everyone as small as ants, but they're just a few stories up here. He grabs the wheels of the chair and maneuvers so he's facing the window, and presses his palm against it. He watches the people outside, passing by. There's soldiers, and-- Those weird robots with mustaches and-- Normal people too, going-- Somewhere. Work, home, he doesn't know. He can't hear their thoughts.

But they're so close. He barely saw anyone but the Farouks for months, except from very far away. It wasn't safe, Amahl's work--

It's so hard to accept that-- Amahl's work is over. That the data is gone, that-- Even if Amahl came back, it would all still be over. Or at least-- They'd have to start all over again, from the beginning. Would that even be possible? All that work, months and months of tests and--

It feels wrong that-- He's relieved? But he'd do it again. If Amahl needs it, he'll do it again. Of course he will, it's not like-- He's only worth anything if he's useful to someone.

He feels like he's being watched, and turns to see his headmates all looking at him. He knows they can hear his thoughts, just like they always could. That's the same, at least.

"What?" he asks, annoyed.

Dvd and Divad look uncomfortable, upset.

"It's not true," Dvd says, finally.

"Of course it's true," David says. He knows he's useless, that he ruins everything, he knows that and they know it. Everyone knows it, whether they're the monster or not. It's just the truth.

"David," Divad says, pained. "Look, I know-- I'm gonna have to say this a lot of times before you start to believe it. But I'm the one who was wrong. Treating you that way, telling you--" He shakes his head. "I love you, okay? And I'm really sorry, and-- I want us to have what-- Amy and David have. I want us to be here for each other the way we always should have been."

"You're not my brother," David says, strained. "You're not even a person, you're just-- A stress response." Or a mask.

"No," Divad says, softly, pained. "We thought that but-- We were wrong."

David turns away, looks out the window again. But Divad steps over, crouches down.

"I'm not your brother," Divad agrees. "I'm your headmate. And I don't care how long it takes, I will never give up on fixing this. I love you and I will always be here for you. I have so much to make up for. You were never worthless, never."

"Go away," David says, tiredly.

"I don't know what Farouk did to you in that dream lab," Divad continues. "But this place? It's for us, so we can heal. So we can make our system what we need it to be so all of us can be happy. And I know you don't know how to love yourself, or even-- To let yourself be loved. But we're gonna love you anyway."

"I don't want this," David insists. He wants to be alone. He wants all of this to stop. He wants to go away.

"I know," Divad says, pained. "But you need it, okay? We can't heal on our own. We need other people to help us, to teach us how to be healthy. The monster was always in the way of that before, but-- He's not inside us anymore. Just his ideas and-- Ideas can be changed."

"This isn't your lab, it's his," David insists, angry. "It's Amahl's and he's gonna come back." He chokes up, wounded, grieving. Amahl should be here, but David ruined everything. It's all his fault, all of it. Amahl probably hates him now, he should hate him, he should--

David breaks into tears and pulls in on himself, he just wants to go away, he just wants-- But Divad reaches for him, pulls him into his arms. David sobs and tries to push him off, but Divad won't let go.

"Stay," Divad pleads, soft but heartfelt. "I love you. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

It hurts. Everything hurts. But David thinks of-- Amahl holding him while he sobbed, after every nightmare, after every agonizing session, and after-- When he woke up and Dvd and Divad were gone.

"You left me," David accuses, through his tears. "You promised-- You'd never leave and-- You left me!"

"You were taken," Divad says, pleading for him to understand. "The monster ripped you away from us, David. He broke our heart. All we wanted was to get you back. We tried so hard and I'm sorry, I'm sorry we weren't stronger, I'm sorry I was-- I was so stupid, thinking I knew how to save us. How to protect you."

"You left me," David whines.

Divad sighs. "Yes. I'm sorry. I love you, David. I love you so much."

David holds Divad back and feels the faint pull of the scars on his wrists. When he woke up and Dvd and Divad were gone-- It hurt so much. It hurt more than anything ever.

Divad eases his hold and then pulls back. He takes David's arm, looks at his unmarred wrist. He puts his hand over it. He's crying, tears streaking down his face.

"This is my fault, okay?" Divad tells him, voice shaky. "Not yours. It's my fault because I was supposed to keep you safe and I failed. You can be angry with me. Be angry, tell me how you feel. But don't--" He cuts off, leans his cheek against David's wrist.

Divad's tears wet David's skin, and his cheek feels hot. And seeing Divad like this--

David swallows. He's not-- He doesn't know how to--

He looks around and-- Dvd and the other David are watching them, but they’re not angry or upset they're-- They give David encouraging looks, like he should--

David can't say he's angry. He's never been allowed to be angry because-- Everything was always his fault. Divad was always telling him how everything was his fault, how he messed up, how he was stupid. That's why-- Divad had to be in charge, because David could never save them. David knows what he is, he's useless, he's worthless--

"No," Divad says, soft and pained. "You're in so much pain. I'm sorry we made you take so much, that we couldn't-- That we made you worse. Some of that was the monster but-- Some of it was us. Me. You're so strong, David. You're so brave and you try so hard all the time even though-- It hurts every time you breathe. It hurts so much."

"No," David says, tightly. He's not strong or brave, he's weak. He's pathetic and stupid--

"You're strong and brave and amazing and smart," Divad insists, and smiles through his tears. "You're wonderful and loving and caring and you are so, so strong. You're a survivor."

"No," David protests, but weaker.

"I love you," Divad says, certain. "I'm so proud of you. You're amazing and you fight so hard all the time. You're going to heal and you're going to be happy and thrive and you're going to be-- Even more amazing than you already are."

David huffs, but-- Somehow the pain is falling back. He can breathe again without-- Feeling like his lungs can't get any air.

"I love you, David," Divad says again, easing into happiness. "I love you. I love you so much. You're so strong and brave and I'm proud of you and I love you."

"Divad," David protests, softly. "You can't--"

"I can," Divad insists. "Because we're not gonna let the shame win. You deserve to be loved, David. You're a good person and you deserve love. You deserve to heal. You deserve to be safe and cared for and helped and protected, and it's not fair or right that you didn't get those things before but you're gonna get them now. Whether you like it or not."

David looks into Divad's eyes, and there's no sign at all that Divad is lying to him, that he's just saying all these ridiculous things to trick him. If he's the monster-- Or even if he isn't--

Divad rests his hand over David's heart and-- It's not the same as when the other David touches him. But all of Divad's kindness and love and the soft look in his eyes--

David's hand rests over Divad's and holds it. And he feels-- It's not nearly as strong but-- He thinks maybe-- He feels a tiny bit of how-- The other David feels. That warmth and love and-- Healing.

Divad pulls him into his arms again and holds him. David still doesn't understand how any of this is happening, it's all so impossible, it's probably not real or it's just another trick but-- He holds Divad back anyway.

After a long minute, Divad sighs and pulls back, faces him. "What do you think?" he asks, light but needing. "Did we just make a good memory?"

David stares at him, confused, and then-- Remembers what Amy and Ptonomy are doing. Focusing on good memories they made here.

Because this isn't Amahl's lab. It's not even on the right floor. It's-- Their lab.

"That's right," Divad says, warmly. "This is a place for us to heal. A little at a time, like-- We just did." He gives David a hopeful look. "How about-- You help us build it? We'll make it ours."

"Ours?" David echoes, uncertain.

Divad turns. "How about it, docs?"

David turns to see that Ptonomy, Amy, Marcelle, and Miriam are standing just a few feet away. He tenses.

"I think that's a great idea," Miriam says. "How about-- We give you guys somewhere to sit?"

"I'll have the new furniture brought up," Ptonomy says. "What do you think? Same as before, sofa, loveseats, bean bags?"

"I think we'll need an extra seat," the other David says. "How about instead of the beanbags-- Another sofa?"

"Perfect," Ptonomy says, pleased. He turns to David. "This is our home. We want it to be your home, too."

"You like to sit by the window, right?" the other David says. "So you can feel like-- Even when you're inside, you're still part of the world."

David gives a surprised nod. Whenever he had a moment to just catch his breath, which Amahl rarely gave him-- He liked to sit by the window. Look out at the world and-- Pretend he was part of it.

That's how he felt when he was inside their body, too broken to do anything but look out of their eyes. He would watch as Divad lived their life better than he ever could and-- Pretended it was himself, succeeding, making people happy and proud.

"David," Divad says, softly drawing his attention again. "We're already proud of you. You're already succeeding. You're fighting to heal, like you always did. The difference is-- Now you have help. So it's gonna be okay."

David can't possibly believe any of that. "You don't know that," he protests.

"I know," Divad says, certain. "Because you did it before. The other half of you? He was in a lot of pain, too. He didn't think he could be saved. But we helped him save himself. And now we're gonna do the same for you."

"I don't--" David starts, shaking his head, but-- That tiny sense of healing-- It didn't go away when Divad stopped touching him. No one's touching him. It's just-- His. And knowing-- The other David feels that but-- So much more--

It hurts to hope. He shouldn't hope, it's just-- It only makes him hurt more when he inevitably fails. But all of this is-- It's so different and strange and-- Divad's never looked at him this way, or said these things to him. David's never felt-- The way the other David feels.

If this is a trick-- Maybe it doesn't matter. If he's going to hurt anyway, if he's going to suffer no matter what-- Maybe it's okay to-- Go along with it. Let the monster trick him, so he can feel better for a little while. His pain has been so absolute. If the trick is-- A sort of kindness, then-- Let the monster be kind.

Divad sighs. "You know what? I'll take it. Baby steps, right?" He looks to Dvd and the other David.

"Baby steps," the other David agrees.

Chapter 168: Day 14: We had rather different tastes. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

Melanie takes another sip of her coffee-- And realized her mug is empty again.

"Another refill?" Oliver asks.

Melanie considers the offer. Perhaps she's had enough caffeine for now. Enough of everything. "No, thanks," she says, and sets the mug and tablet aside.

She stands up and stretches, rubs her face. Tries to-- Keep down everything she read and watched. She's no stranger to abuse, or even to the abuse David suffered. And yet--

She never had a face for the monster, before. David only knew the masks. All of this could still be lies, but-- She can hardly imagine Division 3 coming up with it. There's just so much. And it's not just a few tests, or one person's perspective. Something this complex and in-depth could only be-- Real.

Except none of it matches what she remembers.

Except what she remembers-- She's missing so many things. What she wrote about her life-- Some of it feels real, solid, but the moment she steps away from those-- Islands of memory-- She's lost.

There's a knock on the door, and then-- Melanie feels a rush of relief to see Syd returning. She walks up to her, ready to hug her, but-- Syd holds up her hand, steps back.

"My powers," Syd reminds her. "It's not safe."

"Oh," Melanie says, disappointed, confused. Syd doesn't have powers. But apparently she does. So much between the two realities is-- Reversed. Up and down, good and bad, human and mutant.

There's a man behind Syd. Melanie doesn't recognize him. "Who's this?" she asks.

"Clark," the man says, and offers his hand. Apparently he's safe to touch.

Melanie reaches out to shake his hand, and then-- Remembers the name. Remembers his face in some of the video clips. "You're in charge of Division 3." She pulls back her hand.

Clark drops his hand. "Yes."

Melanie crosses her arms. "You're the one who surrendered to Summerland. To me. In this-- Story I've been told."

"I facilitated a strategic alliance," Clark corrects.

Melanie smirks, amused. What a perfectly military euphemism for losing. She always dreamed of a moment like this. Strange to think -- at least in the story -- she already had it.

"Melanie," Syd says. "We were thinking-- How would you like to go outside? We could get lunch."

Melanie looks at her in surprise. "Aren't I a prisoner?"

"Of course not," Syd says. "You're our friend. You're Oliver's wife."

Melanie rounds on Clark. "And the head of Division 3 is letting me go?" she challenges.

"Technically you're still an employee," Clark says. "As your boss, legally I'm required to give you a lunch break." He gives a tight smirk.

"Cute," Melanie says, dryly. "All right. I could use some fresh air."

Oliver, Syd, and Clark accompany her out of the room. Melanie is surprised that they actually take her out of there, and frankly astonished when they lead her out of the building and into the streets.

They walk a few blocks, then stop at a cafe with a bar. They sit with Syd and Clark on one side, and Melanie and Oliver on the other. The waitress gives them menus and water. It's all bafflingly normal.

Melanie watches Syd over her menu. The way she holds herself-- Syd's always been self-contained, but she feels-- Different. According to the story, the Syd she knows as her daughter was nothing more than a mask, and behind the mask was-- Her husband.

Of course Syd's like her father. Of course she is. What daughter isn't at least a little bit like her father?

The waitress returns. Melanie gives her order first. It's been a while since she had the chance to actually choose what she wants to eat, after months of eating whatever Amahl's mother made. She goes for her favorite, a Reuben sandwich with a martini cocktail.

Oliver stares at her, both amused and disturbed, and then orders the exact same meal. Which feels-- Right, somehow? Perhaps because she's so used to everyone having the same thing.

And then Syd orders a salad and a mineral water, and that just feels wrong. Clark breaks the pattern further, getting a burger and a bourbon on the rocks.

Melanie tries to shake it off. She's just-- They were all holed up in that lab for a long time. It's normal for people to order different things, to want different things, she knows that.

But it's just-- That's not Amahl's dream.

"You should've ordered the Reuben," she tells Syd, annoyed.

Syd raises her eyebrows. "I don't-- Like Reubens?"

Melanie wants to argue that of course Syd likes Reubens, but-- She can't actually remember if that's true. "Still," she says, disturbed on several levels. "It's not polite." She feels childish, saying that, and yet somehow also that Syd is still the one in the wrong.

"Not polite to order what I want?" Syd asks, amused and annoyed.

Melanie tries to explain, but can't. "No," she admits, backing down. "I'm sorry, it's been-- A difficult morning." To say the least.

She looks away, frowning. People pass by on the street, on foot, in cars, on bicycles. She considers making a run for it, but-- She can't leave David in that place. Her David, not-- The older David who pretended to be him.

Except they're both the same person, apparently. One soul in two bodies. Maybe she should save them both? But she can't even save herself.

Thank god the waitress brings their drinks quickly. Melanie takes a long sip, then another. She grimaces.

"I want to see David," she says, "My David. I need to know he's okay."

"He's not," Syd says, with great feeling in her eyes but not her voice.

"He's having a very difficult time," Oliver soothes. "But his system is helping him."

Melanie scoffs. David doesn't have a system, it was just the monster's tricks. Or that's what she was certain of for months. She takes another sip and suppresses a grimace. "I think this martini is off."

"Mine seems perfectly fine," Oliver says. He offers his for her to try, but she declines. "Perhaps it's because you don't like martinis. Or rather, you didn't."

"Of course I like them," Melanie says. She remembers that very clearly. "It's been a while, it wouldn't have been-- Appropriate to drink in the lab."

"I remember when you tried to acquire a taste for them," Oliver says, nostalgically. "You made that same grimace every time until you finally gave up."

To prove him wrong, Melanie takes another sip, a big one. She grimaces, shudders. Frustrated, she pushes her glass away.

"That doesn't prove anything," she insists. "If they made it right it would taste fine."

"There's only two ingredients," Clark mutters.

"Three if you count the olive," Oliver offers. "You didn't like to indulge, perhaps because I drank too much. But when you did, you liked wine. Auslese, Tokay, Moscato." He smiles. "Light and sweet," he says, fondly.

Melanie crinkles her nose. "Too sweet."

"See, that's exactly what I'd say," Oliver sighs. He raises his hand, and seconds later their water returns. "A glass of your finest Moscato, if you don't mind. And quickly."

"That's really not necessary," Melanie protests.

"Humor me," Oliver says. "At the very least, you're getting free wine."

The wine arrives. Melanie picks up the glass and gives it a skeptical look. Then, staring Oliver down, she takes a sip.

It's good. It's very good. She frowns, unsettled.

Oliver's visibly fighting a smile, but it breaks through anyway.

"Don't say a word," Melanie tells him. She goes to put the glass aside, but-- Finds she wants another sip. She takes it. It's so much better than the martini.

"You did something to me," she accuses.

"Your body doesn't match your mind," Syd says. "Your body-- Remembers the truth your mind forgot. Just like David."

"You have a mind reader," Melanie says, annoyed. "Maybe all this is just his tricks."

"I would never do that to you," Oliver says, and he seems genuinely upset. "Never."

"I don't even know who you are," Melanie says.

"No," Oliver says, sadly. "But I very much hope that you will."

The food arrives. Melanie stares at her Reuben warily. "Tell me, does the-- Melanie in your story like this?"

"Not especially," Oliver admits. "We had-- Rather different tastes."

"You don't have to eat it," Syd offers. "Order something else."

"Give it a try," Clark says, clearly amused. "Take a big bite."

Melanie narrows her eyes at him, and then just to prove a point she does take a big bite. She grimaces. She won't give him the satisfaction of seeing her spit it out, so she has to force herself to choke it down.

"No," she says, and there's not much room on the table but she pushes the plate away the inch she can.

"Have some of Clark's burger," Oliver suggests.

"She can get her own," Clark says. But with a sigh he picks up half the burger and offers it.

Melanie takes it. It's delicious.

She looks at the two meals, the two drinks. She tries each of them again, with the same results. It just doesn't make sense. People's tastes don't fundamentally change overnight. Food preferences evolve over time, certainly, but-- Preferences for bitter and sweet, for sour and savory-- They start to form in the womb. Genetic factors, the mother's diet--

"It doesn't make sense," she mutters, baffled. But of course, it would make perfect sense if their story is true.

There's a buzzing sound, and Clark pulls out his phone. He reads something and sighs.

"Is that--" Syd starts.

Clark nods.

Syd gives him an expectant look. Clark hands over the phone, and Syd reads it aloud. "I trust you."

Clark takes the phone back and stares at it.

There wasn't much about Clark in the tablet files Melanie read, beyond his role at Division 3. "What's that about?" she asks, grateful for the distraction.

"My husband," Clark says. "We've been--" He hesitates.

"They've been having a spat," Oliver says, and then winks at Clark.

"It's not a spat," Clark says, unamused. "It's a discussion between mature adults."

Ah, marital trouble. Now that's a topic Melanie can handle. "What are you discussing?"

Clark gives her a look that screams 'none of your business,' but he replies anyway. "The future of humanity and if any of us will live to see it."

Melanie blinks. "That's quite a serious topic. I take it-- It has to do with our situation here?" Most of the files were focused on David and his relationships, but the information on his relationship with the Divisions was something she read with great interest. "The Divisions can't accept they've lost?"

"We didn't lose," Clark replies. "We had -- and still have -- a mutual concern."

"And when that's gone?" Melanie asks. She doesn't believe that Amahl is David's monster, but she's interested in the alliance between mutants and the Divisions. If nothing else, maybe when all this madness is over, she can use this experience to help fix things for real. "In this story, you see-- David Haller as a nuclear bomb. Something you can use. I think he's more like-- An asteroid barrelling down, and you're the dinosaurs."

Clark gives a startled laugh. "Should I learn to fly like a bird?"

Melanie gives him a quizzical look.

"You're still catching up," Clark says. "But we've had this conversation. We're past it."

"If you were past it, you wouldn't still be struggling over what to do," Melanie counters. “The Divisions wouldn’t be looking for an excuse to go back to genocide.”

Clark looks away and gives a heavy sigh.

“Maybe I can help,” Melanie offers. “According to your story, I helped convince the Divisions that mutants aren't a threat. That we should be allowed to live our lives in peace." She pauses, considering that. "Honestly that part of your little story needs work."

"Does it?" Clark asks. He seems amused and-- Curious.

"Everything else about your story proves exactly how powerful mutants are," Melanie points out. "The war didn't end because mutants are weak. It ended because we're so strong you don't have a chance at winning against us. So either the Melanie in your story was a fool, or you were lying to her."

"He was lying," Syd says, certain.

Clark glares at her. Syd stares him down.

"Yes, I was lying," Clark grits out. "We told you what you wanted to hear."

"And I bought it?" Melanie challenges.

"You were-- Distracted," Clark says, and glances at Oliver.

"You'd just got Oliver back, and then you lost him again," Syd says, sympathetic. "I think-- Even though you got what you always wanted, the end of the war-- The price was so high--"

"Your story said I became depressed," Melanie says.

"Part of that was real," Syd says. "Part of it was-- Farouk preying on you, giving you detachment syndrome, messing with your mind. We-- I missed both parts. I'm sorry for that."

"I don't remember any of that," Melanie protests. "Because it didn't happen."

"It did," Syd says, her eyes clear and focused on Melanie. "You gave all of us so much, but when you needed us, we failed you. That's how he was able to take you, take your memories. Use you."

It's more than a little disturbing for Melanie to have her own daughter saying all these things. She believes in this story so strongly. She must have been brainwashed, but why? Why all of this? To turn Melanie against Amahl? He's just-- A human doctor. A wonderful man with a brilliant mind, with dreams to help the world but-- Hardly worth all this.

She's the one they were always after, but-- They already have her. With her powers disabled, they could have just-- Thrown her in one of their cells and never let her see the light of day again. Or executed her outright. Trying to trick her into believing her life isn't real, that she's Melanie Bird and not Melanie Farouk-- She just doesn't see the sense of it.

"A wise friend of mine recently said, the best way to heal is to focus on the positive," Oliver says. "And as Syd said, you gave all of us a great deal. I think the best way to show you the truth of this 'story' is to give you the opportunity to experience the most wonderful part of it."

"Which is?" Melanie asks, warily.

"Summerland," Oliver says. "Melanie Farouk never had a Summerland. As her, you worked alone. But Melanie Bird was never alone. As her, you created a community and used it to help thousands of mutants and the people they love. Farouk took that away from you, but you can take it back."

Melanie feels she has to protest, even though-- When she read about Summerland on the tablet, when she saw what it used to be-- She's always felt like-- Something was missing. She loves her work, helping sick people all over the world, but-- A mutant therapeutic community--

It's absurd that idea this would come from the Divisions.

"None of that is real," she says, with more certainty than she actually has.

"Finish your lunch," Oliver says, mildly. "And you can decide that for yourself."

Melanie gives him a skeptical look, then looks down at her lunch again. Both lunches. Her favorite foods that don't taste like her favorites at all. Because apparently she only remembers them being her favorites, and the truth is-- They're not.

Is that the truth? Could all of this actually be the truth?

"This-- Communal therapy," Melanie starts. "It's for David? My David?"

"Yes," Oliver says.

"So if I agree to-- Participate-- You'll let me see him?"

"Absolutely," Oliver says. "We'll all be together. The four of us, all the Davids, Ptonomy and Lenny and Amy, and hopefully the Karies--"

"Amy," Melanie says, souring. She was more than happy to knock Amy out, after what she did to David. Even if the story says that wasn't Amy at all-- Her cruelty was devastating to David.

"The monster is very cruel," Oliver says, gravely. "You should speak with Amy. Get to know who she truly is. Perhaps you can help heal what the monster tore apart."

Melanie gives him a skeptical look, but-- If nothing else, she wants to finally give Amy Haller a piece of her mind. "Oh, I'll talk to her," she says, her determination growing.

"Wonderful!" Oliver declares.

Melanie raises her eyebrows at him, but picks up her half-burger to finish it. She needs to see David as soon as possible, and figure out a way to get him out of this place and back to Amahl. Possibly-- Both Davids, and she can hardly leave Syd behind. But saving three people is more difficult than saving one, especially when two of them aren't themselves at all.

And then she remembers. She can't shield her thoughts without her powers. "You just heard that," she says to Oliver. It's not a question.

"Every word," Oliver replies, unbothered.

"And you still want to let me near him?" Melanie challenges. "Knowing that-- I have to save him?" Even though she rejects the idea that Amahl Farouk is the monster?

"Of course you want to save him, you're Melanie Bird," Oliver says, cheerfully. "Saving people is what you do."

Melanie stares at him, but Oliver just takes a big bite of his Reuben and moans with delight. She looks at Clark, at Syd, wondering what the trick is. But they just go back to eating their food, too.

Melanie gives a frustrated huff and shakes her head. "It is," she insists. Saving people has always been what she does. She just wishes she could be sure of anything else.

Chapter 169: Day 14: All he wanted was to get back what he lost. (David)

Chapter Text

David's in control. He's being held by his system and he's safe and loved and in control. The monster is gone, Farouk is gone and he can't get back in no matter how much he wants to.

'You've got this,' Divad thinks, encouraging.

David can feel Dvd loving him intensely, and the love is tinged with longing and regret now but it's still so strong.

'I've got this,' David thinks, determined. He's not gonna let Farouk stop his system from healing. He refuses to be afraid of his headmates. They're a system and they love each other and they deserve to be able to share their body together.

When they all move their hand together, their stomach still wobbles. But David pushes on. They carefully take hold of their sandwich and lift it to their mouth. They take a bite and then chew with a steady pace, bite and grind, bite and grind. David's never been so acutely aware of every single step of eating, but when they finally swallow, they feel triumphant.

'Yesss,' Dvd hisses, sharing a rush of satisfaction, relief, joy.

There's relief from Divad, too, but also-- A hint of fear.

'Divad?' David thinks, concerned.

'I'm still not used to you worrying about me,' Divad thinks, wryly. They glance at Past David, who's working his way through his own sandwich with little enthusiasm.

'I should have,' David thinks, regretful, but-- Recognizing that in the past, he was simply in too much pain to engage with the pain of others. He only has to look at Past David to see that.

'Don't change the subject,' Dvd thinks. 'Spill it.'

David feels Divad's reluctant amusement, and the slow warmth of his gratitude. 'I guess-- Being back together like this-- It reminds me of what we used to have.' And then there's the fear again, small but real. 'I don't want to stop, I just--'

'We're not gonna do this if it hurts you,' Dvd thinks, insistent, hurt, sorry.

'I'm okay,' Divad insists. 'David needs to practice with us.'

'We don't hurt our system,' Dvd insists. And David can feel him gathering himself to step out.

'Please don't,' Divad says, and that stops Dvd. Then he pauses. 'It does hurt. But I've been alone in our body a lot, and-- That hurts, too.'

David focuses on his love for Divad, his gratitude for all the ways that Divad has helped him heal. And then Dvd joins in, reluctant but caring, and they can feel Divad's pain ease.

'We're not gonna go back,' David tells Divad. 'We love you. We're a system and we share our body with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness.'

The words are as soothing for David as they are for Divad, for Dvd. They smile to themselves, then raise the sandwich and take another bite.

It's a little easier this time. The more love their system feels, the easier it is to focus on that instead of the pain Farouk left behind. David knows now that the feeling of sharing Farouk used, that Farouk manipulated him with-- It belonged to their system first. His memory of sharing Syd's body was a good memory because sharing with his system meant so much to him for so long. This is how they work and David remembers that now, and fuck the shit beetle for thinking he could claim it for himself.

'Fuck the shit beetle,' Dvd agrees.

David feels the protectiveness, the possessiveness behind his words. It's reassuring but also-- A lot. Dvd's longing for him has been so much stronger since they met with Past David. David asked Dvd to-- Acknowledge their feelings without acting on them, but Past David didn't. Past David might be trying to avoid thinking about his feelings for Dvd, but David can feel them anyway, and Dvd can feel him feeling them.

Process relationship with Dvd. One of the very long list of things on David's To-Do list. It feels even more impossible that they'll get through all of them now. And all his issues feel irrelevant next to the trauma that's coming for him, all twenty years of it.

'It's gonna be okay,' Divad soothes.

But Dvd turns their eyes to Past David, and the longing they feel for him is so strong it hurts.

'Sorry,' Dvd thinks, and then-- Steps out. And the longing eases, felt only through their minds and not their body.

"Dvd," David protests, but lets him go.

Past David gives them a curious look. Dvd walks away from the sitting area, into the empty space where the beds used to be. Past David turns and watches him, a jumble of emotions leaking out of him. Longing, love, need, violation, horror, guilt, shame, terror--

It's hard enough for David to feel all that secondhand. Thank god Ptonomy found a way to keep them separate.

He thinks that, and then he feels terrible for thinking that. All he wanted for the past two weeks was to get back what he lost, to get back who he was, for David Haller to be whole. But the reality of all that pain, all those feelings, all those memories--

'Maybe we should do some foundation work,' Divad thinks.

They sigh. "Maybe we should," David says aloud. Their notebooks and tablets are stacked on the coffee table. They reach for them and--

The lab door opens. They straighten up as Oliver walks in, followed by Melanie and Clark and-- Syd. Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny look up from their notebooks and tablets and greet them.

Past David tenses up, then feels intensely relieved, then just as intensely afraid. David does his best to ride through it, grateful that Divad is feeling it all with him. He focuses on Divad, on loving Divad, on the love Divad has for him, and Past David's feelings are easier to bear.

From across the room, David can feel Dvd's heartache.

"Could do with a lick of paint, but it's a start," Oliver declares.

Melanie is looking around the room, and her confusion feels very much like how Past David felt when he first came in. And then she looks at David and Divad, and then everyone is looking at David and Divad, everyone. It's too much, trying to share with all this going on. David apologizes to Divad and steps out of their body as hurriedly as Dvd did, then sits down next to Divad.

Melanie stares at them.

"Uh, hello," Divad says, and offers his hand to Melanie. "I'm Divad, that's David. We were just-- Practicing sharing our body."

"Oh," Melanie says. 'This is Divad? The monster's mask or David's alter-- Headmate? Either way--' She looks at his hand warily, then takes it and gives it a firm shake. "Melanie Farouk," she says, confidently.

Everyone but Past David cringes.

"Melanie?" Past David asks, uncertain. 'Is that really her?'

"David," Melanie says, relief pouring off her as she sits down between him and Lenny. She takes his arm, holds it firmly. "I'm going to get you home," she promises.

"Melanie," Syd says, intervening. "Both of you are already home."

Melanie and Past David both stare at Syd. "Syd?" Past David asks, uncertain.

Syd falters, then takes a steadying breath. She sits down in the loveseat beside them. "We were never properly introduced. I'm Sydney Barrett."

Syd holds out her gloved hand, and Past David cautiously shakes it. "Barrett?" he asks.

"Sydney Barrett," Syd says again. "My mother was Joan Barrett. My father was-- Absent. I'm not a med student. I didn't even finish college. I was arrested and put in a mental hospital, and that's where I met-- Your other half." She gives a small smile, glances at David, then back to Past David. "We fell in love. Some things happened and now-- We're trying to work things out."

Past David tries and clearly fails to absorb all of that. "You're my girlfriend?" he asks, astonished.

"In a way," Syd allows. "I'm-- Friends with your system. I'd like us to be friends, too."

"But we--" Past David starts, then stops. 'But that was-- Syd Farouk? They're not the same Syd? But it was her. This is so confusing.'

"But we what?" Syd prompts.

'I don't want to talk about it,' Past David thinks, and pulls in on himself. "Nothing."

He turns away from her, ending the conversation. Syd leans back, mildly offended but-- Also relieved. She turns to David, and David musters a small smile for her. 'Sorry,' he thinks to her, sending the thought to her mind.

'It's okay,' Syd thinks, giving him a small smile back.

As brief as the exchange is, it helps David feel better. They rarely talked like this in the past because she didn't like acknowledging he could hear her thoughts. But now everything's out in the open and-- Sharing thoughts with her feels like sharing thoughts with his system, an act of intimacy and trust.

Trust Syd again. That's on his To-Do list, too. Should he cross it off? He wants to but-- He's not sure he's ready yet.

But before he can focus on that, he notices Melanie looking angrily at Amy, and Amy giving her a determined look back.

"Melanie," Amy says, with deliberate calm.

"Amy," Melanie says, matching her calm, but with more effort. Then she turns to Past David. "David, if you don't want her here, I'll make her leave."

Past David and Amy look at each other for a long moment. Then he shakes his head. "No, it's-- She can stay."

"I know how she hurt you," Melanie says, concerned.

"It wasn't her," Past David says, fresh pain in his eyes. "It was the monster. It wasn't real." 'Nothing's real. But I don't want to make the monster upset. Please, Melanie, don't upset it.'

David quickly realizes that Past David still expects Melanie to be able to hear his thoughts. She can't, but between Oliver and David, everyone else can. Syd included.

David thinks it's funny that after everything, Past David is the one who ended up sharing the relay with Syd. It's less funny that Past David genuinely thinks everyone else is the monster.

"Gang's all here, huh?" Lenny says.

"Almost," Oliver says. "But I've been considering the Karies' situation. May I?" He says the last to Syd, who slides over to make room on the loveseat. "David," he says, meeting Past David's eyes. "I understand you've accepted that you're in the wrong body."

Past David automatically puts his hands over his wrists, protective. "Yeah. The-- Karies? Cary and Kerry."

"Yes," Oliver says, with a soft smile. "You were able to see them before, but only briefly." He turns to Amy and Lenny. "Your situation was similar, I understand. Lenny, you were able to see Amy in dreams and when your mind was in an altered state."

"You mean when I was high off my tits?" Lenny says. "Yeah, sure."

Oliver turns back to Past David. "The Karies were able to reach you in similar moments. Their souls are connected to yours. That's how you can see them. Does that make sense?" He gives Past David an expectant look.

"Um, I guess," Past David says.

Dvd wanders back over, curious. He stands behind Past David and crosses his arms, looking like he's Past David's bodyguard, but doesn't interfere.

"I know they were a bit frightening before, but they're our friends," Oliver continues. "We care about them very much, and we need to be able to speak with them. I think I can find a way to make them-- Present to you, without any need for altered states of mind. But to do that I'll need to-- Boost the connection between your souls. Would it be all right if I do that?"

Past David gives him a wary look. He looks to Melanie, then David, then back to Oliver. "Will it hurt?"

"Not at all," Oliver assures him. "You won't feel a thing."

"Um. Okay?"

"Wonderful," Oliver says, his smile wider. "Just hold still."

Past David holds very still, eyes wide as Oliver presses one hand to Past David's chest, and reaches the other above Past David's head. There was nothing there, but then suddenly-- David can see two faintly glowing threads pressed against Oliver's fingers. Oliver does-- Something David absolutely doesn't understand, but looks a little like conducting an orchestra. And then the strings vibrate, glow brighter, and then--

"Oh!" Past David startles, stares.

"Do you see them?" Ptonomy asks, eagerness slipping out.

"Almost done," Oliver says. He makes a few more gestures, presses his hand firmly to the top of Past David's head, and then sits back. Without his touch, the strings are gone, or-- Invisible again. "Cary? Kerry?" he calls, looking roughly where Past David is staring. He turns back to Past David. "Can you hear them? Are they saying anything?"

"Uh, yeah," Past David says, still staring. He swallows. "Cary says, uh, thank you, Oliver. And Kerry says 'Finally' and-- She says--" He pauses. "She says being invisible is a lot more boring than she expected."

"Oliver, this is fantastic," Ptonomy says, grinning. He seems-- More relaxed, somehow, than he usually is.

"We should give them somewhere to sit," Amy says. "Like we did for Divad and Dvd, before we could see them. How about the loveseat again?"

Amy slides closer to David, and Ptonomy joins her on the sofa. David takes Amy's hand and gives it a light squeeze. Past David watches as Cary and Kerry presumably walk over to the loveseat and sit down.

"Welcome back," Amy says, giving the loveseat a warm smile. "How are you two holding up?"

Everyone turns back to Past David.

"Um, Cary says-- They're all right," Past David relays. "But he's very much looking forward to getting all this sorted out. He wants to know-- If he can help?"

"Always," Oliver answers. "We'll be assembling some technology later. David, would you be all right relaying for Cary, to help us get things set up correctly?"

"Uh, okay," Past David says.

He's being a lot more calm about the Karies than he was before, but at this point he just thinks they're more masks. The monster talking to itself. Why be scared of that when he's already decided to go along with the rest of the monster's madness?

David was relieved before, when Past David started to accept them. And then Divad seemed to make so much progress here in the lab. But Past David's whole state of mind is worrying. Maybe he just needs time, but-- He's so completely ungrounded. The only real thing he has is an uncertain belief that he and David are two halves of a single person. And if they make him a separate identity, he won't even have that. But what other choice do they have? Letting the two of them become one David would be devastating to their whole system.

Maybe everything will be okay. But David doesn't feel okay. Maybe it's just Past David's feelings upsetting him again. Even when his system is sharing their body, he can tell where the feelings are coming from. But it's so hard to separate his own feelings from Past David's feelings. And calm as he is on the outside, Past David's in a constant state of terror and despair.

'You're okay,' Divad soothes. He takes David's other hand, and David holds it tight.

"Clark?" Amy calls. "Come join us."

"I'm good," Clark says. He still standing back, body tense, arms crossed.

"What would Minnie say?" Syd challenges, with a smirk.

Clark glares at her, then sighs in resignation. He looks for where to sit, and the only open seat left is between Lenny and Melanie. He takes it, but isn’t happy about it.

"Looks like we're short a seat," Lenny points out.

"I'm good," Dvd says.

"We'll get an extra chair," Ptonomy says. "We need to rebuild the rest of the room. A new table, new beds. Cary's work area. We'll do it all together."

"Can't wait," Clark mutters. Then he turns to David and gives him a scrutinizing look. "If you're going to blow this place up again, let me know so I can leave first."

Everyone looks at David again.

"That wasn't me," David says, strained.

"No, but you're the half that's not wearing the crown," Clark says.

"David?" Amy says, concerned.

David takes his hands back. "Sorry, I'm just--" He doesn't finish. He doesn't even know where to start.

"David," Syd says, in a way that's firm, but-- Not angry.

David meets her eyes. She has that-- Steadiness to her that always soothed him in Clockworks, in Summerland. Like she's solid rock that everything else is rushing past. She doesn't even say anything. She doesn't have to.

He breathes out, slumps.

"Sorry," David says again, shaky. "Everything's--" He stops, gestures formlessly.

Ptonomy gets it, of course. "David, you’ve had a really rough morning. How about another session?"

"Please," David says, needing.

"Where would you like to have it?" Ptonomy asks. "Here? In the loft? The garden?"

David knows he should be modeling for Past David. He should show Past David what it means to do the work. But-- "The garden? Alone."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, accepting. He stands up, then looks through the notebooks and tablets and grabs David's, hands them over. "That was really good work, David. You're doing great."

David doesn't feel like he's doing great. He feels awful and useless. But he can't say anything like that in front of Past David. He stands up and takes a few steps away, but before he can leave, Dvd grabs him and gives him a tight hug.

"Is he okay?" Past David asks, worried.

"He's upset," Syd explains. "He needs to talk about it with his therapist, work through his feelings. That's what we're all doing."

"You are?" Past David asks, surprised.

"We are," Syd says. "It's what's helping all of us get better. So we can heal, and not hurt ourselves or each other."

David pulls back, and Dvd lets him go.

"Back soon," David says, softly. He follows Ptonomy out of the lab.

Chapter 170: Day 14: Cross out your trauma, mark it done? (David)

Chapter Text

David finishes copying a round of his foundation work and sets aside his pen. It's the NOs that he needed most this time, written firmly into the page. Sometimes he only needs a few, and sometimes he wants to fill up a whole notebook again, to write NO until his hand hurts and his pen runs dry.

I am David. I survived.

'Ready?' Ptonomy asks, through the mainframe link.

Davids nods, breathes out, in. Focuses on the breeze against his skin and in his hair, the warmth of the sun coming up from the concrete, even in the shade. He's calm, he's okay.

'Where would you like to start?' Ptonomy asks.

'What if we can't help him?' David thinks, and feels very much not calm or okay. 'He's in so much pain. What's wrong with Farouk that he wants to hurt me so much? That he already did all that to me? What if-- I can’t share my system with Past David without losing myself?'

'Those are some big questions,' Ptonomy admits.

'And Dvd,' David continues, feeling like the pressure inside him still needs release. 'And Syd. And even-- Divad's relationship with him. And Melanie. I feel how he feels and-- It's not how I feel, except where it is, and I have enough trouble figuring out how I feel and what I want and what to do and he's terrified all the time, god he's so afraid and--'

He forces himself to stop.

'Sounds like you're tangled up again,' Ptonomy soothes.

'Like fishing line,' David thinks, tersely.

'Dealing with Past David and Melanie, that's kept us from pushing forward with your therapy,' Ptonomy says. 'I know you've been making a lot of progress on your own, especially with your headmates. I'm really impressed with how well you're sharing today.'

David's tension goes down a notch. 'Yeah. It's--' He pauses. 'Sharing was ours and Farouk stole it from us. He used it to control me and hurt me. I need to take it back.'

'And you are,' Ptonomy says. 'Your system is doing so well. You're sharing when you want to share, when it feels healthy and right. The three of you are in control, and you're taking care of yourselves and each other.'

David feels Dvd and Divad's reactions, and how Ptonomy's praise helps their tension go down, too. Because they hear what he hears, telepathically. 'This is more like group therapy than a solo session,' he points out.

'Every session you have is group therapy,' Ptonomy says, lightly teasing. 'But try to focus on your own feelings, on this space. Turn down the volume on everything else as much as you can.

David nods, and does his best to do just that.

'Tell me how you feel,' Ptonomy says. 'Not your headmates, not Past David. You.'

'Afraid,' David admits. 'Terrified, actually. Um. Angry, furious. Completely violated.'

'Aside from Past David, and how his existence affects your relationships-- What's the biggest thing on your mind?'

'Farouk,' David answers, honestly. 'What he did to me. All of it.'

'Your Farouk trauma,' Ptonomy says, understanding. 'We didn't get very far with that yesterday.'

'No.'

'Do you think you're ready to work on that now?'

'No,' David admits. 'But-- I need to.'

'Okay,' Ptonomy says. 'Would you like someone here with you, for support? Lenny, Amy?'

David hesitates. 'Lenny?' He hates making her face this with him, but-- He needs her. God, he's so selfish. He shouldn't-- God, he should--

'Shame attack,' he thinks, tightly.

'You caught that fast,' Ptonomy says, impressed. 'Great work, David. You're doing so well. Lenny's coming right up.'

It's not the worst attack David's ever had and they caught it early. He reaches out to Dvd and Divad and he feels their love, their support, and that helps him fight the shame. By the time Lenny arrives with a tissue box and a water bottle, the worst of the attack has already passed.

He still feels like crap, but at least he knows it's his own feeling-like-crap.

"Thanks," he tells Lenny, and takes a sip from the water bottle.

"Amy wants to get the rest of the lab set up," Lenny says, casually. "Mind if they go ahead without us?"

"Sure," David says. It's-- Actually soothing, thinking of them all working together, rebuilding. He flashes Lenny a grateful smile.

His smile vanishes as he turns back to his notebook. He pulls out the loose sheets from the back. Farouk Trauma, he reads.

He looks at the trauma list, at the goals. He feels like he's doing well with the goals. Healing his system, healing himself. But 'Process my trauma so I can let it go'--

'I don't like-- Thinking about what he did to me,' he starts. 'I don't think I ever have. Seeing-- Myself. As I was.' He pauses. 'I thought I knew how bad it could get. What it felt like to-- Be pushed past my limits.' He swallows, feeling the ghost of the cord. Thinking of the scars on Past David's wrists. 'Dvd and Divad said-- They didn't know how to fix me. And I mean-- Of course they didn't. Look at me.'

'Past David's in very bad shape,' Ptonomy agrees, sympathetic. 'But that doesn't mean he can't be helped.'

'I know,' David says, but it's more of an automatic defense than something he actually believes. He pauses, then: 'Farouk made me what I am. What does it mean if I don't want to be me anymore?'

'You are you,' Ptonomy reminds him.

'Maybe Past David should just be David, and I should be-- I don't know. Someone else. That's what I am.'

David looks to Lenny, knowing she understands exactly how he feels. Maybe Melanie will, too, when she starts to remember. If she still can.

Lenny starts to talk but David interrupts. 'And don't tell me I'm the ship.'

Lenny snorts. 'Okay, forget the ship,' she sighs. 'Look, do you want to be Past David? Do you really want to go back to who you were?'

'No,' David thinks, certain.

'Then don't,' Lenny says. 'You've worked fucking hard to be Now David. Stop making Past David the standard. Past Lenny? She was a disaster, too. I don't wanna go back to that and guess what? I don't have to.'

'But you're getting your body back,' David says.

'I'll get clearer versions of my memories,' Lenny agrees. 'And yeah, being in my real body's gonna change me. But the whole point of the ship--'

David groans.

'The point of the ship is that we're always changing,' Lenny continues. 'You don't just freeze one moment in time. Which Past David is the real David? Before his mind split? When he was a mess after his mom died? When he was a passenger? Or when Farouk took him out to play again?'

David huffs. 'Lenny--'

'Which Now David is the real Now David?' Lenny continues. 'When you were flunking college? When you and Benny were stealing shit for drug money? When you were--'

'Okay, okay,' David says, surrendering. 'I get your point.'

'You better,' Lenny warns. 'I've been babysitting your Past Ass for two days and let me tell you, you're still the same David. But I look at you now, you know what I see? I see you working your Now Ass off trying to get better with everything you've got. Now David is not Farouk's sunrise. He's my friend and I'm fucking proud of him.'

David stares at her, entirely taken aback.

Lenny huffs and stares back.

'I, uh-- Really missed you,' David thinks, touched.

Lenny softens. 'Of course you did. I'm the cruise director.'

'You are,' David agrees. He takes a deep breath and lets it out. Lenny's right, he knows she is. He belongs to himself. She's the one who helped him put those words into his foundation.

'Damn right I did,' Lenny says, visibly proud.

'You do want to be yourself,' Ptonomy tells him. 'You just don't want to go back to being in intense emotional pain. I think that's what this is about. And honestly, that's a healthy reaction. You don't want to suffer or hurt. When you have a shame attack, how do you feel?'

'Like I deserve to suffer,' David thinks. 'I feel-- Like Past David feels.'

'Because he's trapped in a very painful and intense shame attack,' Ptonomy says. 'Just like you were for most of your life. I have every confidence that we can help him manage and minimize those attacks, just like we're doing with you. Your headmates weren't able to help you in the past because they didn't have the right tools, the right knowledge and experience. But they do now, right?'

'They do,' David admits. Dvd and Divad know how to help him now. They know how to help each other, to be a healthy system together. Or at least-- The foundation of it.

'Farouk is the one who defined David as suffering,' Ptonomy points out. 'But that's not your definition of David. Tell me yours.'

David hesitates, uncertain. What is his definition of David? 'Love,' he starts. That's in his foundation, too.

'Good,' Ptonomy says. 'What else? What kind of person do you want to show Past David how to be?'

David barely feels like he's figured that out for himself. But he tries anyway. 'A good person.'

'And what makes a person good?'

David thinks of Lenny and Ptonomy and Oliver and Amy, and everyone who's helped him so much. 'Kindness. Understanding. Um. Giving back.'

'That's something you've wanted for a while, right?' Ptonomy says. 'To give back.'

'Yeah.' David thinks back to how he felt in Summerland, in Clockworks, even when he was slumming it with Benny. 'I don't know where it came from, exactly. I just felt-- Frustrated. I mean, I guess part of it was-- I thought-- If I could just-- Be worth something to someone-- Maybe I wouldn't feel so ashamed.' He swallows, his throat suddenly tight. 'That's how he feels. Past David.'

'He feels worthless unless someone has a use for him,' Ptonomy says.

'Not much good about that,' David admits.

'Humans are social animals,' Ptonomy says. 'We need approval, belonging. If we grow up without healthy ways to get that, we can turn to unhealthy ones. It's healthy to be useful. It's unhealthy to sacrifice yourself as a tool.'

'Or a key,' David thinks, darkly. 'Farouk's using that. My need to feel-- Wanted. Useful.'

'He is,' Ptonomy agrees. 'I think-- It's important to remember that right now, Past David genuinely is you. Not just your past self. He's part of your consciousness now. So why wouldn't he be just as capable of healing as you?'

'He just hurts so much,' David thinks.

'That pain must be overwhelming for both of you,' Ptonomy says, understanding. 'But let's go back a moment. I don't think good and bad are necessarily helpful ways to frame ourselves. It's-- Black and white, right?'

'I guess,' David thinks.

'What if-- The reason you feel this urgency to be a good person-- Is because you feel so bad about yourself? Because that shame is so overwhelming, you can't recognize your own worth. So any validation has to be external.'

David shifts in his seat. 'Probably,' he admits.

'I'm a good person. I deserve love. That was your old mantra, right?'

'One of them,' David thinks. 'I had a few.'

'It's an affirmation, a positive statement we make to try to correct negative thinking,' Ptonomy says. 'They can be very useful. But that brings us back to the fact that your shame was preventing you from feeling that you're good, and that you deserve love.'

'But-- My foundation and mantras, they're affirmations, too,' David thinks, confused. 'Does that mean they're bad?'

'Not at all,' Ptonomy says. 'My point is-- That framing, of simple good or bad-- That's part of your traumatic thinking. If you don't want Farouk to be able to exploit that, you need a new framework. A new way to understand yourself, to define David for both parts of yourself.'

David takes another sip of his water and puzzles over that idea, trying to work through it. He doesn't get very far. 'What does that mean?' he asks.

'It means-- One good or bad action doesn't define your existence,' Ptonomy says. 'Who we are as people is about patterns of behavior. About the choices we make when we have the ability to choose.'

'I don't think I've made many good choices,' David admits. Or possibly any. His life was such a disaster.

'As long as Farouk was in your head, he was in control,' Ptonomy reminds him. 'And even once he was gone, his ideas were still in control. But now you're healing and you're making new choices every day. You chose to help Melanie with kindness, with honesty and empathy. You genuinely helped her, David. Are you proud of that?'

"I guess,' David thinks, shyly. 'I just-- I know what she's going through.'

'You don't want her to suffer,' Ptonomy says. 'You don't want her to go through the pain and confusion you did.'

'Yes.'

'And you learned from your mistakes with Syd,' Ptonomy continues. 'You didn't go in there and try to force Melanie to forget what Farouk did to her.'

David tenses up. 'No.'

'It's normal to make mistakes,' Ptonomy reminds him, gently. 'What's important is that we learn from them. That we do our best to avoid making the same mistakes again. And you did that, David. You learned. You changed your thinking and your behavior. You chose to be a better person through your own actions.'

'But-- Isn't that-- Different?' David protests. 'What I did to Syd--'

'Melanie and Syd were both taken. Their minds were altered so Farouk could use them to hurt you. Both times, you and your headmates worked together to resolve the situation.'

'But it feels totally different,' David insists.

'Why?' Ptonomy presses.

'Because-- Because--' David struggles. Was it different? It feels so different. But the situations are almost identical.

'It's because you're different,' Ptonomy says. 'Your thinking is less traumatized. You're healing, and you're working on making yourself the David you actually want to be.'

'But I don't know who that is,' David protests.

'It's been hard for you to see it,' Ptonomy allows. 'But I think you've always had a sense of who you want to be. Look at your friendship with Lenny. You've been there for each other through some awful things. That's loyalty. Look at your relationship with Syd, the good parts. Right from the beginning, you were respectful of her needs. You prioritized her happiness, even at the cost of your own. Look at your headmates. All three of you have taken care of each other through a lifetime of trauma.'

'But I screwed up so many times,' David protests.

'And you had a monster in your head, torturing you, manipulating your mind,' Ptonomy counters. 'Loyalty, respect, care and trust. Do you think only the bad things should count?'

'Yes,' David thinks, but his heart isn't in it. 'Maybe. I don't know.' He sighs. 'What are you saying?'

'I'm saying-- You're human,' Ptonomy says. 'None of us are absolutely good or bad.'

'Even Farouk?' David challenges.

'Even Farouk,' Ptonomy says.

‘Farouk’s just bad,' Lenny says.

David snorts.

'Let's say-- Farouk at least has the potential to be good,' Ptonomy says. 'You know who you should talk to? Clark.'

'Clark?' David echoes, baffled. 'He hates me.'

'Are you sure?' Ptonomy asks. 'He's in the lab because he wants to change. He wants to be a better person, just like you.'

'I was wondering why he's here,' David thinks. Ever since Past David arrived, David's been too busy to notice what Clark was up to. Though now that he thinks about it-- 'I guess he does feel-- Less angry?'

'He's working on it,' Ptonomy says. 'And the truth is, so is everyone, all the time. Because no one is absolutely good or bad. Being somewhere in the middle-- Is normal. You're normal, David. In this, you're just like everyone else. How does that feel?'

'Confusing,' David admits.

Ptonomy just chuckles.

David rubs his face. This isn't where he expected the session to go. There's so many terrible things on his Farouk Trauma page, so much pain to work through. How's he going to handle Past David's trauma if he can't cross out his own?

'Is that what you think you need to do?' Ptonomy asks, sobering. 'Cross out your trauma, mark it done?'

David shrugs. 'I just-- Want to feel like I did something.'

'You are doing something,' Ptonomy says. 'You're getting better. Yes, some parts of healing are about digging into your pain. But look at your therapy goals. How many of those are about processing your trauma?'

'I mean-- Literally only one,' David thinks.

'And what's it for?' Ptonomy asks.

'To, uh-- Let it go,' David thinks.

'Therapy isn't about making you hurt,' Ptonomy says. 'It's not a way for you to punish yourself, to feed your shame. That shame is a parasite and all it wants to do is eat you alive, remember?'

'Vividly,' David thinks.

'I know you're scared about taking on Past David's trauma,' Ptonomy says. 'But you're not facing it alone. You have your system. You have all of us. We're going to do everything we can to help your system be safe and healthy and whole. And I know you want those things.'

'Yeah,' David sighs. He wants them so much, he just-- God, he's terrified.

'What's your worst-case scenario?' Ptonomy asks. 'We turn Past David into an identity. What's your fear?'

'That-- I turn into him,' David admits, but feels ashamed for it. 'That I can't take it and-- Everything falls apart and goes back to the way it was when I was him.'

'How likely does that feel to you?'

'With Farouk involved?' David thinks. 'More than I want it to be.'

'That's fair,' Ptonomy says. 'When you imagine that happening, where's everyone else? Do they try to help?'

'I don't know,' David admits. 'It just-- Happens.'

'So you're not in control,' Ptonomy says.

'No, the pain is in control,' David thinks. 'The trauma, the-- Farouk. Farouk's in control.'

'That's why you want to cross out your trauma? So you can feel in control?'

'Yes,' David thinks, strongly. He feels the urge to write more NOs but resists it.

'Let's try something,' Ptonomy says. 'I want you to imagine that happening, the trauma taking control. But don't let yourself be alone. Put someone there with you. How about Lenny?'

'Ready for duty,' Lenny says.

David closes his eyes and pictures it. It's not hard, all he has to do is let himself feel what Past David feels. All of that is agonizingly familiar. Nothing feels real, he's terrified and confused and hopelessly lost, and the monster has him in its grip and it's never, ever going to let him go. And most of all, he knows that he's broken, that he's garbage, that he doesn't deserve kindness or love or anything good, he could never ever deserve it because every single breath fills his chest with shame.

A few tears leak from his eyes. Damn it, he thought he was actually going to get through this session without crying. He's such an idiot.

'Lenny,' Ptonomy says, gently. 'Lenny's with you.'

'I'm here,' Lenny says. 'We've been through worse shit together, okay? I'm not gonna leave you.'

David takes a shaky breath. Lenny should go, she should run. She can't save him, no one can. This is all his life ever was, and all it's ever going to be, and it's exactly what he deserves.

'Bullshit,' Lenny says, angry. 'You're my friend and I love you, okay? I'm not leaving. We're gonna get through this together because that's what we do.'

David wants to refuse her. He wants to let the pain take every last thing away from him. But-- He doesn't want that. He doesn't. NO. 'Lenny,' he thinks, pained.

'I'm right here,' Lenny says, and he can feel her. Not from the outside, but-- In his heart. A stubborn, angry spark of Lenny, lodged too deep for even Farouk to pull out. He puts his hand over his heart and feels her there, focuses on her, makes her stronger.

And the bleak pain-- Edges back. He's not alone. He refuses to let the pain win.

'NO,' he thinks, the spark blazing into a fire. 'NO NO NO NO NO.'

He opens his eyes. He grabs a tissue, wipes away his tears, then does it again. He's shaky, breathing fast but-- He's okay. He's okay.

He looks over to see Lenny smiling.

'How did that feel?' Ptonomy asks.

David takes another shaky breath. 'Awful, but-- Kind of amazing.'

'That's what love means for you,' Ptonomy says. 'Love is your strength. It's what keeps you fighting. It's what helps you say NO. And no matter where you are, no matter what happens, that love never leaves you. Your mom's love is part of who you are. The love of your system stayed with you even when you forgot them. And the love you feel for us, from us-- That's yours too. No amount of pain or shame can take it away.'

'That's--' David starts, but he can't finish. It's so much. It's so much he wants to believe, and can't believe and almost believes and does believe. It makes his heart hurt, but in the best way.

'I know you're afraid of being alone,' Ptonomy continues. 'But you've never been alone. Alone was a lie and a trick. You've always had your system, your family, your friends. So when the pain feels overwhelming, all you have to do is remember us. And you'll be okay.'

David swallows, sniffs. He wipes his eyes again. He puts his hand back over his heart, and looks at Lenny, and breaks into a teary smile. And then he really starts crying.

"Sorry," he says, as he grabs more tissues.

"Hey, that's what they're for," Lenny says, casually. "Snot em up."

David laughs through a sob, then blows his nose.

He cries himself out fairly quickly. He slumps, wrung out but-- Deeply relieved. He feels like's been holding his breath all day, and finally let it out.

"Guess I needed that," he admits.

'Feeling better?' Ptonomy asks, switching them back to the mainframe.

'Yeah,' David thinks. And now what he needs is to lie down. He misses the sofa they had before. He had some really nice naps on that sofa.

'Hey, the new sofa needs breaking in,' Lenny points out. 'Wanna head back down?'

David hesitates. 'I don't want to-- The lab's pretty full.'

'Hey, that lab is ours, same as it was before,' Lenny says, firmly. 'We're taking that ground back, remember?'

'I know, but--' David hesitates again. It's just-- Clark's there, and Melanie and Past David and--

'Cruise director, remember?' Lenny says. 'I'll keep it manageable. You like manageable, right?'

'I do,' David admits. 'Thanks, Lenny.' For everything.

They gather their things and head back down. And as they wait for the elevator, David slips his hand back over his heart, and feels Lenny's love there again.

Chapter 171: Day 14: Eleven masks at once seems excessive. (Past David)

Chapter Text

The other David leaves, and David is alone with the monster again.

There's so many masks now, and all at once. Usually there was just-- One or two at a time. Three or four, he supposes, if he counts Dvd and Divad. Four already seems like a lot, but now there's-- Ten? Eleven including Ptonomy.

Eleven masks at once seems-- Excessive.

Dvd walks by and takes the seat the other David left. He looks at David intensely, but doesn't say anything. But Dvd was never really-- Much of a talker.

"I talk," Dvd says, offended. "I just wait til I've got something to say."

"I've got plenty to say," Kerry says, drawing David's attention. "Tell Amy I need my exercise stuff back."

David hesitates, but-- It seems like when he listens to Kerry, so does everyone else? Or at least they look where he's looking. "Uh, Amy?"

"Yes?" Amy says, expectant.

The Amy mask. Was she a mask before? Was she always a mask? Maybe there were five masks all along. Or maybe the whole world was always the monster from the very beginning.

"Kerry wants her exercise stuff?" David says, unsure what that means.

"Oh!" Cary says. "Divad used to work with printouts. Could you please ask Amy for printouts?"

"Printouts?" David echoes, unsure about that, too.

"And we need to tell them about the dreams," Cary continues. He frowns. "But it might be-- Difficult to ask David to relay them."

"They were his dreams," Kerry says, annoyed. "Why aren't you relaying?" she asks David. "You're supposed to relay."

"I think we're going too fast for him," Cary says. "I'm sorry, David, we'll try to keep things simple. Just ask Amy for the printouts. Oh, but I don't have a pen. Not being able to make astral constructs is rather limiting." He pauses, expectant, then gives a small huff. "Just ask for the printouts."

"Cary wants printouts?" David relays, thoroughly bewildered.

"I've already sent the request to Doctor Orwell," Amy tells Cary.

"Oh, wonderful," Cary says, relieved. "Tell Amy thank you," he tells David.

"Um. Thank you," David tells Amy. "From-- That was from Cary."

Eleven masks talking to each other, making him talk to them. All this relaying-- What's the point? They're all the monster, it doesn't need him to talk to itself.

"Is he-- Coming back soon?" David asks. "The other David?" He doesn't think he can get through all this without him. Without feeling how he feels. Without him, David just feels like himself, and there's nothing good about that.

He misses Amahl. He misses his treatments. Amahl's medication always helped him. Maybe-- Maybe Melanie-- Or is she a mask? She's probably a mask. Why would the whole world be the monster except Melanie?

'I need my medication,' he thinks at Melanie, desperately. But she doesn't seem to hear him. Why doesn't she hear him? Does that mean she is a mask? No, the monster always heard his thoughts. Wait then-- Does that means-- She isn't a mask? But she's a mutant, a mind reader. But the other David said they're a mutant after all, and the crown-- She's not wearing a crown. Maybe she's just ignoring him? Maybe she hates him. She probably just hates him. Of course she hates him.

"David," Syd says.

David startles. "Um. Uh. Yes?" Syd. Is Syd a mask? But she said-- She's not his Syd. She's not Melanie's daughter. But it's her, it's Syd.

"Is there something you'd like to have here in the lab?" Syd asks. "Something that would help you feel safe and comfortable?"

Amahl, David thinks, but doesn't say.

"You were in Farouk's lab for months, right?" Syd continues. "I know you need to feel safe. Was there-- Something you liked to eat, or-- Something you held or looked at?"

"No," David says, softly. He ate what he was given. Though at the beginning, Amahl still-- He let David have things-- à la David--

There was-- Lenny's care package. Amahl probably wouldn't like him eating all that candy, but-- "Lenny, um-- Gave me Twizzlers?"

Except Lenny's a mask, too. Isn't she?

"Oh hey, all your stuff," Lenny says. "You want that back, right?"

David nods.

"Someone's gonna bring that up soon," Lenny tells him. "Special delivery." She winks at him. "Oh hey, Ames, speaking of boxes--"

"Oh!" Amy says, and smiles, excited. "David, we have all your things from college, remember? Your clothes and books. Would you like to see them?"

David gives her an uncertain look. Wasn't that a trick? Is this a trick?

"Once we get everything set up here, we can go through them together, okay?" Amy says.

David just nods. If she is the monster, he doesn't want to upset her. Whatever the monster wants to do, it's fine. It's not like any of this is up to him. It's not like any of this is real, even if the other David said it was. Maybe he was tricked, too. That’s what the monster does to David, any David.

"Fascinating as all this is," Clark says, annoyed, "the real world actually does need my attention."

"Clark," Syd says, a little sternly.

"Stay, please," Amy says.

Clark gives an impatient huff. "I came here to talk to David and Cary. Actual David."

"You did?" Cary says, surprised.

"You came here to spend time with mutants," Syd counters. "To make yourself part of the group. You can't do that if you keep leaving."

Clark glares at her for that, but for whatever reason, it seems to mean something to him. He sighs but stays put.

"If you'd like to discuss the future of humankind, that's a topic of great interest to me," Oliver says, breaking what David thought was some kind of meditative state.

Clark gives Oliver a skeptical look. "You're a little out of date."

"Really?" Oliver says, with friendly challenge. "I wasn't aware that basic humanity was a recent concept."

Kerry laughs. “Good one.”

"Then talk to me," Melanie says, a gleam in her eyes. "I'm very up to date."

Clark gives a long suffering sigh. "Why did I help resurrect you two?"

"I don't think we were ever actually dead," Oliver points out. "Perhaps a little frostbite?"

Lenny suddenly stands up. "Gotta go help David. You got this one?"

"Go," Amy says. "We'll be fine."

Lenny pauses, giving David a long look, then walks out of the lab.

Oh. She meant the other David.

"What's, um-- What are they doing?" David asks, once she's gone. He doesn't like the other David being out of sight. What if the monster is hurting him?

"They're talking," Amy says. "Melanie, you had sessions with David, right?"

"Of course," Melanie says. "Every day."

"Perhaps you should have a session now," Oliver suggests. "Since you're both here."

That gets everyone's attention.

"That's a great idea," Amy says. "David, what do you think? Would that help you feel better? Talking to Melanie about how you feel?"

"Um. Maybe?" David says. His sessions with Melanie were usually pretty upsetting. It was Amahl who helped him feel better. But he doesn't want to upset the monster. "Okay."

"Perhaps if we went somewhere private," Melanie says.

"I'm afraid that's not an option at the moment," Oliver says. "But this is a safe environment."

"Safe?" Melanie says, disbelieving.

"David needs your help," Syd tells Melanie. "You could at least ask him how he's feeling."

Melanie gives her another doubtful look, but turns to David. "David, sweetie. How are you feeling?"

David gives a nervous swallow. He doesn't know what to say. What's the right thing to say? What if he gets it wrong and then-- He always gets things wrong. And then the monster will stop being nice and start hurting him again. And he'll deserve it but--

His eyes are suddenly damp, and his chin trembles. He wishes the other David would come back. He wishes they could just--

"David," Melanie says, worried. She turns and reaches for him, then-- Stops, confused. Then she shakes off whatever stopped her, and pulls him into her arms and holds him.

David goes still. Now he's confused. Melanie never hugs him. Only Amahl hugs him, and sometimes Syd. Melanie said it would be wrong for her to hug him. Why is she hugging him? Is it because she's not really Melanie?

Melanie pulls back and looks at him. "I can't hear your thoughts right now. My powers-- They're not working. So I need you to talk to me, okay?"

David stares at her. "Are you-- Melanie?" he asks, voice small.

Melanie gives him a pitying look. "I'm Melanie, David. I promise I'm really Melanie. I've known you ever since Amahl found you in the hospital. We spent every day together for months. You're like-- A son to me." And then she falters again, and shakes off her confusion again.

David doesn't understand. "No, you're-- You don't feel that way about me. You don't."

"Of course I do," Melanie says. "I came here to save you, to bring you home."

"It wasn't real," David says, tears spilling out now. Nothing's real. "The lab wasn't real, it was just a trick."

"No, David, this is the trick," Melanie says. "This whole ridiculous story. Did they tell it to you? That-- This is supposed to be our real life? I'm supposed to be married to him!" She points at Oliver. "I've never heard anything so absurd."

Oliver's eyebrows rise high. So do Syd's.

David turns away, wounded but unable to explain why.

"David," Melanie says, gentler, apologetic.

"Stop lying to me," David says, through his tears.

"David," Syd says, intervening. "What was your relationship with Melanie like, when you were with Amahl?"

"You know," David protests, but-- She doesn't. Not if she's the wrong Syd.

"Tell me again," Syd says, with brief, small smile.

David rubs at his eyes, wipes at his face with his sleeve. "I'm her patient. Just that." He takes a shaky breath and turns to Melanie. "You told me. You said-- You had to keep a professional distance."

"That's true, but-- Only at the beginning," Melanie protests. "And then-- As you grew closer to Amahl and Syd-- Of course we grew closer, too."

"No," David insists. Even if it was just a dream, he knows what he remembers.

Melanie goes still. "You don't remember-- Me hugging you? Holding you, when you cried after our sessions?"

"Amahl held me," David tells her. Why is she trying to take that away? Only the monster would do something so cruel. She must be a mask. "Leave me alone."

"David," Melanie says, and she seems hurt and confused but she couldn't be, not for real. She's not real.

"Leave me alone!" David yells, and huddles away from her.

Amy stands up and holds out her hand. "Melanie?"

Melanie takes takes Amy's hand and lets herself be led away. They speak quietly together, and then Amy comes back.

"I think it's time we got the rest of this room ready," Amy tells them. She looks around the sitting area. "Dvd, can you stay with David?"

"Got it," Dvd says.

Divad, Oliver, Clark, and Syd all leave the sofa, and then after a pause, so do Cary and Kerry. Once they're gone, David calms a little, but still feels miserable. He looks over the back of the sofa and watches things being brought in: cots, chairs, a big round table, stacks of boxes.

"Hey, got any blankets yet?" Dvd calls.

"Working on it," Divad calls back.

Dvd shifts impatiently until Divad brings over a blanket. Dvd takes it, shakes it out, and then hands it to David.

"You had a shock," Dvd tells him. "Gotta stay warm."

David doesn't know what to say to that. But at least this is familiar, Dvd taking care of him and being kinda gruff about it. David pulls the blanket around himself. It does help a little.

"Thanks," he murmurs.

They sit quietly together as the room bustles with movement and noise. The warmth of the blanket makes him a little drowsy. And somehow, despite everything-- Having Dvd watching over him alone-- Feels safe.

"Wanna lie down?" Dvd asks. "It's okay. I won't let anyone hurt you."

David shifts on the sofa and lies down, and tugs the blanket over his legs. He tucks one arm under his head to keep the spikes of the crown from pressing in.

But he's not quite ready to close his eyes. He looks at Dvd, needing-- Something.

Dvd looks out past David, thoughtful. Then he gets up and-- Sits on the edge of the coffee table, his knees just inches from David's hand.

"I missed you," Dvd says, softly but with so much feeling. "David."

David's heart clenches. He looks at Dvd and feels so much need and-- So much fear. Dvd was the mask that-- That he loved. That he thought loved him. But he had so many awful nightmares, and Melanie said--

He doesn't want to think about Melanie.

"Is it okay if-- I touch you?" Dvd asks. "Just your arm."

David stares at him for a long moment, then nods. Dvd folds back one corner of the blanket, exposing David's elbow. And Dvd rests his hand on it.

They both take sharp breaths in, even though-- It's just touch, through the fabric of David's sleeve. No shared feelings except-- What they feel themselves.

Whatever that is. Could the monster love him? Syd and Amahl both thought-- Maybe it did. That the monster-- Protected him. Cared for him. That it only hurt him-- Because he needed to be hurt.

But David doesn't know what to think about anything.

"I'm sorry," Dvd says, heartfelt. "I just--" But then he runs out of words. There's just-- Feeling in his eyes, so much and so familiar.

"Dvd, we were hoping David could-- Oh," Amy says. She leans over the sofa. "I think a nap's a good idea."

Kerry appears next to Amy. "You're gonna nap? C'mon, we need you to relay."

"Kerry," Cary chides.

"No, this sucks," Kerry says. "Oliver finally made it so he can hear us and he's useless."

"Kerry!" Cary chides, a little angry this time.

"Sorry," Kerry says. "Sorry, David. But can you just-- Tell Amy we need two beds, not one? We can't share without a body. Tell her two, okay?"

"David?" Amy says. “Are you listening to the Karies?"

David nods. "Kerry says-- Two beds."

"Thank you, David," Cary says, then guides Kerry away. "Perhaps Oliver can figure out how to make us some pens."

"Cary wants pens," David relays, and then decides he is very much done relaying.

"Just rest, okay?" Amy says. She walks away, and then a moment later, the lights over the sitting area go out. There's still light in the rest of the room, and from the window, but-- David feels a little calmer. Amy comes back with a pillow, and he lowers his arm so she she can slip it under his head. Then she's gone again.

David looks at Dvd, silhouetted by the window. And David feels-- Such an intense longing for him. For the way-- Dvd held him, loved him. He can't feel Dvd loving him, even though he's right there, even though David could just reach out and--

But he doesn't. None of that was real. And if it was real-- He still doesn't know which real it was.

He watches Dvd even as his eyes fall shut. And when he's almost all the way asleep, he reaches out, just a little.

Chapter 172: Day 14: Allies protect each other. (Syd)

Chapter Text

"Eleven cots," Syd says, once they're all lined up in a row, snugly fitting together along the wall. Beds for herself, Kerry, Cary, Oliver, Clark, Melanie, and all the Davids plus one for their system’s body. "This really is starting to feel like Summerland. Any more and we'll need bunk beds."

"Make it ten," Clark mutters.

Syd bites back a reply. She checks on the rest of the lab. They don't have any equipment yet, but Oliver and Divad are reconstructing the furniture layout for Cary's work area. And Amy and Melanie are setting up the chairs around the dining table.

Well, Amy is. Melanie's just leaning on the back of a chair, looking upset.

"Melanie?" Amy says, concerned.

Melanie gives Amy a scornful look.

Amy flinches but doesn't back down. "Melanie, I know what you remember is--"

"Don't," Melanie says, sharply. Then she looks away. "Don't tell me what I remember."

Syd decides to intervene. Amy wants to help, but Melanie's hardly ready to let her. "Melanie?" she says, walking over. "Are you okay?"

Melanie gives Syd such a vulnerable look. All this, losing the life she thought she had, being surrounded by confusing strangers, and now Past David's rejection-- It must be breaking her heart.

Syd glances over at the sitting area. Dvd's still sitting on the coffee table, watching over Past David as he sleeps. She turns back and sees Melanie looking at the sitting area. Melanie's hands grab restlessly at the chair back.

"I know we just got here, but-- How about we take a walk?" Syd offers. "Then-- We can talk without waking David."

Melanie hesitates, then straightens. "Yes. That's-- Yes."

Amy steps over to Syd. "Maybe-- This is a good time for that scan?"

"Scan?" Melanie asks, brow furrowing.

"I'll tell you on the way," Syd tells Melanie, and starts guiding her towards the door. Melanie resists, then goes along.

As they step out, Clark catches up to them. "I'll join you."

Syd decides not to argue with that either. "Okay."

"So what's this scan?" Melanie asks, suspicious.

"Well," Syd starts. "You know how-- Farouk ripped out David's memories, the older David? We need to find out if-- You have brain damage like him, or if the memories are still there."

"This 'real life' I'm supposed to just remember?" Melanie asks, skeptically.

"Exactly," Syd says. "You want to know, right? If you'll be able to."

"I already remember my life," Melanie mutters, but Syd knows she's lying. There's so many things Farouk never bothered to make memories for.

They walk a little further. Melanie frowns, visibly thoughtful.

"Fine," she says. "Let's get it over with."

"You're making the right choice," Syd assures her.

"Choice," Melanie scoffs. "If I could use my powers--" She shakes her head. "I'm going along with this for David's sake." She pauses again. "He's the one who needs his brain scanned."

"Because he doesn't remember what you remember?" Syd asks.

"There's obviously something wrong with him," Melanie insists. She gives Syd a suspicious look. "Maybe the Divisions brainwashed him, like they did you."

Syd bites back another reply. She doubts anything she says would help.

They reach the lab, and Syd introduces Melanie to Doctor Orwell. Syd and Clark are ushered out of the way to wait.

Clark fidgets beside her.

“It’s harder than it looks, right?” Syd says to him. “Staying.”

She turns and meets his eyes. He sighs and looks away.

"I'm not here to be part of this-- Communal therapy," Clark says, tersely.

"Pretty sure you are," Syd says. "If you want we can go ask Minnie?"

Clark's frown deepens. He glances at the door.

"You can leave if you want," Syd says, remembering what Clark said to her when their positions were reversed.

Clark obviously remembers it, too. "No, I can't."

Syd gives a hum of agreement. They're both silent for a long minute, and then: "You know we'll protect you, right? And your family."

Clark scoffs.

"You've done a lot for us," Syd says. "Even if it wasn't your choice."

"I don't need your protection," Clark says.

"Don't you?" Syd challenges, mildly.

Clark crosses his arms. Thinks. "I'm loyal to the Divisions."

"Of course," Syd says, understanding. The Divisions might be watching Clark even closer than they're watching David, now. "I know you-- Keep telling yourself we're enemies. But I don't think that's true anymore. Maybe we're not exactly friends, but--" She gives him a steady look. "What was it you said to Melanie? You facilitated a strategic alliance. Allies protect each other."

A fraction of the tension leaves Clark's shoulders. "They do."

Syd leaves it at that.

Clark pulls out his phone and stares at it. It's the text he got from Daniel. 'I trust you.' Clark hasn't sent a reply.

Syd met Daniel, briefly, a few times, at meetings with the Division higher-ups. He was always polite but reserved, focused on the work the same way Clark is, but-- A little softer, more open. Syd got the sense that he wanted to spent more time with them, but Clark always had a reason why Daniel couldn't stay. At the time, Syd chalked it up to their general hostility to mutants, but--

Watching Clark's session with Minnie, listening to Clark's call to Daniel afterwards--

Maybe Daniel would have changed his mind about mutants sooner if he'd had the chance to get to know them as people instead of just-- Threats or Division assets. But Clark kept them apart. It reminds her of herself, of her desert island with a single palm tree.

Clark and Daniel's relationship is certainly-- A lot healthier than her relationship with David. Obviously it's not perfect, but-- She feels-- Jealous of what they have. A life together, a family, all that trust.

She never wanted kids. She never even though it was possible for her, physically or emotionally. She doesn't want them now, but-- She's jealous anyway.

And she thinks of David being gone for a year, and how when she got him back all she did was push him away. And she's barely had any time with him since breakfast and sometimes it feels like she barely matters to him anymore, that all that matters is his precious system, how dare he--

Her whole body is tensed. She realizes-- It's the warning, her body's warning her.

She catches herself, her anger. The urge to punish.

She left her notebook back in the lab, but she knows her mantra by heart now. Love makes her strong, pain makes her weak. Trust her friends, not her enemies. Be vulnerable and acknowledge her feelings. If she lets go of her pain, love will help her heal.

What are her feelings? What does she feel, under the anger?

She thinks of David and his eternally rough mornings. It's been a rough morning for her, too. A rough day. She thinks of hitting her limit yesterday and turning on David, hurting him, and regretting it.

She doesn't want to hurt him. She doesn't want to be angry at him, to think cruel thoughts about him that she knows he'll hear. He's probably back in the lab by now, finished with his session with Ptonomy. She hopes he's too busy with his system to listen to her.

But she doesn't want him to be. She wants him back. She wants his attention, his focus, his eyes locked on her, open and needing.

She feels alone, neglected. That's how she's always felt, except when he adored her, poured all that love into her. When he left, when-- When he was taken, it felt like-- It was his fault, all that pain. Because he made it stop for a while, and without him it all came right back.

But it wasn't David that made her feel that way, it was the isolation of her powers, it was her mother's abuse. It was the world that taught her what normal is, and that-- She isn't. That she never will be. That she's alone.

She doesn't want to be alone.

She takes a slow breath in, out. What was it Divad said? Whatever her pain wants, do the opposite. So if she doesn't want to feel alone, instead of pulling away, she needs to-- Reach out? To the person she's with. To Clark?

She can do that.

"You must miss him," she says, quietly. "Daniel."

"We talk," Clark says.

"But you haven't seen him," Syd says. "You haven't-- Had time to just-- Be with him. And your son. I don't think-- You ever told me his name."

There's a pause, and then. "Buster."

Syd quirks a smile. "Buster?"

"He came with the name," Clark defends, mildly.

"How old was he?" Syd asks. "When you adopted him?"

"Seven," Clark says. "You'd think seven was young, but-- It's not."

Syd thinks about what it must have been like for Buster. Getting a new home, new parents ready to love him, after a lifetime of not having the love he needed. Clark told David that-- They asked for a kid no one else wanted. Who'd been hurt and didn't know how to trust. Seven does seem young, but-- Syd knows what seven feels like when the world isn't safe.

"Was it hard?" she asks. "Getting him-- Used to you?"

"Yes," Clark says, simply.

Syd considers that. "It must have taken-- A lot of patience. Care."

Clark gives an agreeing hum.

"How is he now?" Syd asks.

"Honestly?" Clark says. "He's been acting up in school. He's moody. I think he's-- Angry that I've been away so long. That Daniel's been distracted by-- All this."

"He misses you," Syd realizes.

"Yes," Clark sighs. "I'll make it up to him. If we survive."

"Maybe you shouldn't wait," Syd says, surprising herself. "Ptonomy's family's here. Maybe yours should come."

"That's different," Clark says.

"Why?" Syd asks.

"I don't have detachment syndrome," Clark says, dryly.

"No, but-- You're detached," Syd counters. "And it hurts you. Being alone. So-- You shouldn't be."

"I'm not bringing my son into a war zone," Clark says, firmly.

Syd remembers how much she needed her mom even when her mom was right next to her. How every time her mom pulled away from her, it hurt so much. All those times she swapped with her mom-- She was taking what her mom never gave her. Touch, physical closeness. But it never lasted, it was never enough. And after the swaps ended, she always felt worse. Like when David left. When he was taken.

"He needs you," she insists. "If you can't bring him here, then-- You should leave. We took Melanie out for lunch, you can-- Go have dinner with your family."

Clark gives her a steady look. Turns away. "You need me here."

"Oh please," Syd scoffs. "I think we can survive without you for an hour or two."

"Unlikely," Clark says. But he flicks open his phone again, and looks at Daniel's text. He pauses, and then types, Dinner with Buster? and hits Send.

A pause, and then Daniel's reply. Tonight?

Yes, Clark types.

Yes, Daniel replies. He misses you so much.

I miss him, too, Clark types. He swallows. I love you.

I love you, Daniel replies.

Clark lets out a long sigh. Closes his phone. He looks-- Relieved. Worried but-- Glad.

Syd allows herself a small, private smile. And she realizes-- She feels better. Less tense. She didn't hit a wall. She recognized her feelings, her body's signals. She helped herself feel better. She still misses David, feels jealous of his system, but-- She doesn't feel like she has to be angry with him, or blame him for her own pain.

It's-- Freeing. Not letting her anger control her, doing the opposite of what her pain demands. Divad was right, it really does help.

"Okay, Melanie, we're all done," Doctor Orwell says. The techs help Melanie out of the scanner and give her a cup of water. They take her to the back room to change out of the hospital gown.

Clark straightens up, all business. He goes over to Doctor Orwell. "Results?"

"No damage," Doctor Orwell says, relieved. "Her brain basically matches the scans we did before we froze her."

"How long until she remembers?" Clark presses.

"Hard to say," Doctor Orwell admits. "Oliver's detachment syndrome was highly advanced. Lenny's a better point of comparison, Her real memories started to come back very soon after she was put into her new body, but they were hazy at first, confusing. And she had no guidance, no help dealing with that transition."

"So a day, two days?" Clark asks.

"Probably not even that long," Doctor Orwell says. "With the help you've already given her, the brief period of separation-- Her memories should start returning at any moment. Memory prompts will help."

"We know what to do," Syd says, relieved and encouraged. They do know what to do. They've helped Oliver and Lenny with their memories, and even David's remembered a little of his old life. They're going to get Melanie back.

Syd suddenly realizes she's smiling. She's happy.

Melanie returns, tired and wary. But she sees Syd's smile and--

Syd tugs up her gloves and walks up to Melanie. "We can't touch skin, but--" And then she carefully hugs Melanie.

Melanie holds her, then holds her tighter, needing. Syd feels needles dancing under her skin, but it's okay. She's okay.

Syd pulls back, lets go. "Good news," she says. "There's no brain damage. And Doctor Orwell says you'll start to remember soon."

"Oh," Melanie says, and hardly seems thrilled. "I see."

"You won't lose the memories you have now," Doctor Orwell tells her. "Your body's memories will feel strange at first, but as you heal, they'll grow stronger and clearer."

"I won't forget?" Melanie asks, needing again.

"No," Doctor Orwell assures her. "Based on our understanding of these situations, you'll have two parallel sets of memories. A bit confusing, but-- Nothing will be lost."

Melanie looks meaningfully at Syd. She reaches out again, and Syd takes her hand.

"I've forgotten so much about our life," Melanie says, grieving. "I don't want to lose the rest."

It's not our life, Syd wants to say, but she bites it back. It's real to Melanie. In some ways, it will always be real to Melanie. Just like-- How Lenny and David will always remember being best friends before Clockworks. Syd feels a pang of longing, wishing she and Melanie shared memories, that she could remember Melanie being her mother, loving her and hugging her. Syd Farouk was safe to touch. She grew up feeling all that love.

It wasn't real. But Melanie wants to give Syd that love now. It's so tempting to let her, but-- Syd doesn't think she should. It would be taking advantage, like-- What David did to her, after he made her forget.

"You won't lose anything," Syd promises. "And I'll be right here. As your friend. Okay?"

Melanie's disappointed, but-- Seems slightly reassured. "Okay." She gives a sad smile.

Syd hesitates, but then-- Hugs Melanie again. Melanie holds her tight, and sniffs. When they separate, Melanie wipes at her eyes, and looks at Syd with such pained love and grief--

"You're not dealing with any of this alone," Syd tells her. "It'll be okay."

Melanie doesn't look like she believes that, but-- That's okay. Syd's ready to believe it for her.

Chapter 173: Day 14: I just want him back. (Dvd)

Chapter Text

There's always a moment, just as David falls asleep, when he feels a tiny surge of terror. It's nothing compared to everything else David feels when he's awake, all the fear and anxiety and shame and--

But Dvd always waits for that moment. He waits for it and then-- Soothes it. All it takes is a steady touch, or feelings of love. And then David's breathing can even out and he can rest. Eventually the nightmares will come, they always come, but just for a little while, with Dvd watching over him, David is safe. The monster can't touch him.

Dvd sits on the coffee table, one hand on Past David's arm, and sends feelings of love to David. David's tiny terror passes, his breathing evens out, and then-- Both of them are asleep. And Dvd's heart aches so much that he's afraid it'll wake David up.

He just wants--

Divad pulls up the edge of David's blanket, and lightly touches his cheek. And Dvd feels Divad's heart aching, too.

'I just want him back,' Dvd thinks to Divad, and means everything by it.

Divad sighs, and Dvd can feel how much he wants that, too. But he stands up and gestures for Dvd to follow him. Dvd glances at Amy, relaxing on one loveseat, and Lenny in the other.

Dvd reminds himself that-- He's not doing this alone, keeping David safe. He has Divad, he has Lenny and Amy, he has Ptonomy and Oliver. He has help. And together they're gonna stop the shit beetle and everyone's gonna be okay.

He wants to believe all that so much.

Their notebooks are waiting for them at the table. Oliver and Ptonomy wait while Dvd and Divad each do a round of their foundation work, personal and system. He pauses on the system wish list. The one thing they all want most. To be safe.

They haven't started Past David on foundation work yet, but Dvd knows that's what he wants most, too.

'We're ready,' Divad thinks, knowing Oliver is listening, and then-- The relay is back, and so is the mainframe link. Dvd and Divad put their mental shields back up so they won't disturb David, though they still share with each other. And then-- It's time to get to work.

'Let's start with a check-in,' Ptonomy says. 'How are you feeling?'

'Anxious, worried,' Divad starts. 'Less worried than I was before David's session, but--' He looks over at the sitting area, and Dvd feels Divad's longing, his guilt, his hope. 'I have so much to make up for.'

'Dvd?' Ptonomy says. 'How about you?'

'I feel-- Love,' Dvd thinks. 'For David. Longing. Um. Heartache. Anger at the shit beetle for using me to hurt him. And worry."

'What's your biggest worry?' Ptonomy asks.

'That we can't fix this,' Dvd admits. 'We couldn't fix David before, we-- I tried so hard.'

He feels a surge of anger at Divad for breaking David in college, but resists it. Even if Divad tries to sabotage David again, they're not alone. People are paying attention. Oliver would notice. Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy and hell, even Syd would notice. Divad wouldn't be able to get away with it.

And-- They know why Divad was so angry all the time. They were sharing wrong, and-- They were spending all their time being David instead of themselves. All that was hurting their system. They don't have to hurt their system anymore.

Divad gives Dvd a sad smile. 'We don't,' he thinks. 'But-- I'm glad if I slip-- We have a lot of people who care enough to stop me.'

'You do,' Ptonomy agrees. 'You're both doing really well. You're working so hard to get better, and you should be very proud of that.'

'It's very impressive,' Oliver agrees.

Divad quirks a smile. 'The way our system is now-- It's so much better than how we used to work.'

'It is,' Ptonomy agrees. 'And that's why you're both worried, right? Because Past David isn't part of the new way you work, not yet. And whichever body he's in, it's going to take work to help him out of that old system and into your new one.'

'A lot of work,' Divad says. 'God, I wish-- There's so much I want to take back. I said so many awful things, I-- I tortured him! I broke him! I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought--' He cuts off. 'I tried apologizing to David before, but he can't remember what happened. And now-- Past David doesn't even think I'm real.' He sighs, frustrated. 'How do we fix this?'

'You mean, how do we get Past David to accept that we're not the monster?' Ptonomy asks.

'Yes,' Divad thinks, and gives Ptonomy a pleading look.

'I wish we had an easy answer,' Ptonomy says. 'And before either of you suggests it, yes, wiping Past David's dream memories would make him forget everything Farouk convinced him to believe. But I don't think it's a good idea.'

'He'd be better,' Dvd thinks.

'And when he finds out that's what you did?' Ptonomy asks. 'That you took away a year of his life?'

'He doesn't have to find out,' Dvd thinks.

'That year changed all of us,' Ptonomy says. 'Even if he doesn't remember, he's a telepath. He'll hear something and he'll realize the truth. He'll feel deeply betrayed. And worse, that's how Farouk treated your system for decades. He erased whatever memories he didn't want you to have, again and again.'

Dvd shifts in his seat, looks away, huffs. He doesn't want to be anything like the shit beetle. But it kills him that Farouk did all this right under their nose. It kills him every time Past David thinks they're the monster.

'I know it hurts,' Ptonomy soothes.

Dvd's eyes sting with tears, but he fights them. 'It's like being skinned alive,' he thinks, angrily.

'Then how do we help him?' Divad asks, desperately.

'The same way you helped David accept you,' Ptonomy says. 'Tell me how you did that.'

'Um, we stopped hiding,' Divad thinks, concentrating. 'We-- Stayed with him. Opened up, dropped our shields. Shared our thoughts, our feelings.'

'That's right,' Ptonomy says. 'You let him get to know you again. And you have a big advantage with Past David, because he does remember you. Farouk didn't make him forget, he just confused him. He tangled up both of you with the monster. So all we have to do is untangle.'

'How?' Dvd presses.

'We've already started,' Ptonomy says. 'Past David's pretty confused right now. But at lot of his confusion is because even though he thinks we're the monster, we're not acting like the monster. We're giving him affection and support, treating him with trust, honesty, and respect.'

'We shouldn't have lied to him yesterday,' Divad sighs.

'We held things back because we were trying to keep him calm,' Ptonomy says. 'That was for David's sake, and yours. If we hadn't calmed Past David, I don't think your system would have made that breakthrough yesterday. And that was a big one, right?'

'Really big,' Dvd agrees. Being able to share again, and David remembering them sharing, feeling happy when they're all together--

'There are times when there are no easy answers,' Oliver says. 'When every choice is a compromise. And yet we must choose.'

'That's why forgiveness is so important,' Ptonomy says. 'Instead of staying in our anger, punishing ourselves and each other-- We can put our energy into learning and trying again, into making our situation better. So let's focus on what will make our situation better.'

He gives them an expectant look.

'Okay,' Divad thinks, concentrating again. 'If-- Past David is confused because we're not behaving like the monster, then-- The best way to prove we're not the monster is to keep doing that. Right?'

'Right,' Ptonomy says, pleased. 'Look at this as an opportunity. Farouk was able to convince Past David you were masks, in part, because you used to act like the monster. But you've both put a lot of work into replacing Farouk's ideas with healthy ones. Every time you show Past David how much you've changed, you chip away at Farouk's lies. And even better, you're modeling for Past David. You're teaching him how to change himself so he can be healthy, too.'

'Yes,' Divad thinks, relieved. 'That makes sense. We can do that.'

'You can,' Ptonomy agrees. 'Dvd, how about you?'

'It makes sense,' Dvd agrees, but--

'But?' Ptonomy prompts.

'It's just--' Dvd struggles. 'In our new system, we're not-- Me and David--'

'Ah,' Ptonomy says. 'This is about your physical, romantic relationship?'

Dvd looks away. That was the least romantic way to put it. 'Yeah,' he thinks.

'I'm glad you brought that up,' Ptonomy says. 'The truth is, David's inability to remember more than-- Vague feelings about your relationship has-- Made it easy to put this off. But even without Past David, this is something your system needs to work on.'

'I love him,' Dvd thinks, with all his heart. 'I miss him so much. I miss holding him, I miss--' He cuts off. His heart hurts too much.

'We'll need to talk to David and Past David,' Ptonomy says. 'Both of them have feelings for you, but both of them have things that make those feelings difficult. For David, his feelings are mostly new, something he's still trying to understand. But Past David--' He pauses. 'Farouk seems to have-- Leveraged Past David's feelings in an attempt to-- Redirect them.'

'Fuck the shit beetle,' Dvd thinks, furious and almost in tears.

'He still wants David to love him,' Divad thinks, soberly.

'He does,' Ptonomy agrees. 'And that meant stealing your relationship with David for himself. Just as he exploited David's relationships with Syd and Melanie and Amy.'

'What do I do?' Dvd asks, desperate.

'I believe the answer is largely the same,' Oliver says. 'But romantic feelings-- Require special care. Farouk also stole my relationship with Melanie for his own use. Perhaps-- A double date?'

'A what?' Divad asks, eyebrows high.

'Double and a half,' Oliver offers. 'Presumably you wish to court both Davids?'

Dvd is speechless. And tempted. 'That's nuts,' he thinks. 'Past David's a wreck.'

'And yet Past David and David can and will share their feelings with each other,' Oliver points out. 'If we wish to reclaim that aspect of your system, then-- New, positive memories are needed. Just as they were for returning to the lab, and for sharing your system's body.'

'That actually makes sense,' Ptonomy admits. 'Maybe we should involve Syd?'

'Absolutely not,' Dvd protests.

'Farouk appears to have-- Had sex with David as Syd,' Oliver points out. 'Even if their relationship was more clinical than romantic--'

'It might be overwhelming,' Ptonomy says.

'And yet start as you mean to go on,' Oliver counters. 'David and Past David will inevitably be in relationships with both Dvd and Syd, whether separately or together.'

'What am I, chopped liver?' Divad thinks, grumpily.

'No,' Dvd thinks, firmly. 'No Syd, no Divad.' He turns to Divad. 'Sorry, but-- You didn't have a romantic relationship with David before.' He turns back to Oliver. 'And Syd Barrett is not Syd Farouk.'

'Valid points,' Oliver concedes. 'Very well. We'll keep things-- Relatively simple. Divad can chaperone, make sure the Davids don't get too close.'

'Shouldn't he be chaperoning me?' Dvd asks.

'Do you consider yourself a danger?' Oliver challenges. 'Past David and David nearly merged once already. If they share this experience together, it would be very easy for all that hand-holding to become something more.'

'Got it,' Divad thinks, determined.

'This is weird,' Dvd thinks.

'We have to retake as much ground as possible before we put your system back together,' Ptonomy says. 'Your relationship with David is valuable territory. We can't let Farouk keep it.'

'We can't,' Divad agrees. He turns to Dvd. 'Why do I keep having to convince you to do things you already want to do? Look, we fixed sharing, we can fix this. Don't you want him back?'

'Of course I want him back!' Dvd protests. 'I just--' He falters. 'I don't-- Know how to-- I didn't know I was hurting him before. What if I mess up again? What if I'm just bad for him?'

'Now you sound like Syd,' Divad thinks. 'Admit it, you're afraid.'

'Of course I'm afraid!' Dvd thinks, upset. 'I just accepted that I'm not a stress response. I barely know how to be a person. I don't know how to be with David that way without hurting him.'

'You need a healthy model,' Oliver acknowledges. 'That's why a double date is essential. When in doubt, copy me. Remember how we did the massages? And that worked out all right.'

'I guess,' Dvd admits.

'You've also been watching David and Syd, right?' Ptonomy says. 'You've seen how they're learning to love each other in healthy ways. And there's not that much difference between what they're doing and what you've already been doing with your system. You've learned to avoid a lot of unhealthy behaviors already. Healthy love is right there in your foundation.'

Dvd looks down at his foundation work. Affection and support, trust, honesty, and respect.

'You can do this,' Divad thinks, certain.

Dvd looks at Divad, at Ptonomy and Oliver, and thinks-- They're actually doing this? They're helping him get back together with David? He always thought--

They really want him to be happy?

He's not doing this alone. He really isn't.

'Okay,' Dvd decides, working up his courage. He can do this. He can get David back. Oh god, he's going to get David back. Oh god. He's suddenly smiling. He can't stop smiling. And Divad's smiling, too.

'Great,' Ptonomy says, pleased. 'How about the cafeteria?'

'Yes, that will do nicely,' Oliver says. 'A coffee date.' His eyes go distant and he gives a soft smile.

He's remembering. Because he can remember now. Falling in love with Melanie over coffee in China? And David will remember soon, or-- At least the memories will be there for him. But even without the memories, he can already feel how he used to feel. All he has to do is hold Past David's hand.

Dvd's heart aches even more, but in the best way.

'There's one more thing we need to discuss,' Ptonomy says, sobering. 'Right now Past David is in deep survival mode. But as he accepts that we're not the monster, as he comes out of that fear-- When David reached that point, he became very hard to deal with. Remember?'

'I don't think I could forget,' Divad thinks.

Dvd fervently agrees.

'When we go into fight or flight mode, we have to suppress a lot of our needs,' Ptonomy explains. 'We get out of that mode and all our needs come back at once, demanding attention. And if we don't have healthy ways of dealing with those needs, we're going to use unhealthy ways.'

'So you're saying--' Divad prompts.

'I'm saying this is the easy part,' Ptonomy says. 'Past David is being compliant because he doesn't feel safe enough to be anything else. But without that fear, he's going to be-- Pretty much at his worst. And you need to be ready for that.'

'Nothing we haven't seen before,' Divad thinks, wryly.

'No,' Ptonomy agrees. 'But how did you deal with it before?'

That makes Divad pause. 'Not well,' he admits.

'Exactly,' Ptonomy says. 'You know, a while back, Syd asked what David's old foundation was. What were the ideas he lived his life by? I think you can answer that.'

Dvd and Divad exchange glances.

'Nothing good,' Dvd thinks. 'Just-- A lot of shame and-- Pain. Sadness.'

'We didn't have any boundaries,' Divad thinks. 'And-- We thought cruelty was love.'

'Past David hasn't started unlearning those ideas yet,' Ptonomy says. 'And he won't really be able to until he's out of survival mode. Think about how David tried to re-enact his abuse with Benny and Syd.'

'Shit,' Dvd mutters. None of that was good.

'We don't want any part of your system falling back into that,' Ptonomy says. 'It will be up to you to say no to him, to refuse to engage in those toxic behaviors. And he won't be happy about that. He'll be angry and needy and desperate to pull you back into his refuge with him.'

'David wasn't like that with us,' Divad counters.

'David couldn't remember how he was with you,' Ptonomy says. 'But he was like that with Syd, after the desert.'

Everyone goes quiet.

'He wouldn't hurt us,' Dvd protests.

'He wouldn't know what he was doing was hurtful,' Ptonomy counters. 'You were both in his position very recently. You were both trying to pull David back into toxic behaviors that felt safe to you. David was the one who said no. Now it's your turn.'

Divad gives a heavy sigh. 'That's not gonna be easy.'

'No,' Ptonomy agrees. 'So I'd like to try a quick roleplay. I'll be Past David. I've accepted that you're not the monster, but I'm still scared and hurting and I need to feel safe. You two need to work as a team to help me. Ready?'

Dvd and Divad glance at each other. 'Ready,' they think.

'I don't want to be here,' Ptonomy says, with a David-like whine. 'I want to go back to the way things were in college. It was fine.' He turns to Divad. 'You're better at being me anyway.'

'No,' Divad says, gently but firmly. 'David, that wasn't good for either of us. I can't cover for you anymore, and you need to stay in the world so everyone can help you, so you can get better.'

'I don't need to get better,' Ptonomy pouts, as Past David. He turns to Dvd. 'Why aren't you taking care of me? You're supposed to take care of me.'

Dvd struggles for his answer. 'I am taking care of you. I'm right here, okay? But I can't-- Be everything you need. I have to take care of myself and so do you.'

'You hate me,' Ptonomy moans, as Past David. 'What did I do wrong? Just tell me, I'll fix it, I'm sorry.'

'David, no,' Divad says, upset. 'You didn't do anything wrong, you just-- You have to get better.'

'What's the point?' Ptonomy grumbles, as Past David. 'I'll never get better.'

'You have to try anyway,' Dvd insists. 'We love you. But the way we were doing things-- It was wrong.'

'I'm sorry,' Ptonomy sobs. 'It's all my fault.'

'That's not true,' Divad sighs. 'David--'

'You hate me!' Ptonomy says, angrily. Then he gives Dvd a pleading look. 'Dvd, please. I need you. Please, we can-- We can just be inside again, like we were. We don't need the world, the world hates us. We'll never go out again.'

Dvd takes a sharp breath in, remembering how David was with Syd that night. Pleading with her for it to be-- Just the two of them, isolated from everyone else. David really was re-enacting. Dvd didn't see it then, but he does now.

'No,' Dvd thinks, roughly. 'David, we do need the world. We need people, we need-- Being alone isn't good for us. I don't want to hide anymore.'

Ptonomy gives Dvd a wounded look, then turns back to Divad. 'You know I can't do this. I can't, Divad.'

'I know it's hard,' Divad thinks, gently. 'But you have to try. I was wrong, David. You're so strong and brave and-- You've survived so much. You never deserved to be tortured, not by the monster and not by me. Please, stay here with us.'

Ptonomy falters, as Past David, then pouts again. 'I don't want to be here. I hate it.'

'We know,' Divad thinks, still gently. 'But we're going to be with you every step of the way, okay? Like we always were. Like when we were kids, remember? And everyone here loves you and wants you to be happy. That's all we want. Don't you want to be happy?'

'I don't deserve it,' Ptonomy whines, as Past David.

'I know it feels that way,' Divad thinks. 'But that's-- It's the parasite, remember? The shame parasite. Don't let it win. You fought so hard to stay with us for all those years. Please stay with us now.'

Ptonomy turns back to Dvd, silently pleading.

'He's right,' Dvd thinks, genuinely. 'You think I'd ever say that if I didn't mean it? You know I only ever wanted to keep you safe. That's all I ever wanted, David. Trust me, this is the best way for you to be safe.'

'But it hurts,' Ptonomy whines, but weaker.

'It really fucking hurts,' Dvd thinks, and means it. 'But then it gets better. I promise, I swear it gets better. And then we'll be happy together. And we won't have to hide, we won't be afraid, we won't-- There won't be any more monsters in our head, okay? No more monsters ever again.'

Dvd looks at Ptonomy, but all he can see is Past David. He's in so much pain and he's so scared. It breaks Dvd's heart.

'Can I-- Hug you?' Dvd asks.

Ptonomy hesitates, as Past David, but then nods. Dvd wraps his arms around himself, imagines hugging Past David so tight. God, if he could pull Past David inside himself and keep him there, he would, he would.

But he can't. He doesn't-- He doesn't want to have to carry all that pain. He doesn't want to hide Past David away from everyone else. He doesn't want to be trapped with him, suffocating but unable to walk away. He wants to be free, to be happy and-- To be able to come back home and be happy there, too. That's all he wants.

Ptonomy closes his eyes, and when he opens them, it's clear the roleplay has ended.

'Did we help him?' Dvd asks, quietly.

'You did,' Ptonomy says. 'A little at a time and you'll get there. You know you can because you already did it once before.'

'We did,' Divad thinks, and he feels-- Calm. Ready.

Dvd doesn't feel that ready. But-- He knows what he wants. Love and freedom, the chance for both of them to step out of that tiny prison they made for themselves and just-- Try everything. Leave all the pain behind, be anything they want to be, and-- Be new together.

He wants that so much.

'That's a very healthy thing to want,' Ptonomy says, gently. 'You both did a great job.'

'Dvd,' Divad thinks, full of emotion. 'That's-- A really nice dream.'

'You're in it, too,' Dvd tells him. 'It's for all of us.'

'All of us,' Divad agrees.

Chapter 174: Day 14: The wrong mask. (David)

Chapter Text

David wakes up feeling loved. Not from inside himself, but from outside. He opens his eyes and sees-- Syd?

"Hey," Syd says, softly, smiling. She's sitting on the coffee table.

"Hey," David says back, and he's-- Transfixed. He looks into her eyes and feels waves of soft happiness coming from her, fondness, relief, love. She reaches out, but stops before she touches him. She holds out her gloved hand, offering it. David doesn't know what to do, and then-- Nods.

She cups her hand against his cheek. He can feel her warmth through the thin glove.

'Syd,' he thinks, sending the thought to her with all its feeling. He rests his hand over hers, holding it. He feels her soft joy. He doesn't know why she's so happy, they've been apart all day, busy with everything, but-- Now they're together.

He sighs and lets go of her hand. She takes her hand away, but brings it back, pets his hair, his shoulder. He keeps still, hardly believing they're doing this. He blinks against sudden tears.

"This okay?" Syd murmurs.

David swallows. "Very," he says, roughly, smiling crookedly. He turns his face against the pillow, tries to work through his sudden rush of feelings. Syd hesitates, then keeps touching him, gentle and steady. Then he turns to face her and-- Catches her hand. Rests it against his cheek.

He breathes and then-- Lets go.

Syd takes back her hand as he sits up. He rubs his face and looks around, orienting himself. Past David is still asleep on the other sofa, Dvd is stretched out in the far loveseat, and everyone else is sitting around the table, chatting quietly. Lenny, Melanie, Amy, Ptonomy, Divad, Oliver, Clark. There's a stack of cardboard boxes in the open area by the beds, and some kind of printouts spread all over Cary's work area.

He looks over at Dvd and realizes-- The love he's feeling is coming from Dvd, too, and feels so much the same as Syd's. Soft happiness, fondness, relief-- And a thrill of nervous excitement?

David wants to ask about that, but-- He needs to focus on Syd first.

"You okay?" he asks, even though he can feel that she is.

"Yeah," Syd says. "Good nap?"

Waking up was better, David thinks. But he can't manage to say that. "I missed you today."

Syd's answer to that is to hold out her hand again. David takes it, holds it between his hands.

"This okay?" David asks.

Syd nods. "No needles. But even if there was--"

He looks at their joined hands, fascinated. He touches the back of her hand, tracing lightly with his fingertips. Then he switches hands and traces her palm. He feels a thrill of nervous excitement coming from Syd, too, now, and it encourages him. He brings her hand to his cheek again, lets it rest there, and then-- Turns against it and places a light kiss on her palm.

Syd tenses, takes a sharp breath in. David lets her go, and she pulls her hand back, but then-- She smiles, and he feels a wave of surprised happiness. She looks at her palm, where he kissed. She glances over her shoulder, then at Dvd -- who has a carefully blank expression despite the jealousy and longing David's feeling from him -- then composes herself.

"We got the results of Melanie's scan," Syd says. "No damage. She should start remembering, soon."

"That's great!" David says, very relieved. "Um. Can I help?"

"I think we've given Melanie enough memory prompts for now," Syd says. "We just have to wait and-- Be ready."

She stands and offers her hand to help him up. David pushes away the blanket and takes her hand, stands. She pulls him towards the table, but-- He resists.

"I, uh, need a minute," he tells her. She nods and he goes over to Dvd. Dvd shifts to make room, and David sits down in the loveseat with him.

They both look at Past David. He's still asleep.

"I'm not jealous," Dvd declares.

David raises his eyebrows. Dvd is incredibly jealous.

Dvd sighs. 'Sometimes I hate telepathy,' he thinks.

And then without warning, Dvd rests his head on David's shoulder and sighs. And David feels-- A quiet version of what he feels so strongly with Syd. That shared longing for closeness, for connection. The ghost of all the feelings he used to have, that Past David still has.

"I was gonna wait but--" Dvd straightens up and meets his eyes. "I wanna-- Can we--" He hesitates, struggling. He looks across the room, at the table. 'I can do this. I'm a person. I can do people things. I'm not chicken.' He takes a steadying breath. "I wanna have coffee. With you."

"Coffee?" David echoes, confused.

"Date coffee," Dvd says. "A coffee date. Look, this was Oliver's idea."

"Oliver?" David says, even more confused.

Dvd puts his face in his hands and groans.

'Do you want help?' Divad thinks.

'Yes,' Dvd thinks back.

Divad walks over. He looks at Past David. 'Maybe we should do this with both of him awake?'

'I hate this,' Dvd thinks. Waves of anxiety are pouring off him. 'Wait. Don't wake him up.'

'He's part of this, too,' Divad thinks.

'Of course he is,' Dvd thinks, annoyed. 'Just-- Gimme a minute.' He gathers himself and turns back to David. "David, I want-- I know you asked-- We acknowledged our feelings. But I need-- I want-- To try-- Acting on them?" He winces, and now there's waves of embarrassment mixing with the anxiety.

"Oh," David says, taking that in.

"Yes, 'oh'," Dvd says, tartly. Then he winces again. 'Being a person is awful.'

David looks to Syd. She's less than pleased, but-- She nods, encouraging, then looks at Past David.

And then it clicks. Past David, his feelings for Dvd, Dvd's feelings for-- All of David--

Even with Past David as a separate headmate-- All those feelings and memories--

'Ptonomy thinks it's time,' Divad thinks to him. 'We need to-- Make some new, positive memories. Take back what Farouk stole. What do you think?'

'I don't know,' David thinks back, uncertain. There's so much going on. And he's finally working things out with Syd, he can't just-- Turn around and go on a date with Dvd. Can he?

'It's a therapy date,' Divad says. 'Oliver's going to have coffee with Melanie, and talk, and-- We thought you and Past David could-- Hold hands. Share your feelings.'

David leans back.

'It's for both of you,' Divad continues. 'Farouk tricked you into thinking we're the monster. We have to help that part of you accept the truth, like we're doing with Melanie. If we don't-- Do something about those feelings then-- Farouk could use them.'

'I'm not the monster,' Dvd thinks, quiet but intense. 'Can we just-- Try? Please?'

David looks at Past David. He might not know how he feels about Dvd, but Past David does. Or he did until Farouk confused him. David's been struggling with Past David's feelings all day, and once their system is all back together--

And if, one day, David gets all those feelings and memories back for himself--

'It's a good idea,' David admits. 'Okay. When, um--'

'We need to get Past David settled before we throw anything else at him,' Divad thinks. 'Amy's got a plan. You wanna do the honors?'

David braces himself and walks over, sits on the coffee table beside Past David. He pauses, considering how-- This is himself. Not a separate identity, not yet. When he was in Farouk's dreamworld, this is how he was. This is David, as truly as he's also David.

And this part of David-- Loves Dvd, the way David loves Syd now. This part of David is heartbroken from the lies Farouk fed him, just like-- How Melanie is heartbroken.

Melanie's going to remember. She's going to remember that she loves Oliver, and then? So much time has passed, twenty two years. They're both such different people now, even aside from Farouk's changes.

But he remembers-- Melanie loving Oliver even when he had no idea who she was. She never gave up. And he can't help but think of how Dvd never gave up on him.

But he's afraid. What if getting Dvd back-- Means he loses Syd? Farouk used her, too. Past David doesn't love Syd, not like David loves her. They've worked so hard to get back to each other. He doesn't want that-- Violation to hurt them.

Farouk raped him. In the dream, Farouk pretended to be Syd and raped him.

Past David can't accept that, but David does. Maybe this is the trap Farouk set, or some of it. To finally work through all the pain of what David did to Syd, what they did to each other, and then have to-- Take on that memory. He doesn't want to remember that.

Maybe they should erase it all, that whole year. They need to keep the good things, but-- Maybe the answer is simple. Maybe he just lets Past David in and takes the pain and-- Lets Divad erase whatever needs erasing.

Who's he kidding? Divad would have to erase everything to put him back together, and then what was the point? What's the point of any of this?

"David," Divad says, worried.

David slowly realizes that everyone's watching them. Watching him. But he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Ptonomy helped him feel better before, but--

'This is about Syd,' Divad thinks to him. 'She's right here. Talk to her. That's healthy, right? Let her help.'

'Syd didn't rape me,' David thinks back.

'What, you wanna talk it out with Farouk?' Divad thinks. 'C'mon. It's like-- With Amy. It has to be okay for you to tell Syd things that are upsetting.'

David gives a frustrated sigh. He knows Divad is right. He leaves Past David sleeping and walks over to Syd. Glances at everyone at the table, then-- "Can we-- Talk?" He winces at how that came out. "I mean, I-- There's something wrong and-- I need to talk to you about it."

"Of course," Syd says, concerned but reassuring.

They walk over to the cots and sit down facing each other. David gathers himself.

"I guess you know about the, uh-- The therapy date," he starts.

"I know," Syd says. "I think it's a good idea."

"You do?"

"Is that what you're upset about?" Syd asks. "This is part of healing your system, keeping you safe. Did you think I wouldn't want that?"

"I don't know if I want it," David admits. "I don't know-- If I want any of it."

Syd gives a nod of understanding. "It's a lot. All those memories."

"In the dream, I don't remember, but-- Farouk-- Raped me." His voice catches. "As you. And I don't--" He swallows. He gives a small, bitter, burst of a laugh. "It's not even the first time. I don't know how many times--" He looks away, overcome.

Syd moves to his cot and sits beside him. She offers her hand, and he takes it, holds it tight.

She doesn't know about Ptonomy's plan. They can't tell her without telling Farouk, without giving him the chance to sabotage it. David hates not being able to tell her. But she knows enough. She knows one way or another, Past David will have to come home.

"David, you know that-- Syd Farouk isn't Syd Barrett," Syd says. "You know that, right?"

David lets out a shaky breath. "Right."

"So that mask Farouk wore," Syd says. "It wasn't even the right mask. He wasn't pretending to be me. He was pretending to be-- Someone who looked like me. Someone with a completely different life, with no powers. Not me. Right?"

"Not you," David says, a small relief breaking through the fear. The wrong mask. He used the wrong Syd.

Syd eases, too. "What he did to you-- That's your Farouk trauma. Not your Syd trauma. And I know it's huge and scary, but-- You've been working so hard and-- I'm so proud of how far you've come. And-- I love you and-- We can get through anything together."

David stares at her. The fear edges further back and-- He thinks about how safe she used to make him feel. How she promised to protect him, in Summerland, and she did.

"I love you, too," David says, and his heart swells with love for her, with relief, with tenderness. He wants to kiss her so much, and reflexively thinks he can't, but--

No needles. He's not in his body. He's a projection.

"Syd," he starts, stomach fluttering, and then--

"I'm sorry, no," Melanie says to Amy, firm but upset. "That's impossible."

"I'm afraid it's true," Amy says.

"I was with David every moment of every day," Melanie says. "He did not have sex with my daughter."

"Melanie," Ptonomy starts, but she's not listening. She gets up from the table and heads right for Past David.

Divad gets to her first, barring the way.

"I won't believe it until I hear it from him," Melanie says.

"You'll upset him," Divad says, not budging.

Syd stands and heads back to the sitting area. "Melanie," she says, intervening.

"Syd, tell them how ridiculous this is," Melanie says. "No one had sex in that lab. That would be a massive ethical breach."

"Syd?" Past David sits up, bleary-eyed. "What's going on?"

"Everything's okay," Syd soothes. She gives Melanie a pointed look, and Melanie huffs but backs down. Syd walks around and sits on the coffee table, facing him. "Sorry we woke you. Did you have a good nap?"

Melanie walks past Divad and sits in the loveseat. Past David glances at her, then looks back to Syd.

Syd exchanged a long look with Melanie, then braces herself and turns back to Past David. "David, I have-- A quick question. About what you remember. Is that okay?"

"Uh, sure," Past David says. He brings his legs down so he's sitting, but pulls the blanket close.

"In Amahl's lab," Syd says, carefully. "You and Syd Farouk. You were close, right?"

"Yeah," Past David says, warily, but there's a flush of adoration in all his groggy confusion. "You, um. She said we were friends?"

Syd looks to Melanie, and Melanie nods. Syd turns back to Past David.

"I know it's a strange question," Syd says. "And you don't have to answer it if you don't want to. But-- Were you and Syd Farouk-- Intimate?"

Past David immediately blushes. "I don't-- I mean-- You-- She-- Said it was-- Um-- Touch therapy? Advanced--" He blushes deeper.

Syd looks to Melanie again. Melanie looks skeptical. Syd turns back to Past David.

"And can you-- Describe what happened?" Syd asks. "You don't have to."

Syd's consideration only confuses Past David. "We had sex. I mean, it wasn't sex, it was-- Therapy, but--" He quirks a tiny smile.

Melanie does not look happy.

"And when did you do this-- Therapy?" Syd asks.

"Oh, right before-- I woke up here," Past David says. He glances at Melanie, then back to Syd. "Why? Um, do we-- We don't-- Need to do it again?"

Past David definitely wants to do it again.

David feels vaguely ill. And so does Melanie.

"Are you sure?" Melanie asks, pressing. "David, are you really sure? Maybe it was a dream."

"Everything's a dream," Past David says, with a kind of horrified lightness. "But yeah, I mean-- You were there."

A pulse of horror slips out of Melanie. "I was there?"

"Yeah, for the therapy," Past David says. "I mean, it was weird, but-- Amahl was there, and-- It was a treatment. It would've been-- If you weren't there--" He swallows, nervous, uncertain.

"Okay," Syd soothes. "That's it. We're done. I'm sorry we woke you up."

She gives Melanie a meaningful look, and Melanie gets up and walks away.

"It's okay," Past David says. But he pulls the blanket closer, and then pulls his knees up, wraps his arms around them. 'So many masks,' he thinks, afraid. He's full of so much fear, fear David has to fight against all over again.

He's so tired of fear.

He stands up and walks over to Melanie. "Give us a moment?" he tells the others, and then gestures for Melanie to follow him out to the hall. She does, and once they're out and the door is closed, she gives him an expectant look.

David's not sure what to say, what will help. Maybe nothing will help. Maybe all this is just going to always be hard forever. He feels like he wished on a monkey's paw, wanting his memories back. Farouk is the living embodiment of a monkey's paw.

"David?" Melanie prompts, when he says nothing.

"Amahl Farouk raped me," David says, as quietly and calmly as he can. "I don't-- Want to be angry with you. None of this is your fault. But please. This is already-- Incredibly difficult. Don't make it harder."

"My husband would never--" Melanie starts, loudly.

David hushes her, then gestures for her to continue.

"My husband would never rape anyone, much less a patient," Melanie says quietly. "And it's Syd he's accusing, not Amahl. And all of this is ridiculous because absolutely none of that happened."

"Because you don't remember it?" David asks. "Like you don't remember most of your life, most of your daughter's life?"

Melanie crosses her arms and scowls at him. "Just because I have-- Partial amnesia, that doesn't mean I have any reason to believe this ridiculous story you're all telling."

"You're going to feel really shitty about this when you start remembering," David sighs.

"The only thing I'm going to remember is the memories that-- You or the monster or someone stole from me," Melanie insists. "I'm going to get everything back, including my powers, and get David and Syd back to Amahl and away from you."

"He is me," David says, tiredly. "Are you going to save me, too?"

"Oh, I'll save you," Melanie says, like it's a threat. It probably is. "I'll--" And then she falters, frowns.

"Melanie?" David prompts, concerned.

Melanie steps back until she's leaning against the wall. She stares at him for a long moment, and then-- Holds out her hand. "Come on, son. Take my hand."

Her words are naggingly familiar. David reaches out and takes her hand. She stares at him, wide-eyed.

And then David remembers. Escaping from Division 3, guns blazing around them, and then the beach and-- Melanie was there, waiting for him. Reaching out. And he took her hand.

"Melanie?" David says. "Do you remember-- The beach? A boat?"

"Water," Melanie says, and closes her eyes. "Guns in the distance, screams, I was-- I was so worried and-- Excited about-- You?" She opens her eyes and stares at him.

She lets go of his hand and covers her mouth.

David smiles, grins. "You remember?" He's overwhelmed with relief. 'Oliver, she remembers!'

'Keep calm,' Oliver thinks back. 'Give her space.'

David takes a step back. It's hard to keep still, he can't believe-- He was so afraid the memories wouldn't come back, he was so afraid.

"C'mon, let's-- Let's go back," David says, and ushers her back into the lab.

He feels-- Suddenly light and-- Like he can do this, they can do this. He leaves Melanie with Oliver and Syd and goes back to the sitting area, to Past David and Divad and Dvd.

"Dvd," David says, dizzy with determination. "Will you-- Have coffee with me? And-- Myself?"

Dvd goes from soberly worried to a wide grin in half a second. "Yes," he says, and David feels a rush of love and happiness and relief, from the outside, from Dvd, and-- From inside himself.

Chapter 175: Day 14: Memory is built on connections. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

Melanie's read all this before. She read about-- Finding David Haller, the impossibly powerful mutant, the mutant who they believed could change everything and did change everything. But it was just a story.

And now it's a story she remembers. Just a fragment of it, but--

She reads it again, and remembers again.

Water. Gunfire. A swell of hope in her chest as figures rush to meet her. David Haller looking to her, scared and uncertain but euphoric at his rescue. Syd beside him, eager, determined. Ptonomy warily watching for their pursuers, for any surviving Division 3 soldiers. And-- Rudy? The story says his name was Rudy, and that-- He died, later, trying to save David Haller again. From the Divisions, from Amahl Farouk, the supposed Shadow King.

She puts the tablet down and looks at the people with her, at the table here in this rooftop garden. Oliver, Clark, Ptonomy. She looks at Clark's scarred face. Rudy did that to him then, according to the story. It's a very violent story.

"Anything else coming back?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," Melanie says, stubbornly.

"That's all right," Oliver soothes. "My memories came back-- In dribs and drabs, at first."

Melanie frowns at him. She doesn't want more of these memories that aren't hers, that can't be real. It has to be a trick, like all of this has to be a trick. "This is not my life," she tells them, pointing at the tablet.

But she looks at Oliver, and remembers-- Hoping with all her heart that David would have strong enough powers to find him.

She pushes back against the new memory. Oliver is just a stranger, a Division 3 patsy. David doesn't have powers. He's a sick human who had a monster in his head.

Maybe David is right, and this isn't the Divisions' tricks but the monster's. Maybe none of this is real. She doesn't want it to be real.

"You did want David to save me," Oliver says. "Very much. Memories involving-- Intense emotions seem to come back first."

"How did you feel about Syd, in the memory?" Ptonomy asks.

Melanie shifts, sighs. She doesn't see the point of playing along with this farce, when they must be the ones who put the memory inside her in the first place. But fine. "She felt-- Secondary. She wasn't my daughter. She was just-- Another mutant patient. A way to get to David."

"You became close later on, after David was taken by the orb," Ptonomy explains.

Melanie gives him a disbelieving look.

"Memory is built on connections," Ptonomy says, undeterred. "This memory connects with a lot of things in your real past as well as your current memories. Syd and David, the threat of the Divisions. Me and Oliver and Clark. Summerland."

He pauses, waiting for her to acknowledge that. She nods.

"What I'd like us to do is follow the connections out of this initial memory and see where they lead us," Ptonomy continues. "What aspect of it feels strongest to you?"

"David," Melanie admits. She remembers the feel of his hand in hers, large and warm, damp and rough with dirt from his escape.

"That makes sense," Ptonomy says. "You need to save David now, right? That feeling is a lot like feeling you had back then."

"I suppose," Melanie admits. The intense hope, the need, the-- The sense that if she can just save David, everything will be okay. If she can save him, she can-- She can save her husband.

No. No, she already saved Amahl, he's safe, away from the monster and the Divisions. She remembers that. But the feeling--

"Where did you leave him?" Oliver asks. "Amahl?"

"If I think it, you'll know," Melanie says, defensive.

"That's true," Oliver says. "But what if you don't know either?"

Melanie's stomach gives an unpleasant twist. She tries to remember-- What happened, exactly, after David was taken. She remembers-- Amahl holding her hands, telling her-- It was essential that they save David from the Divisions. And of course it was essential, of course it was, she felt that so urgently.

But she can't remember where they were. Was it far away? It must have been close. The next thing she remembers, she was in Division 3, walking up the stairs to the infirmary with only one goal on her mind.

"Maybe I knew before you messed with my mind," Melanie says.

"Memory is the Shadow King's favorite tool," Ptonomy says. "By changing a memory, he can redirect the experiential and emotional associations. For example, he redirected David's love and trust for his adoptive mother to Amy."

"So you think, what, this 'Shadow King' replaced Oliver with-- Amahl?" Melanie asks, half scoffing, and half-- Wondering.

"We believe that's exactly what he did," Oliver says, regretful. "Easier to use what's already there than create all that from scratch."

"Farouk needed you to need to save David," Ptonomy says. "He modified that memory and put it at the forefront of your mind. We think that's why the original memory was the first to come back."

Melanie gives an irritated huff.

"We know this is difficult," Ptonomy says. "But you have the context to understand each isolated memory. And we think this will get easier once-- You get a critical mass of recovered memories."

"Once I believe I'm Melanie Bird, you mean," Melanie says.

"Essentially, yes," Oliver says. "Your memories as Melanie Farouk are-- Limited. David described living with false memories as-- Trying to sew ragged scraps into a quilt. Would you say that's how you feel?"

Melanie wishes she could say no.

"Let's get back to the rescue," Ptonomy says. "Is there anything else that feels important?"

Melanie concentrates. She feels-- A distant tug, but-- "I don't know."

"Close your eyes," Ptonomy says. "Put yourself inside the memory. You're standing on the beach. You hear gunfire. You must have been worried."

Melanie closes her eyes and remembers. "Yes."

"You were worried about David," Ptonomy says. "What else?"

Melanie hears the guns. She looks back at the boat, wondering if-- If it went wrong. Maybe she should go back.

"Back where?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't know," Melanie says. "Up the river."

"Do you remember where you came from?" Ptonomy asks. "Do you remember being in the boat and arriving at the beach, with Syd and Ptonomy and Rudy?"

She does. She remembers a quiet approach, coming around high ground, a rocky cliff. Everyone tense and on alert.

"Great," Ptonomy says. "Do you remember everyone getting into the boat? The start of the rescue?"

"No," Melanie admits. She can't go any further back.

"Okay," Ptonomy. "How about-- After David was saved? Do you remember leaving?"

"Yes," Melanie says. "We got into the boat. We were-- Worried we'd be followed. We used the water to hide our tracks, the scent. The Divisions use dogs."

"Where were you going?" Ptonomy asks.

Melanie feels another niggle, but she can't-- She shakes her head. "Somewhere safe. That's all I remember." She considers the story. "It's Summerland? Where we came from, where we went."

"Yes," Ptonomy says. "Do you remember anything about Summerland?"

Melanie shakes her head.

"But you do you know-- It feels safe?" Oliver says.

"I suppose," Melanie says. She knows that their destination was safe, that it was-- Home? "It was home?"

"It was," Ptonomy agrees, warmly. "You lived there for decades. You built it with Oliver and Cary. Summerland's going to be associated with a lot of powerful memories."

"Cary," Melanie echoes. Even though she's obviously read about him, the name feels-- Familiar, but also-- Out of reach. "In the story, we were-- Close friends?"

"Very much," Oliver says. "I believe-- Especially after my disappearance. You depended on each other a great deal."

"And now he's-- His soul is on the astral plane," Melanie says. "And his body is-- David's body."

"Well, partially," Oliver says. "Technically, Cary does have his own separate physical projection, but it was-- Badly damaged."

"We're hoping to find a way to heal it," Ptonomy says. "But for now it's on life support in the infirmary. I think-- You saw it, when you found David?"

Melanie frowns, thinking back. She was so intent on saving David, and then angry at Amy-- But she vaguely remembers-- A man?

"I want to see him," she decides. No, she needs to see him.

"I think that's a very good idea," Oliver says, pleased.

They leave the garden and walk to the elevator. Melanie grips at her notebook and tablet and looks at Clark. "You must be enjoying this," she tells him.

"I must?" Clark asks, eyebrows raised.

"You've been trying to get your hands on me for years," Melanie says.

"Me personally?" Clark asks. "Or Division 3?"

Melanie hesitates. Somehow it feels like--

"You did just meet me this morning," Clark reminds her. "Are you remembering me already? I'm touched."

Melanie scowls at him.

"Division 3 would've been pretty important to both Melanies," Clark says, casually. He smirks at Oliver.

Oliver does not seem especially bothered.

They arrive at the infirmary. Melanie looks at the empty bed where David was. She remembers finding him asleep, remembers knocking Amy out, remembers-- He wouldn't wake up. And then she knew, somehow, that he was being forced asleep by the thing on his head. So she took it off. But she left the crown. It was-- Connected to his brain, she didn't want to risk hurting him.

And then she turns and looks at the only patient in the room. And the niggling feeling becomes a pressure in her mind, urging her on.

"This is Cary's physical projection," Oliver tells her. "His body, if you will."

Melanie stands next to Cary's body. It's lifeless, sustained by machines, and that feels-- Wrong, somehow. Upsetting, even though she can't remember him. She reaches for his hand, but hesitates.

"I'd ask Cary," Oliver says, "But I think he'll be fine with you holding his hand."

"He wears-- Glasses, doesn't he?" Melanie asks. His face seems like it should have glasses.

Ptonomy takes a pair of dark-rimmed glasses from the bedside table, and eases them onto Cary's face.

She suddenly remembers him-- Frowning, worried. Smiling, happy. She has a sense of-- What isn't present in him now. His personality, his spirit, his-- Soul.

She takes his limp hand and remembers-- Excitement. Powerful mutant activity on his scanners, off the charts. Even more powerful than Oliver. Telekinetic, probably telepathic. Absolutely off the charts, like nothing he'd ever seen.

David. He found David. And all she could think was-- She was finally going to get Oliver back.

"Stay with the memory," Ptonomy says, softly. "Do you see what's around you?"

Melanie closes her eyes. She sees-- Green. Trees. A forest just beyond. She's standing on a balcony. The air is cool and mildly damp. She's holding a cup of coffee. It's morning.

"Cary's there," she says. "He's a little breathless, talking too fast. He's so excited."

"What happens next?" Ptonomy prompts.

"We go inside," Melanie says. The space fills in around her, assembling itself in fits and starts. Warm wood, natural light coming through large glass windows. Everything feels comfortable, relaxing. She feels safe. She feels home. She feels-- An aching emptiness that never goes away.

There are people milling around, lots of them. Men and women, teenagers and adults. She feels connected to each of them, even though she doesn't know their names, can't see their faces.

"Summerland?" Melanie says, uncertain but-- Certain. And she has a sudden memory of-- That same space when it was brand new, when it smelled of fresh wood and paint and she feels young and so, so happy. And Cary's there, fussing over some wiring, and-- Oliver.

Oliver's there, and there's no grey in his hair.

She lets go of Cary's hand and steps back, covers her mouth. The memories are so strong, so sudden and overwhelming.

Oliver guides her to a chair, and she sits heavily.

Ptonomy sits next to her. "That looked like a big one."

Melanie gives a faint nod. She stares at Cary. How can she remember him when he's a complete and total stranger? How can she know that-- She cares about him, and he cares about her?

She knows it. And it's not-- The story said they were friends, but-- She can't remember--

She can't remember having any friends. Only her work and-- her family. She was always on the go, she couldn't--

But this feeling, this-- Love. She feels love for Cary. And she feels that-- He loves her. And there's nothing-- She never felt that kind of-- Warm understanding, the ease of complete trust and support. Not even with Amahl because--

She was always away. She was always-- Missing him, longing to get back to him, and yet-- She never stayed. Their work was too important, pulling them apart until-- David brought them back together.

She thinks-- She resented Amahl for that. For not being with her. For always choosing his work over her, even though-- She chose work over him, too. But she doesn't remember resenting him in the lab. She was just so happy they were together, with David. They wouldn't be together without David.

How can they be together without David?

Did he love her at all?

A few tears leak from her eyes, and she wipes them away. "I don't understand," she says, feeling so lost.

"You're going to be pretty jumbled for a while," Ptonomy says, gently. "Now that you're remembering, the two sets of memories-- They're tangled together. But we'll untangle them."

Melanie looks up at Oliver and feels-- A niggling pressure in her mind. Not overpowering, not yet, but--

She turns back to Cary. Seeing him like this-- It hurts. It's wrong. She feels-- Upset, she feels-- Grief?

But he's not dead. He's just-- Trapped. Inside of David, somehow. And the need to-- Talk to him, to hear that he's all right--

"We need to go back to the lab," she tells them. "I need to talk to Cary."

"You will," Ptonomy promises. "But for now, let's just-- Take a moment. Tell me how you feel."

"I don't know," Melanie admits. If they put these memories in her, if they're making her feel these things-- How can she trust them? How can she trust any of it to be real?

"I think that's something you'll have to decide for yourself," Ptonomy says. "The rest of your memories are going to come back. And then-- You'll have two sets of memories."

Melanie wants to call the whole thing ridiculous. They can't really expect her to become a different person, to accept a whole other lifetime of memories, just like that?

But what she feels for Cary, even though she can barely remember him-- How can she feel so much without knowing why?

"Memories are complicated," Oliver says. He pulls over a chair and sits beside her. "When we were first reunited, I had the distinct sense that-- You were Chinese."

Melanie gives a surprised laugh. "Chinese?"

"It was rather silly, yes," Oliver admits, fondly. "Cary and Kerry gave quite a lecture about types of memory. Perhaps you'd like to see it? I believe the mainframe should have a recording. Ptonomy, could you--"

Ptonomy closes his eyes for a moment, then opens them. "It's on Melanie's tablet now."

Melanie warily opens her tablet, and Ptonomy directs her to the new folder labelled 'Cary and Kerry Loudermilk.' She opens it, then the file. The video starts to play, surveillance footage of the lab. Amahl's lab, but-- Not his lab.

Oliver's sitting on a chair, and Cary and Kerry are standing next to him. Ptonomy is standing nearby.

"We need a baseline for Oliver's different kinds of memory," Kerry says, in the video. "Memory's actually— Okay, first there's sensory memory. That's automatic in response to sensory input. Then there's short term memory."

Melanie pauses it. "Is there more of this? Video of Cary?"

"We'll give you everything we've got," Ptonomy says.

Melanie unpauses the video and settles in to watch.

Chapter 176: Day 14: All of this is ours. (Past David)

Notes:

Sorry for the slow updates! The holidays and a side project conspired to steal my writing time. The project will be done soon (an S3 AU Legion novel, co-written with Hexiva!) and I'll be able to get back to wmfccio fully.

On the plus side: there are two new pieces of wmfccio art! The first was a lovely Chanukah gift from Hexiva: an illustration of David and Farouk's confrontation in chapter 4:

 

https://hexiva.tumblr.com/post/189826154567/versaphile-happy-second-day-of-hanukkah-this-is

 

And the second is a commission by Abigailsins, who also created the cover art! She did an amazing piece of David and "Amahl" from the interludes:

 

https://versaphile.tumblr.com/post/189882297577/safe-with-amahl-by-abigailsins-an-illustration

Chapter Text

Kerry's staring at him.

Of all the monster's masks, she's the strangest. The monster's pretending its other masks can't see or hear her or Cary, which is-- Weird but hardly the weirdest thing the monster's ever done to trick him.

Cary's left him alone since he woke up. Cary's pacing back and forth, reading those printouts they spread out for him, and sometimes he mutters to himself or grumbles about not having anything to write with. But Kerry's been staring at David and she hasn't said anything.

At least she’s not shouting at him.

David takes another Twizzler out of his care package and nibbles at it, and tries to ignore her. Talking to invisible people never ends well for him. Of course he usually doesn't know they're invisible until it's too late. And if everyone’s the monster—

It’s a trick, somehow. It has to be, it always is. But he’s too stupid to figure it out until it’s too late. Divad knows that, or— He used to.

All those things Divad said, when they came here, all that— Kindness—

He glances over at Divad, gathered with everyone else at the table, then quickly looks back down at the care package.

None of it was true, what Divad said. The truth is-- David's stupid and useless and can't do anything right. He's weak and worthless and a burden that-- That everyone puts up with.

Except the monster. The monster—

Maybe-- That's why Divad was saying all those things? Because he's the monster? But then-- If he was the monster before-- No, that's-- That doesn't make sense. David was just as stupid and useless before everything with Amahl. It's Divad who's-- Different. Older and-- Somehow calmer and-- Happier?

And Dvd-- David doesn't understand what's going on with Dvd at all. Why would he go on a date with-- With a stress response? Or a mask? And all this-- Asking--

Dvd never asked before. Why would he? If he touched David, it was because David needed it. Even if-- It didn't feel like he needed it-- Dvd knew what was best for him, and made him feel better. Just like Amahl and-- And Syd.

It was just-- How they worked. David thought that-- If Divad and Dvd ever came back-- Well, first he thought they'd be angry with him for-- For what he did. For the scars. He was sure Divad would be furious about the scars. Divad hated it when David hurt their body, but David couldn't-- He tried to stop but-- Sometimes he felt so bad that-- Pain was the only thing that helped.

That was why-- It felt so important to do everything Amahl said, to help the scars heal well. So Divad wouldn't-- So maybe he wouldn't be so angry, maybe-- He'd know David didn't need to be punished this time because Amahl already punished him, because Amahl-- Took care of things, while Divad was away. That Amahl did everything possible to fix what David broke. It was all taken care of.

But now that Divad's not punishing him-- It just feels wrong. It feels like David did something so unspeakably awful that he doesn't even deserve to be punished anymore. He was so bad that punishment would be a gift, a kindness, and David doesn't deserve kindness. So what does it mean that Divad's calling him-- Brave and strong and smart?

It has to be a trick. Of course it's a trick, or-- If Divad's not the monster then-- It's a punishment. It must be a punishment, it feels so wrong and confusing-- Maybe it's because-- All the other punishments weren’t enough. David never learned to do anything right, no matter how many times Divad told him exactly what he did wrong. Because he’s so useless and stupid.

He needs to be told what he did wrong so he doesn't do it again. That's what Divad should be telling him, not-- How's he supposed to learn from being told he's going to be safe and happy, from such an obvious, blatant lie?

David would forget about it completely except-- For how the other David feels. For the way David feels when they touch.

With the other David, it feels like-- All the things Divad said are true. That he's not just garbage, that he's-- That there's more to his entire existence than pain.

And he'd be certain that's the monster's trick, except-- The other David isn't the monster. It's the one thing David knows, if he can know anything anymore, if he ever could. And if the other David is actually telling the truth--

If he's telling the truth then--

He can't be. But it doesn't-- It doesn't feel like he's lying.

David grips at the care package and tries not to think about anything.

A few minutes later, Amy walks over. "David? We're going to go through those boxes now. Come join us?"

It's not as though David can say no. So he puts the care package on the coffee table and tugs at the blanket around his shoulders, and he does what she says.

Kerry gets up and follows him.

Melanie left with Oliver, Clark, and Ptonomy for-- A therapy session in the garden, like the other David had. She was pretty upset about-- Remembering something. He's not sure why.

Melanie's been acting really strange since she got here. If she's Melanie. It's not just that she keeps saying things that aren't true. In Amahl’s lab, she was-- Quieter, for a start. Because she was always relaying. She didn't argue or push, she didn't--

Some chairs were pulled away from the table and set around the boxes. Lenny and the other David are together, and then there's an empty seat between him and Divad. Syd's next to him, then Dvd, then another empty chair. Amy's standing with the boxes.

The other David pats the empty chair beside him. David sits there, hoping this means-- The other David will hold hands with him again and make him feel good. Maybe that's the other David's job now that Dvd won't do it.

"David, how are Kerry and Cary doing?" Amy asks. "Kerry, Cary?" she calls out.

David frowns. So much for trying to ignore Kerry and Cary.

Cary looks up. He rubs his face and sighs. "As well as can be expected. This is fascinating, but-- It's a lot of information to sort through without being able to make any notes." He pauses. "Could you ask-- The other David-- I know Oliver tried, but-- Could he make me a pen and a notebook?"

David turns to the other David. "Cary wants to know if you can--" He glances at Cary. "Make him a pen and a notebook?"

David considers this. "I mean-- I could make them, but-- I don't know how to put them where he is?"

"Oliver thinks Cary and Kerry are somewhere on the astral plane," Amy says. "Cary, do you have any ideas about that?"

"Well," Cary starts, frowning with thought. "From what we understand-- Physics tells us that the fundamental reality of matter is frequency, vibrations, wave functions in a field. And mutant powers, psychic powers in particular-- They allow the attunement to different layers of reality, and even interaction with a manipulation of those layers, as we see with-- Psychic constructs--" He frowns deeper. "Perhaps-- In some sense-- Psychic abilities could be tuned to different frequencies, like a radio?" His frown fades. "David, please tell them that-- David should try feeling for different frequencies of the astral plane."

Cary gives David an expectant look.

"Um, Cary says-- Try feeling for different frequencies of-- The astral plane," David relays.

Divad's eyes light up. "Yes! That's where they are! Cary and Kerry are here, but their souls are on-- A level of reality beyond what we can perceive."

"Yes!" Cary says, excited. "Yes, and-- It's a simple matter of testing for higher and lower frequences, like-- Using a particle collider to search for new particles." He gives a strained laugh. "All this so I can write down my notes. David, tell Divad-- They need to test for higher and lower frequencies."

"Cary says to test for higher and lower frequencies," David relays.

"Now?" the other David asks.

"If you could," Cary says, and David relays.

"Cary really wants that pen," Dvd says, amused.

"I'll give it a shot," the other David says. He walks over to the empty table and gestures, and suddenly there's a stack of notebooks and a box of pens in the center.

Cary walks over and tries to take them, but his hand goes right through.

"I'm not sure how to do this," the other David says, but he closes his eyes and concentrates. Nothing seems to happen, but then-- The notebooks vanish.

"Is it working?" the other David asks.

"I can't even see them," Cary says. "Can you see them?"

"Cary can't see them," David relays.

"I can't see them either," Divad says. He gets up and stands by the table, and then so does Kerry. "Keep going. Cary, tell us when you can see them again."

A few slow minutes pass, and then-- "Wait!" Cary cries. "I saw them, just for a moment."

"Cary saw them," David relays. "But they're gone again."

"Go back," Divad urges.

"There!" Cary cries.

"There," David relays, quickly.

There's more fine tuning, and then-- Cary picks up the notebooks and the pens, triumphant. "Astonishing!" he cries, grinning. "Kerry, look!"

Kerry's happy, too. "Tell David to send us root beer. Oh! I want my training dummy!"

David doesn’t. This is ridiculous. Why is the monster doing all this? What's the point of-- Notebooks and root beer? And why is the other David going along with it? Is he being tricked, too? Or is he in on the trick? Would he do that to himself?

He thinks about Divad being angry that he hurt himself, and-- Hurting himself again anyway. And he wonders if maybe he would.

Maybe the other David is in charge of punishment now instead of Divad? Maybe he said they’re not the monster because— The monster put him in charge of torture?

Yes. That makes sense.

Dvd frowns at him.

“Hey!” Kerry says, annoyed.

"Could we use this to make them-- Perceptible?" Divad wonders. He pauses. "Oliver says not to do anything else without him."

"I think that's a very good idea," Amy says.

"I want root beer," Kerry pouts. "Being an astral projection is the worst."

"Cary, will you be all right now?" Amy asks.

Cary doesn't reply. He's entirely focused on writing.

"He's fine," Kerry sighs.

“David?” Amy prompts.

"He's fine," David sighs.

"Good. We have plenty to do before Oliver gets back," Amy says. She ushers everyone to sit back down. "Kerry, will you join us? Unless you want to help Cary?"

Kerry takes the seat next to Dvd. She’s more curious than annoyed, now. "What are you guys gonna do?"

"Is Kerry joining us?" Amy asks David.

David nods and points at Kerry.

"Wonderful!" Amy says, pleased. "Then let's get started. David, when you left school, we brought home all your things. But you were very upset, so we just put all the boxes in the attic. But you'd like your things back now, right?"

David looks at the boxes warily. He tries to remember if Amahl said what happened after he was taken to the hospital. He was in a coma for months, Amy and Dad must have packed everything up and taken it home.

Or it wasn't months at all, and-- It hasn't been a year since college but-- Ten years.

Amy takes one of the smaller boxes and puts it on his lap. It's heavy. It's been brushed off but it's still kinda dusty. The box looks like-- It was sitting in an attic for ten years.

The tape is old and peeling, barely holding the box closed. He pulls it off and unfolds the top.

More notebooks?

But he recognizes these. They’re Divad's notebooks, from their classes.

"Oh my god," Divad says, and takes one out. "I loved this class." He opens it and flips through pages of notes, diagrams, formulas.

"You loved all our classes," Dvd says, mildly.

“Oh my god,” Divad says, grinning widely. “Can I?” He gestures at the box, wanting it.

David nods, and Divad takes it, and starts pulling out the notebooks and flipping through them. He brings one to his nose and breathes deep.

“Remember— When we’d use our powers to sneak into the library after it closed?” Divad says, fondly. “It was all ours.”

“Yeah, a building filled with nothing but musty books,” Dvd drawls. “That's living the dream.”

David remembers the library. He remembers being afraid of the dark corners, and Dvd comforting him. There was no one there, no one he could hear, and the monster was quiet. Not gone, never gone, but— Quiet.

“The library,” the other David says, thoughtful. “I remember— Going alone. Sneaking in through a door they never locked.” He flashes a wry smile. “And— Feeling like I belonged there, even though— I was so scared I’d be caught.” He looks at Divad. “That’s mostly you, right?”

Divad’s smile fades. “I think so,” he agrees.

The other David turns to David. “When the monster made me forget our system, it used— Dvd and Divad’s memories, to— Fill in the gaps,” he explains. Then he looks sad. "I don't-- Actually remember anything as it happened. Pretty much at all, until-- We got Farouk out."

"Oh," David says. That sounds awful. "It's okay. I forget things a lot, too."

"We do," the other David says, and it's hard to say if he's happy or sad about it. Maybe if they touched--

But the other David doesn't touch him. Instead he stands up and joins Amy at the boxes. "What else is in here?" He takes a box, starts to open it, then stops. He gives it to Dvd instead. "Your turn."

Dvd opens it, excited, then rolls his eyes. "Ugh, clothes? Boring."

"Let me see," Divad says, and reaches for it.

"Oh no," Dvd says, holding the box away. "It's my turn." He starts pulling things out. "Hey, look!" He holds a sweatshirt against himself, showing their college logo.

"That's mine," Divad says, and reaches for it.

"Why, cause you're in our body?" Dvd says.

"No, because I'm the one who actually studied," Divad pouts. "Give it!"

Amy laughs, and then so does the other David.

"Oh, fine," Dvd sighs, and throws the sweatshirt at Divad's head.

Divad pulls it off, puts down the box of notebooks, and then pulls on the sweatshirt. He grins proudly.

"Such a nerd," Dvd sighs. But he seems-- Happy. Fond.

David stares at them. Dvd and Divad were always fighting in college, at home. They didn't-- Playfully tease each other. They were too angry. They're supposed to be angry, that's-- That's how they work. Why aren't they angry?

"Let's try another," Amy says. She gives it to David, but the tape is still intact so she helps him open it. And right at the top--

"Oh," Amy says, softly. She sits down beside him and takes out the framed photo. She turns it around, displaying it. "It's us!"

It's one of the photos Divad used to keep on their desk. Amy and-- The monster? His system? Both?

The other David walks up. "Can I?" he asks, reaching for the photo. Amy hands it over, and he stares at it. His eyes well with tears and he wipes them away. "I remember when we took this," he says, happy and sad again.

"You were still there," Amy soothes.

The other David looks at David. He seems to want to say something, but then he turns and hands the photo to Divad instead. And then he walks away and sits on Kerry.

Kerry yelps and stands up. "Hey!" She kicks the other David in the shins, but her foot just goes through him. She rounds on David. "Tell him he sat on me!"

But Dvd's already ahead of them. He leans towards the other David. "Uh, David, isn't that-- Kerry's seat?"

"Oh!" The other David realizes and stands up. "Sorry. Sorry, Kerry." He looks around, visibly lost.

Divad puts down his box and the photo and pulls off the sweatshirt. He stands up and goes up to the other David, and then starts pulling the sweatshirt over his head.

"What? Hey!" the other David sputters, but lets Divad put the sweatshirt on him.

"There," Divad says, and tries to smooth down the other David's mussed hair. Tries and fails. "It's yours too, okay? It's ours. I don't care what you remember, all of this is ours."

The other David takes a deep, shaky breath.

"C'mon, say it," Divad presses.

"It's ours," the other David says. He touches the sweatshirt. "It's ours." And his sadness doesn't go away, but it fades.

Divad guides the other David to take Divad's seat between Syd and David, then puts the box of notebooks on his lap, and gives him back the photo. The other David gives an amused huff, then starts looking through the notebooks. Syd leans over to look with him.

Divad turns to David. "What else is in there?"

David pokes through the box. "I think this was everything from our desk." There's a lamp, stationery stuff, it seems like it was all just shoved into the box in a hurry. But if this is everything from their desk, there should be-- "Where's the other photos? The ones with Mom and Dad?"

"We lost them," Divad says, unhappily.

"The monster destroyed them," Dvd corrects.

"But-- Why?" David asks.

"Because-- It didn't want you to remember how much Mom and Dad loved you," Amy says, gently. She looks to the other David, then back to David. "You remember how much they loved you, right?"

David looks down at the stationery.

"David?" Amy says. "How do you feel about Mom and Dad?"

David shrugs.

"Does thinking about them-- Upset you?" Amy asks. "It's okay if it does."

David doesn't want to think about them at all. They're both gone, they left him, they-- And Dad--

David's heart is tight with grief.

Amy takes the box and puts it down, and then pulls David into her arms and holds him. "I miss him, too," she says, softly. "And Mom. I wish they could be here now, and-- And that we could all be together, as a family.

David gives a sad murmur of agreement, and buries his face against her hair. Amy. Why can't this really be her? He wants it to really be her, he wants-- The real Amy to love him this much.

But the real Amy only loved Divad.

Amy pulls back to look at him. "David, that's not true," she says, hurt but insistent. "When Divad took over-- We didn't know what was actually happening. If we'd had any idea, of course we wouldn't have been happy. It breaks my heart, thinking of you-- In so much pain, trapped inside your body."

David wasn't trapped. He was where he was supposed to be. He wasn't any good at being in charge, all he did was ruin things, that's why Divad had to take over. The monster. That's why the monster had to take over, because-- It knows what's best for him.

"Oh, David," Amy sighs, and holds him close. Then she pulls back and cups his cheek, and gives him the saddest smile.

There's the sound of tape pulling away from cardboard, and they turn to see Lenny and Dvd opening the last boxes.

"Let's see what we got," Lenny says, and looks in one box. "More clothes. Toiletries. Boring!" She slides the box towards Dvd and turns to the next one. "Snacks? You saved a bunch of junk food for a decade?" She snorts. "Of course you did." She eyes it, tempted, but moves on. "This one's books," she says, and then opens the last one. "Aha, jackpot!"

Dvd looks inside. "Oh, our posters! And the string lights."

Lenny dumps out the box and unrolls a poster. "Astronomy. Called it. You guys are so predictable."

Divad picks up the other posters, and Dvd grabs the tangle of lights. "We should put these up," Dvd declares.

"Any pins in there?" Syd asks.

"Try the stationery," Divad says.

Syd grabs the stationery box and looks through it. "Thumbtacks!" she declares, and stands up to help.

As David watches, Divad and Dvd and Syd and Lenny decorate the area around the cots, and it's-- Surreal, seeing these parts of the dorm room become part of the lab. These two separate parts of his life-- Coming together.

"Wow," the other David says, when it's done. He looks at the posters, at the glowing blue lights, and-- He's happy. He smiles and then-- Turns to David. And holds out his hand.

Finally.

As their hands come together, David sighs with relief. He feels-- Loved. A bittersweet sadness, but mostly-- Grateful. Belonging, home, safety. And there's so much love for Dvd and Divad, for Amy and Lenny and Syd.

To the other David, they don't feel like the monster at all.

Because the monster tricked him? Or because--

But if they're not the monster-- But if they're not--

No. No, it can't be true. It just can't. Amahl saved him. Amahl took care of him, Amahl-- Amahl loves him. He wants them to be together, father and son, he wouldn't--

"David," the other David says, and David can feel that-- He's upset. He doesn't feel safe anymore, he's-- Tense and unhappy.

And David realizes-- He did that. He hurt the other David.

David pulls his hand away, stricken, ashamed. Of course he hurt him, he ruins everything, that's what he does. He's such garbage, why would the other David want him back? He's worthless, he's nothing, he should be nothing--

But the other David takes his hand again and grips it tight. And the other David puts his other hand over his heart and concentrates, and-- The love fights its way back.

"Feel this," the other David says, voice strained with effort. "They gave this to us. Amy gave this to us. Because they love us."

David tries to pull away, but-- The more love the other David feels, the less David wants to let go. And then Amy takes David's other hand, and the other David looks to her-- And feels so loved, and loving, and grief and regret.

"Remember how it was-- Before," the other David says, concentrating. "When she was our big sister and--" He smiles. "We followed her everywhere."

"I wanted a baby brother so much," Amy tells David. "And then I got one. And I wanted-- To do what Mom did. To love you so much that-- You'd always feel loved. You used to cry and cry and I was the only one who could make you smile. Do you remember?"

He remembers. He remembers, but-- He's afraid.

"I'm sorry I lied to you before," Amy says, gently. "You were in so much pain, I just-- Wanted to make you smile. Because when you hurt-- I hurt, too. Because I love you, David. I love you."

Tears well up in David's eyes. Through the other David, he can feel himself loving Amy back. Accepting her words as true. Through the other David, everything's going to be okay.

But it's not real. It can't be real. If it's real--

If it's real, then nothing's okay. Nothing's okay because Amahl-- If Amahl is the monster--

"No," David says, and stands up, pulls free of both of them. "No!" He turns to look for somewhere to hide, but Kerry blocks him.

"Hey!" Kerry says, her hands on her hips. "Sit back down!"

David stands there, startled.

"Fine, stand there," Kerry says. "But you're not gonna hide. And if you try, I'm gonna yell at you until you stop."

David's eyes widen with alarm. He knows she would.

"Amahl Farouk's the monster," Kerry says, flatly. "Say it!"

"Kerry," Cary says, concerned. He sets down his notebook.

"He needs to say it," Kerry declares. "Say it!"

"No!" David says, upset. "It's not true!"

Kerry kicks him in the shins-- And it hurts! "Ow!" David hops back, sits down and rubs his shin.

"David, what's going on?" Amy asks, worried.

"It's like the dreams," Cary says, astonished. "Kerry, touch him again-- But don't kick him!"

"Ugh, fine," Kerry says, and punches David in the arm.

"Ow!" David cries, and grabs his arm. "That hurt!"

"Of course!" Cary says. "It's not his body you're touching, it's his astral form." He walks over and rests his hand on David's shoulder. David stares in surprise.

"David?" Divad says. "Talk to us. Is it Cary and Kerry? What's wrong?"

"They're-- Kerry kicked me!" David says, annoyed.

"They can touch?" Divad says, astonished. "Amy, were you able to touch Lenny?"

"She kinda was," Lenny says, surprised. "I mean, I thought it was a dream, but--"

"Kerry, apologize for hurting David," Amy insists.

Kerry rolls her eyes.

"Kerry," Cary warns.

"Fine," Kerry whines. "I'm sorry for kicking you, even though you deserved it."

"Kerry!" Cary protests.

"Well he does!" Kerry says, upset. "Just cause I can't hear his thoughts doesn't mean I don't know what he's thinking. He wants to go back to Farouk."

"That's hardly surprising," Cary says.

"It's messed up," Kerry insists. "It's gross."

"That's very unhelpful," Cary says. "We saw what their relationship was like, in the dreams. David was dependent on Farouk. He was-- In a sense, he was inside him. You know what it's like to be inside someone."

"You're not like Farouk," Kerry says, upset.

"Thankfully no," Cary says. "But the situation is similar enough for you to understand it. To have empathy for David's emotional state."

"I guess," Kerry sighs. "It's just-- It's not fair that we're stuck here, and he doesn't even relay right."

"When we're sick, even simple requests can feel enormous," Cary says. He sits down next to David. "I didn't think to see if we could touch. But we can." He holds out his hand, and David cautiously takes it. It feels solid, real.

David is tired of things feeling real when they can't be real. He's tired of feeling pulled in two different directions. Everything with Amahl was simple and calm and-- It all made sense. Things were right.

"David," the other David says, and David looks up to see him standing there. "Did everything-- Make sense to you, when we were in college?"

"Yes," David sighs. He just wants to go back. He wants to go back but-- College is here, now. It's in these boxes, it's on the walls, it's-- It's the other David's sweatshirt.

The other David looks down at the sweatshirt, then pulls it off and offers it.

"Go on," Cary encourages.

David takes the sweatshirt. He looks at it, then-- Smells it. It smells musty, but-- Familiar. It smells like home. He holds it against his chest mournfully.

"You miss college, right?" the other David says. "While we were there, everything was calm. The monster was calm. Divad and Dvd were-- Mostly happy. I remember-- Being alone. Screwing up. But for you, this was-- When we were happy."

David gives a sad nod.

The other David goes to sit down in Cary's seat, and Cary quickly moves out of the way. "Did you miss college, when you were with Amahl?" the other David asks.

David nods again.

"Did you want to be back with your system?" the other David asks.

David nods, and-- All that pent-up longing he felt in Amahl's lab-- Somehow it breaks free. He missed them so much, he hurt every day from how much he missed them. And he was so confused and scared and it was all his fault even though he didn't know how and he just-- He just wanted them back.

For months and months he wanted them back. But he was alone.

"You were alone?" the other David asks. "Even with Amahl?"

"It wasn't the same," David sniffs, voice shaky. Amahl's an outside person. No matter how close they get, they can't ever really be a system together. Not like--

He looks at Dvd and Divad. "But you're not the same. Everything's wrong. Why can't we just--" He looks at them imploringly.

"Go back to how we were?" Divad finishes.

David nods.

"Me being in charge," Divad continues. "You and Dvd inside. Dvd taking care of you?"

David nods.

"We were like that for a long time," Divad admits. "And being with Amahl-- He made it like that, right? He was in charge. He took care of you. And you were just-- Inside, with him."

David nods, relieved they finally understand. "I don't care who's the monster," he tells them. "I just want-- Can't we have that?"

"But I hurt you," Divad says. "I was cruel to you, I-- I tortured you, David. Just so I could stay in charge."

"That's okay," David says.

"It's not," Divad insists. "It's not okay, David. It's-- It was wrong. You should never be treated that way by anyone. Not your system, not the monster, not anyone. And it wasn't good for me or Dvd."

That just makes David feel worse. "It's how we work," he insists, gripping the sweatshirt tightly.

"It's not how we work anymore," Divad says. "We don't hurt our system anymore, David. We don't hurt ourselves and we don't hurt each other."

"You're hurting me now!" David says, angry. "You're not the monster! The monster wouldn't do this to me."

Divad gives a strained laugh. "David, listen to yourself."

"Amahl told me," David says, certain. "He said the monster took care of me. It gave me what I needed."

"Of course he said that, he's the monster," Divad says. "He told you what he wants you to believe."

"Maybe I want to believe it," David says, sourly.

“So you’re taking the monster’s side now?” Divad says, voice high with disbelief.

David huffs angrily, crosses his arms.

“Wait, wait,” Dvd says. “You’re taking the monster’s side— Against us?” He breaks into a grin. “Then you admit we’re not the monster!”

David scowls at him, not sure at all how they got to this.

“Ad. Mit. It,” Dvd says, smugly.

David sputters and huffs and just— He just—

“David,” the other David says. He puts a hand on David’s shoulder and looks him directly in the eyes. “It’s safe, okay? I promise, it’s safe.”

David gives him a very uncertain look back.

Maybe they’re not the monster but— What if they are? What if they are and this is the trick? He believed them before and they were lying. And it’s not safe, it’s not safe, the other David admitted that the monster is still trying to hurt them. What if this is how it hurts them, what if—

“Please,” David begs, quiet but heartfelt. “Please, I just— I don’t want to make it mad.”

“I know,” the other David says, gently. “I know, but. We’re stronger than him, okay? We really are. When we help each other, when we work together— He made us think we had to hurt each other and ourselves but he was lying to us. The monster has been lying to us about so much for so long—“

The other David pauses, swallows. “You’re right, we’re not safe. Not if safe means— Being hidden away from the world, like— Like boxes in an attic. Until a few months ago, I thought— I deserved to be a prisoner. Just like you. But we were just believing what the monster wanted us to believe. And we don’t— We don’t have to do what he wants. We can say no. We have to say no, so— So we can stop him once and for all.”

“Stop him?” David echoes, surprised.

“Yes,” the other David says, with a sudden smile. “We’re going to stop him. And then he’ll never trick us or hurt us ever again.”

David just shakes his head. “We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because— It’s the monster,” David says, because he can’t explain it any other way. The monster’s been unstoppable for so long— The only thing that ever made it stop was— Giving up. Giving it what it wanted. Giving it everything.

“Everything wasn’t enough for him,” the other David says, certain. “That's why he made me. That’s why— He made you.”

David doesn't know what to say to that.

The other David looks pensive, then-- "You know, Divad wants to go back to college. He didn't get to finish his degree, so-- When the monster's gone, he's going. Maybe-- You could go with him. Audit a few classes."

"I never understood anything they talked about," David admits.

"Yeah, neither did I," the other David admits. "But the point is-- If it makes you happy to-- Be inside, be with Divad in college-- You can do that. You can choose to do it because it makes you happy, not because-- It's the only way you know how to survive. Doesn't that sound better?"

David doesn't know what to say to that either. All he's ever known is survival, and-- He didn't even do that very well.

"You don't have to decide anything now," the other David says. "We're all still figuring out what we want. But that's okay, because-- Figuring out is part of the fun. Having the freedom to choose. You know who taught me that? Lenny and Dvd. I needed someone to teach me because I didn't know how to do it either. And it sounded so scary. Wanting anything. Even just-- A chocolate bar. Because what if it was the wrong choice? What if it ruined everything and-- And then that was my fault? I know you know how that feels, because we're the same person."

The other David gives him an expectant look. David nods.

"I'm sorry," the other David says, wryly. "When I was where you are, everyone kept talking at me all the time, and I didn't understand any of it. But I knew that-- They cared about me. They needed me to just-- Keep putting one foot in front of the other, even if it felt like walking in circles. So now it's my turn to show you-- I care about you. And I need you to just-- Keep putting one foot in front of the other."

"But I'm not," David protests. He hasn't done anything.

"I know you can't see it yet," the other David says. "But you've already come so far. You're so strong and brave and you're doing amazing and I'm so proud of you."

More kindness. David still doesn't know what to do with it. It doesn't feel real. Kerry and Cary feel more real than kindness.

"It'll feel real," the other David promises. "It'll feel-- Like this." And he offers his hand.

David takes it, and--

It hurts, all the love in the other David. It hurts but he needs it with a-- A bone-deep craving. He feels like he'd do anything if he could just-- Get another hit.

"Ohh, catch that buzz, love is the drug I'm thinking of," Lenny sings. "Ohh, can't you see? Love is the drug for me." And then she does an air drum riff.

Amy laughs behind her hand, and the tension in the room breaks.

The other David chuckles. "Lenny--"

"C'mon, someone had to say it," Lenny says, smugly.

The other David shakes his head. He turns back to David. "You know, if you want to feel love-- That coffee date with Dvd is coming up."

Dvd straightens up.

"I need your help with that," the other David continues. "So I can feel how-- You feel about him. But if you're determined to think Dvd is the monster, then-- Maybe it needs to wait."

"No," David says, quickly. He looks at Dvd. He's still not sure, but-- Somehow it's-- A little harder to believe they're all masks. He doesn't want them to be masks, he's just-- It just doesn't feel safe to-- Believe they're not.

But if he can-- If going along with all this means-- He can get what he wants-- If it means they'll let him be inside and take care of him again, then-- It probably won't hurt to just-- Pretend they're real. The monster will know he's just pretending, so it won't be-- It won't be mad. He hopes.

The other David reaches for the sweatshirt and gently takes it. Then he shakes it out and pulls it over David's head, careful of the crown, and tugs it down.

Chapter 177: Day 14: She remembers being Melanie Bird. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

Melanie walks back into the lab and stops, startled. This isn't Amahl's lab, she knows that, but it's so similar and-- She's used to it always staying basically the same, day after day after day.

Amahl's lab certainly never looked like a college dorm room.

It's not just the posters on the walls and the string lights. It's the notebooks and textbooks and desk supplies filling the work area. It's the people lounging on the beds, clothes and snacks and toys strewn around them, and David sitting in the middle of it all, wearing his college sweatshirt, holding a framed photo and looking-- Quietly happy.

David looks up and sees Melanie.

"Go on," Ptonomy urges. "We'll be over there." He heads for the sitting area, and Oliver and Clark follow him. Divad stands and heads over to join them, pausing only to wave for the other David to come with him.

Amy gestures for Melanie to take Divad's spot, with David between them. Lenny takes the other David's spot between Syd and Dvd.

"What do you think?" Amy asks her, gesturing at the room.

"It's-- Different," Melanie says. Not like Amahl's lab at all. And that annoys her, like how-- It annoyed her that Syd wanted to eat something else at lunch. David should only want what Amahl wants. But she holds back from saying it this time. They all seem so happy.

She notices the photo albums. Amy and Syd have albums open on their laps, displaying family photos. She recognizes David's father in one of them, and realizes the children in the photos are Amy and David.

The framed photo David is holding is also of Amy and David, as young adults. Melanie fights the urge to yank the photos away and destroy them. Even if she's angry at Amy, and she's so angry-- She wouldn't do something so cruel.

"Melanie?" Syd prompts. "How did your session go? Did you remember anything else?"

"Yes," Melanie says, though she's still not sure if any of these 'recovered' memories are genuine. "Some things related to-- The rescue." She hesitates, then turns to David. "David, the-- Invisible people you see. Cary and Kerry? You still see them?"

David nods. "They were on that bed, but-- Now they're over there."

He points at an empty loveseat. Melanie tries to imagine Cary there, to see him-- Enthusiastic and engaged. Stumbling over his words as he tries to keep up with his racing thoughts. It makes her feel-- A deep, familiar fondness.

She keeps-- Trying to make sense of all this. To figure out what the Divisions are trying to achieve, or if-- It's the monster behind it, as David believes. But the more she learns, the more she wonders-- What if the story is true? What if it is?

If she could see Cary's astral form, talk to him-- Would that be proof? Would it be enough?

"I remember Cary," Melanie says, turning back to them. "Just-- Moments, feelings, but--"

"Melanie, that's wonderful," Amy says, smiling.

Melanie stares at her, feeling another surge of that overwhelming anger. She's starting to realize that-- Her anger at Amy is like her fondness for Cary: a feeling that isn't fully anchored, that's out of proportion. She cares about David, of course she does, but that's no reason for her to feel this-- Intimate rage. Especially if-- The Amy she met that day wasn't actually Amy at all.

And if it wasn't her, then-- If the story is true-- That unanchored anger, the experiential and emotional associations of that moment-- Need to be redirected to where they belong. To David's monster.

But David's monster is not Amahl Farouk, she refuses to accept that no matter what she remembers. It must have just been-- Pretending to be Amahl, like it pretended to be Amy. That's the only way this makes sense.

Yes. Their evil Amahl was just a mask, a trick. She feels better, realizing that. They made a mistake, like she did with Amy. And when they realize the truth, they'll feel terrible, just like she does.

"Amy," Melanie says, mustering her courage. "I want to-- Apologize for hitting you."

"Oh!" Amy says, surprised.

"Obviously I-- Believed I was doing the right thing at the time," Melanie defends. "But I see now that-- You care about David very much." She couldn't help but see it, watching the videos, seeing them together now.

"I do," Amy says, genuinely.

David's expression softens. Amy turns to him and smiles lovingly, and he gives a wobbly smile back.

Melanie can't look at this-- Tenderness-- And reconcile it with the loathing Amy displayed towards David during her visit. She simply can't believe that they're the same person.

She knows how the mind seeks patterns in the chaos of reality, desperate for certainty. But this is like looking at an optical illusion of a vase and two profiles and never quite landing on either. Because both are true? Neither?

"David," Melanie says. "That photo. Can you-- Tell me about it?"

"This?" David asks, surprised but pleased. He turns it to face her, but seems reluctant to actually hand it over. "It's um-- Us and Amy. When she helped us move in, freshman year."

"I was so proud of all of you," Amy says, warmly.

"You look very happy," Melanie says, and they do. In the photo and right now. Somehow, while she was gone-- Going through all of David's belongings-- Helped him. She realizes-- "In Amahl's lab-- You didn't have any-- Personal belongings?"

Even though she asks it, she knows he didn't. She didn't have anything either. And that didn't bother her at the time, but-- It does now.

David shakes his head. "I guess-- The only thing that mattered was-- Amahl's work."

Melanie thinks about David's suicide attempt. His terrible state of mind when she arrived-- Amahl needed her to help him become-- Stable. To keep him from hurting himself, to help him-- Open up. But she knows about patient recovery. Isolation from family, from personal belongings, would be counterproductive. She knows that. Why didn't she know it then? Why didn't she say anything to Amahl?

And then she wonders about-- David not remembering her comforting him. And feels-- Not relief, but-- Terror. For David, for herself--

A flash of memory suddenly catches her. Terror. Her hand caught in a book, overwhelming pain--

"Melanie?" Syd says, worried.

Melanie shakes it off. She flexes the hand that was hurt in the memory, rubs it. "It's nothing." She focuses on David again. "David, you said-- The photo was 'us and Amy.' You mean-- You and your system?"

David gives Dvd an uncertain glance, but nods.

"Then you believe that-- Amahl was wrong," Melanie says. "That you did have a system, that it wasn't-- The monster's masks?"

"I--" David starts, and his happiness fades. Melanie feels bad, seeing that, but she needs to know. "Maybe? I don't--" He gives her a helpless look.

"Shh, it's okay," Amy soothes, and rubs his back. She gives Melanie a disapproving glance, but it's nothing compared to the daggers being stared by Dvd.

Dvd. Since they brought her here, she hasn't quite had time to process-- Dvd and Divad being here. What that means, how it's even possible that they're-- Sitting here in this room with her and David.

Obviously she knows what the story says, and she has decades of experience with mutant powers. Given David's-- Supposed extensive psychic abilities, it makes complete sense that his alters would be able to manifest separately from their body. If this is all real, of course.

"Dvd," Melanie says, in a calm, therapist tone. "If it's all right, I'd like to speak with you alone."

Dvd exchanges looks with everyone else, including David. Then without a word he stands up and walks over to the table. He sits down, crosses his arms, and gives her an expectant look.

All right, then. She stands and follows him over, and after a pause at the circle of chairs, chooses to sit directly next to him. She won't be cowed.

"My husband believed you were a mask," she says, plainly, because she can tell that Dvd likes directness. "And it made sense. There was no other reason for your and Divad's absence after the surgery. Obviously if-- What I've been told is true then-- There is an alternate explanation."

"Yeah, that you were played, lady," Dvd says, not hiding his anger at all.

"You weren't-- Removed," Melanie continues. "David was."

Dvd just stares at her.

Melanie considers the Amy mask, and-- Realizes that if this is real, then Amy isn't the only one she's hurt. Whether Dvd is genuinely an alter or not-- She'd prefer to err on the side of doing the right thing.

"In the-- Life I remember--" she starts. "It was important to me to help identities come to terms with their systems, to help them-- Stop being afraid. But it seems I was tricked into doing the opposite. I hurt your relationship with David, and for that I'm genuinely sorry."

Dvd's anger fades somewhat, though it's clear he won't be quick to forgive. "You should be."

"I am," Melanie says. "I am sorry, Dvd. And I'll do whatever I can to help heal that wound. If you'll let me."

Dvd gives her a narrow-eyed look. "I don't trust you."

"You have every reason not to," Melanie accepts. "I've started to realize that-- How David was treated in our lab-- Something wasn't right." She puts up a hand. "Not that Amahl was-- He's not David's monster. But perhaps-- We were all affected by it from the start."

She turns away from Dvd's disbelieving expression, and sees David watching her. Uncertain, needing, in so much pain. She remembers arriving in the lab and feeling-- That she had to help him, she had to. But she helped him for months and months, and-- What good did she do? How is he any better, except for-- What these people have done for him in barely any time at all?

She recalls David's course of treatment. Amahl's medication, her talk work. A healthy, regular diet, plenty of sleep, time in soothing nature. David was always so fragile, it was hard to-- Get traction with his recovery. And he was always turning to Amahl for comfort, for solace. Unorthodox, perhaps-- Inappropriate, but-- David doesn't have any family left to care about him.

Except apparently he does.

She turns back to Dvd and meets his eyes. Even without her powers, she can tell a lot about a person just from looking them in the eyes.

"I was told-- Many things about your relationship with David," she says, finally. "That your system was-- Abusive, self-abusive. That David was-- Trapped inside your body, and-- That you emotionally manipulated him. How much of that was true?"

Dvd's expression holds, but there's guilt and horror in his eyes. "All of it," he admits, tightly.

"And Divad's emotional abuse?" Melanie asks.

Dvd gives a short nod.

"It's typical for abusers to deny the pain they cause," Melanie says. "To lash out with defensive anger, to-- Insist that they're hurting the victim for their own good."

The pain in Dvd's eyes grows. He's trying to hold it back, but-- She sees the grief, the shine of tears. She wishes she could hear his thoughts, feel his emotions, but--

It's one thing to read about all this, or even to watch video recordings. To sit with Amy, with Dvd, and talk with them--

"But you've been doing the work," Melanie says, lighter. "This-- Foundation work."

"Yeah," Dvd says, with clear relief. He takes a breath, steadies himself. "Our system's-- We worked out some-- Ideas. We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. If we love each other and work together, the pain will stop." It seems to help him, to say that.

"And David came up with that?" Melanie asks. "The idea of-- Foundational words?"

"Yeah," Dvd says, with quiet pride. He looks over at the sitting area, where the other David is focused on Divad and Oliver and Ptonomy.

In the infirmary, Melanie sat and watched videos of Cary, of Cary helping the other David, of Cary with everyone here. And all that felt strangely familiar, even though she couldn't have any actual memories of those moments, because apparently her body was frozen and her soul was-- Captive. But it still-- Tickled something, in her mind. Cary and David and-- Ptonomy?

She has a sudden image of Ptonomy, but-- Younger. Eager for-- A place to belong, a home, a purpose. She sees him offering his hand and saying he wants to help.

She tries to shake it off, to focus on the present. But the image lingers.

"You okay?" Dvd asks.

"I don't know," Melanie admits. "I don't know-- Who I am."

"Well, you're in the right place for that," Dvd says, wryly. "They get you started on your foundation yet?"

Melanie shakes her head.

"They will," Dvd says, certain. "Look, me and Divad-- We fucked up. But we never wanted to hurt David or ourselves, we just-- We had a monster in our head and it fucked us. It fucked you, it fucked everyone."

Melanie wants to say that she hopes he doesn't mean that literally-- But after what David said earlier, about Syd--

Her stomach knots, thinking about that. About how innocently he talked about it, and how-- He sees all of them as complicit. It's sick, it makes her sick.

She doesn't want the story to be real. If it's real-- God, if it's real--

Dvd stands up, suddenly. He gestures at everyone sitting on the beds. "C'mon, they're ready." He heads for the sitting area, and gestures for Melanie to follow.

Everyone settles in. David and the other David are guided to sit between Oliver and Divad. Dvd and Syd take the other loveseat, and Melanie and Amy sit with Clark and Ptonomy. Lenny takes the chair between Dvd and Divad.

"We think we have a way to help Cary and Kerry," Ptonomy begins, addressing David. "But we need your help.

David grips at the framed photo and looks at the empty loveseat where Cary and Kerry are supposed to be sitting. He listens to something, then turns to Oliver.

"It won't hurt at all," Oliver promises. "Though it might-- Feel a bit strange."

"What, uh-- What do I do?" David asks.

"Take my hand," the other David says, and offers his hand. David takes it gladly, and-- The moment he does, he eases and the other David tenses.

"Cary, Kerry, please sit here," Oliver says, and points to the coffee table. "We need to complete the circle. Rather like a seance," he adds, amused.

David puts the photo on his lap and joins hands with Oliver. Oliver and the other David hold out their hands for Kerry and Cary. Oliver and the other David close their eyes in concentration, and then David copies them.

"We're trying to-- Bring Cary and Kerry down to our level of the astral plane," Ptonomy explains. "The reverse of what David did with the notebooks he sent to Cary. But in this case, we have to-- Do it through the connection they have to David's soul."

Just then, both Davids and Oliver straighten, tense. Their brows furrow with concentration. Long minutes pass, and Melanie shifts impatiently. And then--

"There!" Divad says, excited. "I see them!"

Melanie sees-- Something. The faintest shapes, and then-- They fade into view. And her breath catches.

"Cary?" Melanie calls, hesitant, hopeful. She's compelled to reach for him by such a strong feeling, she can't explain it. But the thought of seeing him again makes her heart swell with-- Relief and happiness, even though-- She's never actually met him.

"--it working?" Kerry asks.

"It's working," Divad answers, grinning. "Kerry, I can see you!"

"You can hear me? Finally!" Kerry says, grinning, too. "You have no idea how awful it's been."

"Being trapped inside of David?" Dvd answers. "I think we've got an idea."

"Oh yeah," Kerry says, a little chagrined. "Can we let go now?"

"Not yet," Oliver says, his voice strained with effort. "Now bring our hands together," he says.

They do, and then-- Oliver takes Cary's hands, and the other David takes Kerry's, releasing David. And then-- Kerry and Cary seem to glow, faintly, before Oliver and the other David let them go.

"You're still just astral forms," Divad explains to Kerry and Cary. "So you're a little see-through, and you can't touch anything. But we can see and hear you."

"Oliver, David, Divad and-- David-- Thank you so much," Cary says, grateful.

"We sort of-- Charged you up," the other David explains. "Not sure how long it'll last, but-- You should be good for a while." He cracks a smile. "Welcome back."

"I think someone is eager to talk to you," Oliver says, and gestures for Cary to turn around.

And he does.

"Cary?" Melanie says, uncertain and confused and needing.

"Melanie," Cary says, smiling, relieved, worried, hopeful. "I've been watching, I was-- I was so worried, you-- Do you remember me?"

"I think so," Melanie says, a tremble in her voice. "I don't know how I can remember a person I never met, but--"

"Well, we've met now," Cary says, lightly. He reaches for her, but realizes he can't touch and takes his hand back.

Melanie stares at him, and it feels like-- Seeing him now-- Awake and alive and-- His soul-- Is bringing something together. Like-- Looking at him, being with him-- Helps her feel more like herself. Helps her feel like-- Melanie Bird.

Melanie Bird. She remembers being Melanie Bird.

"Oh my god," she whispers, and puts her hand over her mouth.

Cary leans forward, concerned. "Melanie? Can I-- If there's anything I can do--"

Melanie shakes her head, but she keeps looking at Cary, and the feeling grows. She remembers-- Long nights and-- Joys and failures and-- Summerland. She remembers running Summerland with Cary.

But she still remembers being Melanie Farouk. And both lives are-- Fragments. Incomplete.

But Melanie Bird doesn't feel like a story anymore. It's her life.

She leans back, giving a breathy laugh of relief. "You're real," she says, grinning.

Cary looks down at himself, then back up. "All things considered-- I'm very relieved to hear it." He smiles, then reaches up and adjusts his glasses.

It's such a little thing, a simple gesture, but-- She knows it. She absolutely knows it.

She looks around at everyone. She looks at David and-- The other David. She remembers the beach, taking his hand. She remembers-- Cary's frustration with-- Memory. Ptonomy. Memory. An apartment, a house, a book-- Her hand--

She grips at her hand, remembering the shock of pain, the horror of-- Mutilation. A man crumpled up like paper, horror, disgust, blood--

And she looks at Lenny. "You," she breathes, afraid. "It was you. You're David's monster."

"The fuck I am," Lenny says, angrily.

"You killed that man," Melanie continues. What man? Did she know him? She feels like she knew him.

"Lenny was just a mask, like Amy," Ptonomy soothes. "She's not the monster."

"I remember her," Melanie insists. She leans back, trying to process this-- Sudden burst of memories. She rubs at her head. God, her head hurts.

"Melanie," Cary says, concerned. "Perhaps we should-- Oh dear, this is-- Oliver, when your memories came back-- I wish I'd been there for that--"

"Let's give her some space," Amy says. She stands up and ushers Clark and Ptonomy off the sofa, then helps Melanie lie down.

"My head," Melanie groans.

"May I?" Oliver says, and Amy steps aside. He sits on the coffee table and gives Melanie a sympathetic look. "It's surprisingly painful, remembering-- A lifetime."

He offers his hand, but she doesn't take it. She doesn't know him, even if-- There were flashes-- She doesn't know him, she doesn't--

He reaches up and brushes her hair back from her forehead. She feels the touch of his calloused fingers, and then-- The brush of his mind against her own.

Grief surges in her chest, her throat, her belly. So much grief, heartbreak, anger. She sobs.

"I'm sorry," Oliver says, softly. "I'm so sorry, my love."

He offers his hand again, and this time-- She takes it.

Chapter 178: Day 14: Matching frequencies. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

"Cary," Melanie murmurs. Her face is all crumpled up with pain but she keeps opening her eyes to look at Cary, over and over. Sometimes she looks at Oliver or Ptonomy, but mostly it's Cary.

She never looks at Kerry. Kerry might as well still be invisible for all Melanie cares. It doesn't matter that Kerry was there for those stupid memories, too. She was just-- Inside Cary, most of the time. So Melanie didn't see her. Melanie probably forgot she was there at all.

Kerry never cared about that when she was inside Cary. Outside things like Melanie were Cary's, not hers, even if-- Even if she wanted them to be hers, too.

Kerry walks away. She wonders if she can leave the lab now. She and Cary have been stuck with Past David, just like Dvd and Divad were stuck with David when the crown was on them. Past David is the worst, she hates him. She should kick him in the shins again. Kicking Dvd in the shins stopped David from being invisible and kicking Past David stopped her and Cary from being invisible. It gets things done.

She turns back. Past David is still sitting across from Melanie, staring at her and looking stupid and sad. She thought David was useless but Past David is worse than useless.

She looks up at the empty loft. They put all this stuff back in the lab, but they didn't put her stuff back. Maybe they all forgot about her, just like Melanie. She was invisible again and now--

"Kerry?" Amy says. She sounds all concerned. But she's probably just worried about Melanie and Cary.

"What?" Kerry asks, sharply.

Amy hesitates, then eases. "I'm really glad you're okay."

Kerry scowls. She's not okay, she doesn't have a body because stupid Past David stole it. "I need my stuff."

"Your stuff?" Amy asks.

"My exercise stuff," Kerry says, even though it should be obvious. They cluttered up the lab with all of stupid Past David's stuff but they didn't even think about her stuff. Of course they didn't.

"Oh, of course," Amy says. "We were-- Well, we were waiting for you for that. Would you like David to move all of it to the astral plane for you?"

"No," Kerry says, even though she wants that. "I just want it back in the loft." This lab was hers and Cary's before all this therapy stuff started. It was just theirs and now it's not theirs at all. They filled it up with everyone else's stuff but not hers or Cary's.

Amy gives her a look that reminds her of-- When they went shopping for new clothes. "Kerry, are you-- You and Cary have been through a lot. Are you feeling overwhelmed?"

"I'm fine," Kerry insists, even though she's not. "I just need my stuff and-- And for everyone to leave me alone."

"Okay," Amy soothes. "How about we take care of it now? Get everything back up there?"

"Fine," Kerry sighs, and crosses her arms to show that she's done talking.

Amy hesitates, then walks over to Clark. Clark gives one of his long-suffering looks, but the two of them leave the lab together. And then just when Kerry's finally as alone as it's possible for her to be, Dvd walks over.

"Hey," Dvd says, casually.

Kerry gives an annoyed grunt.

Dvd seems to get it. He stands next to her and watches everyone else with her for a quiet minute. And then-- He lightly elbows her, and-- His arm bumps hers.

She stares at him, shocked.

"Astral projection," Dvd says, pointing at himself. He points at her. "Astral projection."

"But--" Kerry starts.

"Matching frequencies," Dvd explains. "David can hear you, too. You know." He gestures at his head. "And Oliver."

"Oh," Kerry says, and isn't sure how she feels about that. The mind reading. Good, because-- She hated being so cut off. But not good, because--

She feels stuck, and when she feels stuck-- She thinks about the emotion wheel. She looked at it a lot until-- She couldn't look at it because she couldn't do anything. But she doesn't feel like looking at it now that-- She could ask for it and someone would actually give her what she needs.

"You know, uh, I was thinking-- Now that you're back, you can teach me some moves," Dvd says.

"You've got telekinesis," Kerry grumps.

"Yeah, and what if we lose our powers again?" Dvd says. "The Choke, the crown-- I gotta be prepared."

Kerry frowns. "It doesn't matter if you're prepared."

"You were asleep," Dvd defends.

Kerry just gives him a look. Dvd gets it, again, and backs down.

It's-- Kind of nice, having someone who gets her, who's-- On her wavelength.

Dvd quirks a smile. He must have heard that.

Amy and Clark return, along with a few Division 3 staff, and they carry in Kerry's equipment. David and Lenny join in, and David teleports the heaviest items up to the loft.

"How would you like everything set up?" Amy asks. "The same as before?"

"Yes," Kerry says, firmly. She just wants it to be the same.

She watches them set up the equipment, and directs them when she needs to. The awfulness she was feeling starts to ease. She still needs to hit something, but-- She'd rather hit her punching bag than Past David.

She didn't really want to kick him again anyway. She hates making David more sad when he's already too sad. Even if he is the wrong David.

"He's not the wrong David," Dvd says, annoyed.

"Yes he is," Kerry insists.

"You realize I will actually fight you on this," Dvd says, with a warning tone.

"I'd like to see you try," Kerry challenges. "Without your powers."

Dvd narrows his eyes at her, then he smirks. "You guys might wanna get back," he warns the others.

"Yo, we'll be fine if you drop the telekinesis," Lenny points out. "Well, except David."

David steps back into a far corner. Lenny and Amy each stand to one side of him.

Clark hesitates, glances at the stairs, then goes to stand next to Amy. "Should be interesting," he mutters, and leans back against the wall.

Kerry gets into position and then so does Dvd. She can already see he has no idea what he's doing. His stance is so sloppy.

Dvd frowns and tries to make his stance more like hers. She just smirks at him.

She crooks her finger, gesturing for him to attack. He lunges at her, and as soon as he reaches her, she wraps her arms around his waist, yanks him by the hips, and slams him to the floor. She lands on him with only a mild blow to the stomach, knocking the air out of him.

Dvd lies on the ground, stunned and gasping. Then he grins. And then she grins.

She stands and offers her hand, and pulls him up. They get back into starting stances. This time she attacks, and Dvd grabs her by the middle, trying to copy her and take her down. She gets his legs out from under him and then he's down.

"Damn it," Dvd mutters, frustrated. But once she gets off him, he's right back up again. "Teach me something so I can kick your ass."

Clark snorts, amused.

"You're never gonna kick my ass," Kerry promises. "But fine. How 'bout I just teach you how to stay on your feet?"

Dvd flushes, embarrassed. "Fine. How?"

Kerry smirks. "It's about composure," she says, and adjusts her stance. Dvd copies her, badly. "Widen your feet and lower your body," she tells him, and he tries to match her. But he's still not getting it right. She huffs and walks over, and Dvd braces for attack before he realizes she's just looking.

"Widen your feet," Kerry says again, and when Dvd does, she grabs his legs and corrects them. "Now lower your body." Again, she has to physically adjust him.

"Feels weird," Dvd mutters.

"That's cause your muscles are learning," Kerry tells him. "Your muscle memory's all wrong, right? So you gotta teach it."

The last time Kerry taught anyone, it was all those kids that Division 3 hired because of the chattering virus. And mostly she just taught them how to not die. She was really glad that once the monk was dead, the kids were all sent home. Even though she misses them a little.

"If you wanna stay up, you gotta be solid," Kerry explains. "But you can't like, be stuck in one place. You gotta keep moving so you're harder to catch."

"Solid but moving," Dvd says, concentrating.

"Tighten your stomach," she says, touching him to guide his body. After walking through furniture all day, it feels good to touch. "Back straight, shoulders back. Butt back and chest forward. Now raise your arms."

Dvd grunts as holds the new position. She can tell he's not used to all this. Even though he's got plenty of strength, his muscles are starting to tremble.

"You're gonna need strength training," Kerry tells him. "And lots of practice."

Dvd gives an offended huff. "I can do this!"

"Sure you can," Kerry says. "With a lot of training. I train all the time! I have to. When-- When I was inside Cary, my body just rested. So when I was outside I worked hard to keep it in shape."

She pauses, remembering-- Four hours. Cary said she only spent an average of four hours a day outside of him. And most of that was spent training. Martial arts classes, one-on-one, but then-- Just on her own. Because she stayed young while everyone else got old.

And now she's always outside. Now she's-- On everyone's wavelength. Or she will be once she gets her body back.

Her body. Not Cary's, not their body, her body. Maybe it's selfish to think that, but-- Cary always thought of his body as just his.

She shakes it off and focuses on Dvd. She has him get in and out of position a few times so they can start training his muscles. Except he's an astral projection so they're actually just training his mind.

"I think you should be in your system's body for this," Kerry says.

"Divad needs it," Dvd says.

"Yeah, but if you guys don't have powers, you won't have telekinesis," Kerry reminds him. "You'll just be a ghost." Like her. Like Cary. She hopes they're gonna be able to fix Cary's body. She's just started to feel like her body is hers, she doesn't wanna have to share it all the time. It's not fair.

"Yeah, and if I'm embodied you can't touch me," Dvd reminds her.

"Good point," Kerry admits. "Okay, when we both have bodies again we'll train with our bodies."

"Great," Dvd says, with an edge of impatience. "So I know how to stand. Now what?"

"Now I'm gonna teach you how to block," Kerry says.

"What I want to do is attack," Dvd reminds her.

"Yeah, but you're not gonna win a fight right away."

"That's always how I win fights," Dvd says, puffing up with pride. "I take em down hard and they don't even touch us."

Kerry just gives him a look.

"Ugh, fine," Dvd groans. "Show me the stupid block."

Kerry remembers something one of her teachers told her, over and over. It annoyed her, then, but now-- "Fighting's not about hurting people, you know."

Dvd gives her a completely disbelieving look. "Of course it is!"

"No, it's not," Kerry insists. "It's about-- Stopping violence, so nobody gets more hurt than they have to."

"You sure didn't mind hurting all those safe-heads in the desert," Dvd accuses.

"They attacked me," Kerry defends. "Someone attacks me, I'm gonna stop them."

"Exactly!" Dvd says.

"But it's about keeping people safe, right?" Kerry presses, feeling like she's working through it for herself, too. "Our systems and-- Our friends. Even if-- Fighting and winning feels good-- It's not everything. And we can't have the other stuff if all we do is fight."

Dvd gives her a skeptical look, but-- He seems to be thinking about it.

She's thinking about it, too. And four hours, and-- All the hours.

"David," she says, turning to him. "I changed my mind. About the equipment. Can you--?"

"Sure," David says. He steps forward and concentrates. Everyone waits, and when he's done, nothing seems to have changed. And then he steps over to the punching bag and pushes it. And the bag stays still, but it also rocks back and forth.

"Weird," Kerry says, walking up to it. She catches the bag and shoves it. The bag moves and doesn't move.

"I made astral copies of everything," David explains. "So it'll all still be here when you get your body back."

Kerry walks over to David and gives him a big hug.

"Oh," David breathes, softly surprised, and hugs her back.

Kerry doesn't let him go. "I'm sorry I kicked the other you," she says. "I'm sorry I-- Thought mean things about you."

"It's okay," David says. "I'm sorry too. About-- Everything."

She lets him go to look at him. "It's not your fault."

"I know," David says, but he doesn't look like he believes it. "We'll fix it," he promises.

"Yeah, of course we're gonna fix it," Kerry says, confident. "And we're gonna kick Farouk's ass so hard he'll never hurt anyone again, right?"

David cracks a smile. "Absolutely."

Kerry looks at him, then looks at Dvd. They're in the same physical shape, obviously. Though maybe not obviously, since she and Cary aren't the same in-- Any way at all.

"You're gonna train, too," she declares.

"I am?" David says, uncertain.

"Yes," Kerry tells him. "You wanna be able to defend yourself, right?"

"Well, yeah, I mean--" David starts. He looks at Dvd for help.

Dvd walks up and looks David over, considering. "You know what? Yeah. No more defenseless David, got it?"

David huffs, clearly trying to figure a way out of this, then surrenders. "Got it," he sighs.

"It'll be fun," Dvd says, and puts an arm across David's shoulders. "We'll kick Kerry's ass together."

"In your dreams," Kerry says. Then she remembers Past David's dreams and thinks-- Maybe not there, either.

"His dreams?" David asks, and lowers his voice. "Sorry, I just-- You saw my-- His dreams?"

"We were stuck in them all night," Kerry grimaces. "They were awful."

"What happened?" David asks, with a mix of-- Fear and need. He looks at Kerry with a kind of-- Mesmerizingly bleak curiosity.

Lenny intervenes. "Hey, how about-- We get Cary and Kerry to write all that down, and then we can go over it later?"

"Yeah, this is training time, right?" Dvd says. "C'mon. Hey Kerry, where should we start?"

"Uh, weights," Kerry says, forcing herself to look away from David's eyes. "And we gotta work on your core."

"This is not as fun as blowing shit up," Dvd sighs, but leads David over to the weights.

"Try not to think about them," Lenny mutters to Kerry. "Unless there's something we need to know?"

"I dunno," Kerry admits, quietly. "It was bad."

"Shocker," Lenny mutters. "When David's distracted, you and Cary write it down. Give it to me or Amy or Ptonomy or-- Oliver's safe, too."

"They're David's dreams," Kerry points out.

"Yeah, and do you think he can deal with them now, on top of everything else?" Lenny asks.

Kerry considers that. "Maybe not."

"I'm keeping things manageable," Lenny says. "As soon as Melanie's up to it, they're gonna have that coffee date. So let's just-- Keep things cool."

"I can do cool," Kerry assures her. "I'm very cool." Then she gives Lenny a narrow-eyed look. "Is Benny still in there?"

Lenny stares at her, startled. Then she laughs and shakes her head. "He's, uh, not calling the shots anymore."

"That's better," Kerry says, but she's still cautious.

"Look, I'm really sorry about before," Lenny says, genuinely. "You know, you were pretty amazing, kicking all that ninja ass."

"Of course," Kerry says, proudly. She's good and she knows it.

"Maybe you could teach me too?" Lenny asks. "I've, uh-- I could use some of that-- No more defenseless Lenny."

Kerry looks her in the eyes. Lenny's-- Not as cocky and angry as she was before. She's vulnerable. It makes Kerry want to help her.

"You gonna keep your hands to yourself?" Kerry challenges.

"Scout's honor," Lenny promises.

"There's no way you were a scout," Kerry says, suspicious. "But okay. Go get some weights."

"You know I'm in an android body, right?" Lenny points out.

"So what?" Kerry says. "This lesson is for minds, not bodies. Show me your fighting stance."

Lenny hesitates, then braces herself.

Kerry laughs. "That's so bad."

Amy laughs behind her hand.

"Oh, you wanna get dragged into this, too?" Lenny challenges.

"Oh no," Amy says.

Lenny glares at Clark, and he stares back at her. "I was in the army."

"Oh yeah," Lenny says, and sighs. "Cruise ship Mental Health," she mutters, and heads over to David and Dvd.

Kerry looks at her-- Her students. Yeah, they're her students now. She likes that. She's going to teach the hell out of them.

Chapter 179: Day 14: Cary forgot what it was like, to see Oliver loving him. (Cary)

Chapter Text

"Cary," Melanie murmurs. Her face is crumpled with pain, but despite that she's working so hard to stay with them. She looks at Cary over and over, at Oliver, at Ptonomy, at-- The faces that must be becoming familiar to her at last, now that she's remembering.

Thank god. Thank god, he was so worried.

He notices Kerry walk away, knows she's upset, but-- He can't go to her right now, he can't leave Melanie and Oliver. God, Oliver. Cary looks for help and Amy stands up, goes to soothe Kerry. He feels a rush of gratitude for Amy, for this whole-- Family around them.

Melanie starts to settle, though he's not sure if it's because this burst of recovered memories has ended or if she's just too exhausted to fight against the torrent. Dvd and Clark and David all step away to help Kerry, to set up the loft. Part of Cary wants to be there with her, to share the experience the way they've shared so much. But he needs to be here.

Melanie falls into what Cary hopes is a healing sleep, and everyone eases. Cary finally looks up again, and sees Oliver, Syd and Ptonomy, Divad and-- Past David.

Past David looks back with haunted eyes.

"Cary," Oliver says, with great feeling. Cary turns and sees Oliver-- Smiling at him, his eyes shining with emotion and relief. Nothing like the blank confusion when they met on the astral plane a year ago, or the vague acknowledgement of the past weeks. This is Oliver-- Whole.

Oliver puts Melanie's hand down, and takes the blanket Ptonomy offers and drapes it over her, tucks her in. He tenderly touches her cheek, brushes back hair from her forehead. There's so much love pouring off him, for Melanie. And when he turns to Cary, there's love for him there, too.

It's been so long. Cary forgot what it was like, to see Oliver loving him. He's not normally-- An emotional person, but-- He feels overwhelmed with emotion.

He reaches out to Oliver, but-- His fingers slip through him. He pulls his hand back, disappointed.

"Sorry," he says, surprised at the roughness of his own voice.

Oliver gives a thoughtful hum, then stands up. He sits down on the sofa, next to Divad, and moves into a meditative pose. And then he steps out of his body.

"Oliver, you shouldn't--" Cary starts.

Oliver sits beside Cary on the loveseat, and pulls him into a hug. It's a shock to be touched, even though Cary knew it was technically possible. He lets out a gasp and holds Oliver back so tightly. Oliver.

As Oliver holds him, Cary feels Oliver's mind against his own, a touch as soothing and tender as-- As Oliver's hand against Melanie's cheek. And Cary feels Oliver's love, his regret and sorrow, his happiness. Oliver shares all that with him, the way-- He used to.

Cary remembers, then-- Oliver used to say-- It was only fair. He felt their feelings so-- He wanted them to feel his. So things would be equal between them.

When Oliver pulls back, Cary's glasses are smudged with tears. He takes them off and wipes his eyes, cleans the lenses with his shirt. He puts them back on, and sees Oliver-- And has to hug him again.

"I missed you so much," Cary says, soft and tight. "We all missed you so much."

"I missed me, too," Oliver says, lightly.

Cary forces himself to let Oliver go. "We don't want to lose you again. Get back in your body."

Oliver huffs but obeys. He steps back into his body. "Better?" he asks.

"Much," Cary says, relieved. He collects himself. From the loft, he hears Kerry happily ordering people around, and knows she's all right.

Everything's all right. Well, as right as it can be, considering their situation.

"I should-- We should talk to Doctor Orwell," Cary says. "Psychic surgery-- And that still doesn't resolve the matter of-- Our body." He looks at Past David, and Past David stares back. The college sweatshirt somehow makes him look even younger.

"We're already working on a solution," Ptonomy soothes. "You've been through a hell of a lot. Let's just take a moment, okay?"

"Of course," Cary agrees. "You're right." But he's never been very good at-- Taking moments.

"How are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks.

Cary hardly knows what to say to that. "I'll feel much better once all this is sorted out," he assures them.

"So you're not feeling very good now?" Ptonomy says, barely holding back an amused smirk.

Cary looks at Oliver and Ptonomy and can practically see them conspiring. He looks to Divad for-- Some kind of help, but Divad just gives a nod for him to answer Ptonomy's question. Cary looks to Syd, and she's no help either. He mildly scowls at all of them.

"I know you never much cared for talk work," Oliver says, understanding. "And with your system, Kerry was-- A bit of an attention hog."

Cary's frown immediately deepens. They're not a system, he wants to say, but can't. "I suppose-- This proves it?" he asks, unhappily. "The-- Arrangement of our soul."

"Yes," Oliver says.

Cary still wants to resist it. Maybe the way they are now, maybe it's because of what Farouk did to them. Maybe David's system isn't actually a system at all, and it's they who need to-- But Cary can't bring himself to say that. Because it's not true, and because-- He can't suggest such a thing to Past David. Cary's heart rebels against such cruelty.

But his heart rebels at the alternative, at the truth. After all these years--

"Is it so terrible, being part of a system?" Oliver asks, gently. "It doesn't change the fact that you and Kerry love each other."

"It's not about that," Cary protests. "It's--" He huffs. "Do we have to talk about this?"

"Yes," Ptonomy says, seriously. "We didn't deal with this ourselves, so Farouk forced us to deal with it on his terms, as his truth. We need to take this ground back."

"You think that's-- Why he did it," Cary says, half-asking. "Why he used Kerry's-- Our body."

"Yes," Ptonomy says, certain. "Farouk likes to-- Use our denial. The truths that scare us most. But always his version of those truths, so we hurt instead of heal."

"My truths," Cary says, quietly. "That I'm not an individual but-- An identity in a system. That I was never meant to be-- Who I am now. That I'm just like David and-- I'm sick."

Ptonomy gives an understanding nod. "Or we could look at all that another way. That your mind found a way to cope with your environment. That you and Kerry are more important to each other than any of us knew. That you'll never lose each other, because you're a system together."

"We'd have to have split in the womb," Cary protests. "That's impossible."

"Mutants defy impossible every day," Ptonomy says. "Cary, we're defying the very concept of death right now. Is DID that much of a stretch for you?"

Cary's so glad that Kerry is up in the loft, distracted. "It's not who I am," he says, keeping his voice low.

Even saying it, he feels the bite of irony. Melanie convinced David that he wasn't sick, that he's just a mutant, and that hurt him so much. Melanie and Oliver convinced Cary of the same thing.

"We were wrong," Oliver says, soberly. "Melanie and I. Between us, we believed we understood-- Every way that minds and mutant powers could interact. We looked at you and Kerry and-- We were so certain."

"It just-- Doesn't make sense," Cary protests. "Nothing bad could have happened to me or Kerry in the womb. This is just how we were born."

"We don't know what caused your split," Ptonomy says. "Maybe we never will. But Farouk forced you to become part of David's system. That's what we need to work through."

"Farouk swapped Kerry and I," Cary points out, grumpily. "Do we need to work through that, too?"

"Absolutely," Ptonomy says. "I know that's something you and Kerry were trying to handle on your own. But you have us to help. You're not facing any of this alone, remember? Those are your words."

Cary can hardly forget. Not least because-- Looking at Past David's haunted eyes makes him feel like he's back in that cell, trying to help David see that-- There's hope for him. That accepting his diagnosis is-- The beginning of hope, not the end of it.

Cary knows he should follow his own advice. But it's easier to give advice than to accept it, to help than to let himself be helped. He's not good at letting himself be helped at all.

"If you're not good at something, then you have to practice," Oliver says, responding to his thoughts. "So let's make a start."

"Cary," Divad says, leaning forward. "What is it about being an identity that scares you?"

Cary struggles for an answer.

"Sometimes it's hard for me, too," Divad admits. "Are you-- Scared of losing yourself? Or not being accepted?"

"Both, perhaps," Cary admits. "Things were-- Very hard for us. Before Oliver and Melanie found us."

"So during the time when you accepted you had DID, or multiple personalities-- That was a traumatic time in your life," Ptonomy says.

"Melanie and I talked about it," Cary says. "But only-- That Kerry and I's powers-- Complicated our life. There was-- Our parents' divorce, our-- Ostracism from our birth culture. And beyond that, our-- Way of being together-- Ostracized us from society. Classified us as-- Less than human, without any-- True recourse or protection."

It's painful, talking about all this. He hasn't talked about it to anyone in so long. Once he accepted he was a mutant, he cut himself off from all of it and focused only on-- Building a society he could actually belong to. And now it seems-- He doesn't.

"Oliver," Cary continues, "your dream was so wonderful, but-- You told me I wasn't sick, that I was a mutant. That my sickness was a misunderstanding. And my-- Belonging in your dream-- Depended on accepting that."

"There was only room for part of yourself," Oliver says, understanding.

"The mutant part," Cary agrees. "And like David, I-- Clung to that. Relied on it. And now--" His voice trembles.

"Cary," Oliver says, eyes pained, voice soft with concern. "I was wrong. And my-- Arrogance-- Hurt you and David and-- All of us."

Cary wants to protest. He's always idolized Oliver, especially once he was gone. It was easy to imagine him as perfect when-- Melanie wanted that, too. When it eased the pain of missing him.

But the Oliver in front of him is just a man. A man looking back at his life with fresh perspective, with all his mistakes laid out before him.

"It's not your fault," Cary says anyway.

"It was a complicated situation," Ptonomy offers. "What matters is that we're learning from it. Cary-- How does it feel when you look back at the difficulties you faced, knowing your powers were only part of the story?"

Cary struggles with that. "When Melanie and I-- Discussed my history-- The focus became-- Society's lack of understanding for mutant powers. Its inability to accept-- Our genetic differences. That we simply-- Lacked the necessary education and support."

"That's what she taught me, too," Ptonomy says. "That it wasn't our fault for being different. It was society that needed to change so we could all thrive together."

"Yes," Cary says, and misses that certainty.

"And Summerland was about giving mutants that education and support," Ptonomy continues.

"Very much."

"And your dream for Division 4," Ptonomy says. "That's about-- Taking that dream and sharing it with the world, right? Not just mutants, but all of humanity. Because all of us need that education and support."

"Yes," Cary says, and feels it strongly. "There's so much we can do for each other."

"Including people with mental illnesses," Ptonomy says. "Whether they have powers or not."

"Yes," Cary says, sobering. "Things are-- Better than they were when I was young. But so much more could be done. So many mutants powers are-- Mental, involving the astral plane, the soul-- Sometimes I think perhaps-- They're a way for-- Human society itself to adapt to-- A dense population of billions. An emergent property." He shakes his head, dismissing it. It's merely a pet theory, one he can't prove one way or the other. "Regardless. What we did at Summerland-- Should be done at a much larger scale, and-- It would give mutants a path to acceptance, a positive role in society."

"So if you can have all that hope for everyone else," Ptonomy says. "If you can see everyone's fundamental humanity, then why can't you apply that to yourself?"

"Why can't I change my mind?" Cary asks, rhetorically. "When I became a mutant, I was so relieved to just-- Leave my sickness behind. To be-- As a mutant-- Normal and healthy."

"You didn't process your pain," Ptonomy says. "You just-- Tucked it away. Hid it inside yourself."

Cary nods.

"So that part of you," Ptonomy says. "Connecting with that-- It's like going back to before Summerland, to when you were alone and afraid and believed-- That your pain was all your fault."

Cary can't help but look at Past David. And seeing him-- He sees himself. Young and alone and afraid, trapped in an asylum, believing himself-- Hopelessly mad.

Kerry saved him from that place, like she saved him so many times. She gave him a reason to keep going, to fight. Just as Divad and Dvd and David all kept going for each other, fighting for each other, no matter how bad things got.

"Yes," he answers, quietly. "The shame is-- Extremely painful."

"I felt it," Oliver acknowledges. "I believed the cure was acceptance. But I only truly accepted half of you."

"You didn't know," Cary defends. "I didn't know."

"We know now," Oliver says. "Cary, I want you to know that-- I love you. All of you and Kerry, unconditionally. I love and accept you exactly as you are."

Cary's throat tightens and he tears up. "Oliver," he says, softly.

"You have absolutely no reason to be ashamed of yourself," Oliver continues. "You're kind and loving, you've done so much for all of us, for the world. You are a wonderful person, and that anyone couldn't see that-- That was entirely their loss. I'm so proud that you're my friend."

"Oliver," Cary protests.

"Can I hug you again?" Oliver asks, with a smile.

"Oh, get over here," Cary says, and opens his arms. Oliver steps out of his body and hugs him, and Cary's heart feels like it might burst.

"I missed you so much," Cary says, and sniffs. He takes off his glasses and rests his face against Oliver's shoulder.

"I'm here," Oliver soothes. He plants a small kiss to the side of Cary's head, rubs his back. That tenderness-- It salves something fundamental. Cary thinks of David's need for human touch and understands.

When Cary feels ready, he lets Oliver go and shoos him back into his body. Cary gathers himself, cleans his glasses and puts them back on, then faces the group. Ptonomy's relieved, Syd and Divad look at him with understanding, and Past David--

There's less of that hollowing pain in his eyes, somehow. A little more confusion, but also-- Less fear. Cary's glad to see it. Baby steps, he thinks. According to Ptonomy, that's how they're all supposed to get better together.

He's not facing any of this alone.

"I'm-- A system," he says, only faltering a little. He swallows. "Kerry and I are a system. And that's-- It's okay. It's not a bad thing, it's just-- Different." Part of him still rebels, but-- If David's system deserves kindness, if all the other systems in the world deserve kindness-- Then his does, too.

"Absolutely," Divad says, visibly proud of him. He puts an arm around Past David and smiles at him, and Past David gives a very tentative smile back.

"Wonderful," Oliver praises. "I'm certain Kerry will be very happy to hear that."

"Yes," Cary agrees, but hesitates. "Perhaps we should--"

"Have a session together?" Ptonomy suggests. "I think that's a good idea."

"It could wait," Cary offer. "There's so much going on--"

"You're a priority, too," Ptonomy says. "We haven't forgotten all the trouble you were having being inside. That needs to be addressed before we put you back in your system's body."

Cary blanches, remembering how badly all that was going. "Yes, I suppose it does."

"It'll be all right," Ptonomy soothes. "We'll work through it together, okay?"

"We will," Cary sighs, mostly to affirm it to himself. "Oliver, is there-- Has there been any progress on my physical projection?"

"Not yet," Oliver admits. "Doctor Orwell's team is working on it."

"Maybe there's something you can do, now that you're-- Yourself again?" Cary asks, hopeful.

"My specialty has always been minds and souls, rather than bodies," Oliver says. "But I promise I'll do everything I can."

"I will too," Divad says. "And so will David and Dvd."

"Thank you," Cary says, glad for their support, even if there's no solution yet.

"How about we get your work area set back up?" Ptonomy offers. "This is your lab, after all. And once it's all set up, David can make an astral duplicate for you. That's what he did for Kerry's equipment."

"Oh," Cary says, surprised. Then he grins. "Oh, that would be wonderful!"

Oliver grins, too. "Then let's get to work! We always did enjoy a bit of wiring."

"We did," Cary says, and a rush of fond memories hits him. The happiest moments of his life were when he and Oliver and Melanie were all working together, building Summerland from the ground up. He belonged. He was useful, he was-- Loved.

He's still loved. He still belongs. And he's still useful, even as just-- An astrally projected identity.

Maybe they really will get through this. Maybe everything really will all be okay. He wants to believe that. With all his heart, he wants it: Oliver and Melanie and even himself all healed and reunited.

That potential still feels-- Impossibly fragile. But so did David's recovery, at the beginning. If Cary can have hope for him, then-- He can have hope for himself.

Chapter 180: Day 14: She's starting to feel right at home. (Melanie)

Chapter Text

Melanie wakes with an absolutely awful headache. She hears conversations, several of them but not closeby, overlapping each other. She's warm from the blanket. She moans softly and cracks open her eyes, and sees the sitting area around her is empty, the lights overhead are off. There's a glass of water and a bottle of headache pills on the coffee table.

Thank god. She pushes off the blanket, takes two pills and drinks the water, then lies back and waits for the throbbing in her head to ease.

It hurts to think. Her brain is like an overworked muscle, sore and hot and stiff.

Slow minutes pass, and she focuses on the conversations. Up in the loft, Kerry and Lenny are having some kind of exercise lesson. Oliver and Cary are having a technical conversation, with Amy occasionally chiming in. And further away, Syd and the Davids are speaking sporadically, softly. She doesn't hear Ptonomy or Clark, and when she feels up to raising her head to look, she doesn't see them either.

She puts her head back down to rest some more. Everything seems calm, and everyone seems happy. Resting here, listening to them like this, it feels familiar, it feels-- Nostalgic.

It feels like Summerland.

She's startled by the realization. Melanie Farouk didn't know about Summerland until today, and even then it was just a story. Summerland belongs to Melanie Bird, and she is not Melanie Bird.

Except she is. She remembers being Melanie Bird, she remembers Summerland. She remembers how she liked to just watch and listen to all the mutants living together, the community they were always creating, changing over time but in some ways constant. She remembers that strongly.

None of that was in the story they gave her. This feeling, this bone-deep knowledge, is so much bigger than a story.

She tentatively tries to remember more. The painkillers are starting to help, and she remembers Cary. He was her best friend, her constant, the one person she could always rely on no matter what happened. She feels an intense sense of-- Camaraderie for him, trust and caring and companionship.

Is. He is her best friend, even though she only met him today.

God, her head.

After a while she feels well enough to sit up. She moves slowly, careful not to jar anything. She drinks the rest of the water and tries to decide what to do. She could go to Cary, to Oliver. She still only barely remembers Oliver, but now she's starting to feel the spaces where the memories of him should be. Her life as Melanie Bird is filling in around his absence, and she's surprised that the space of him isn't bigger.

But then in the story, he was gone for a very long time.

She gathers herself and walks over to the beds where Syd and David's system are gathered. The four of them are crowded together on one bed, and Syd is sitting opposite, focused on her notebook, writing? No, drawing.

When Melanie approaches, Syd looks up and gives her a tentative smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore," Melanie admits, gesturing at her head. "May I join you?"

"Of course," Syd says, and shifts aside to make room.

Melanie sits beside her, and sees that Syd is working on a mostly-finished sketch of Dvd, Divad, and both Davids, all together on the bed.

"Clark went out for dinner with his family," Syd says, before Melanie can ask. "Ptonomy's with Doctor Orwell."

"Ah," Melanie says. She glances at the clock. "Dinner sounds good."

"Now that you're up, we'll be eating soon," Syd says. "Is there something you'd like to have?"

Melanie starts to answer, then hesitates, remembering the confusion she had at lunch. "I'm not sure," she admits.

Syd just gives an accepting hum. She starts sketching again. Melanie thinks of how Syd always loved to draw, even as a child. She remembers that, and she thinks it might still be true.

She wishes she remembered more about raising Syd, about her life as Melanie Farouk. She wishes those memories would grow fuller and more intense, that the gaps would fill in. But they don't, and the more real her Melanie Bird memories become, the more her Melanie Farouk memories feel like-- A sketch of a life, compared to a painting.

"You're really not my daughter," Melanie says, involuntarily.

Syd relaxes. "No," she says, kindly but relieved.

Melanie grieves. There's nothing she can do but grieve, and it hurts. Her heart hurts. She wipes at her eyes. "Sorry." She doesn't know what else to say.

Syd stops sketching. "I'm sorry, too," she says, and seems to mean it. "I think-- I would have really liked being your daughter."

Melanie gives a sad laugh. It's either that or she breaks down crying, and she isn't ready for that, not yet. She needs to focus on something else. "Can I see?" she asks, pointing at the sketch.

Syd hands it over. Melanie looks closely at the sketch, then up at both Davids, Dvd, and Divad. "It's a very good likeness," she says.

"Family portrait," Dvd says, meaningfully. "Gotta complete the set."

"The set?" Melanie asks.

Syd reaches over and picks up five loose sheets of paper and hands them to Melanie. There's a sketch of one of the older Davids sleeping, it's not clear which until she notes 'David' written in the corner. Then there's a portrait each of David, Divad, Dvd, and the younger David.

Her David. Except the older David is her David, too. She sees him taking her hand on a beach, nervous, hopeful, afraid. She remembers wanting to help him so much, wanting him to help her. Needing him so much that-- She rushed his treatment.

She remembers that, rushing his treatment, breaking her own rules. She remembers Cary being concerned, but-- He trusted her. Of course he trusted her.

She meets David's eyes, the older David. He looks back at her with-- Too much understanding. She remembers telling him he's a mutant, that what seemed to be madness was only his powers. She remembers telling that to so many mutants.

It hits her, then. That she's not a mutant. Her powers aren't broken or suppressed, she just-- Doesn't have any.

Her hands go nerveless and the sketches fall. But David reaches out, and before they can hit the ground they rise up and lay themselves into his hands, unharmed.

"Melanie?" Syd calls, worried.

"I'm--" Melanie starts, and she means to say 'I'm all right,' but it's so utterly untrue that she can't.

"Maybe you should lie back down," Syd offers.

"No," Melanie says, quickly. "No, I-- I need to be here." With Syd. With David, both of him.

"Okay," Syd says, accepting.

All of them are staring at her, watching her with concern. But it's the younger David she finds herself staring back at. She doesn't have powers, but she remembers using them to read his mind, to stop him from hurting himself-- And yet all of that, all of that was just a dream.

No. Not a dream, not even a nightmare. What happened to them was intentional, it was planned and controlled, it was--

She thinks she might be sick, or faint, or-- Something-- And for a moment everything goes away. But then the world comes back, and she's holding Syd's hand tightly.

"Sorry," she breathes, knowing Syd doesn't like to be touched, knowing-- Knowing it hurts her. But Syd doesn't let her go.

"It's okay," Syd soothes.

"It's not," Melanie says, her voice hollow. Her skin itches, crawls with revulsion. Nothing's okay, nothing's--

"It's okay," David soothes, the older David. He moves to sit beside her, opens his arms for her and she falls into them, gasping. She breathes against his chest and remembers what she read, what she saw: the monster: Lenny's terrible smile and Amahl's smug smirk, eyeless behind his dark sunglasses, and her heart breaks again because she needs so desperately to believe that he was just like Lenny, that he was just a mask.

The monster can't be Amahl, he can't be. She loves him.

"It's okay," David soothes again.

Melanie manages to gather herself and lets him go. She's not used to such-- Public breakdowns, not in either of her lives. She glances over and sees Cary, Oliver, and Amy watching her.

That was the thing about Summerland. This was part of how it worked. Everyone in close quarters makes it harder for people to slip through the cracks, even when they desperately want to.

"Maybe I should lie down," Melanie says, because that seems to be the only way she can hide from all this.

"Stay?" David asks her. He quirks a tiny smile, and she knows then that he heard her thoughts. Of course he did. He's the most powerful mutant who ever existed, not-- A powerless human.

It seems absurd that she ever thought David was powerless. She should've known that--

But she didn't know. She couldn't know, she-- Forgot all of that. She forgot so much, even her own name.

Melanie Bird. But no, that was her married name. What was-- "Syd, do you know-- My maiden name?"

"You don't remember?" Syd asks.

"No," Melanie admits, ashamed. She remembers being married to Amahl for so long it didn't matter. But like so many things she initially thought shouldn't matter, it absolutely does.

"I don't know, but-- Oliver?" Syd calls.

"Yes?" Oliver calls back.

"What's Melanie's maiden name?" Syd asks.

Cary stands up. "Origen," he says, hurriedly. "Melanie Justine Origen." He starts over to them, then hesitates. “Melanie?"

Melanie braces herself. "Come here," she says, reaching out a hand.

Cary comes right over. He reaches for her hand, but then stops, gives an apologetic tilt of his transparent head.

She meets his eyes, but the expected assault of memories doesn't come. She just knows him without-- Having to relive how she knows him.

She knows him. "I know you," she tells him.

Cary breaks into a relieved smile. "I'm very happy to hear that."

David stands. "Here, sit," he says to Cary, and takes his previous spot next to Divad.

Cary sits next to Melanie. The bed doesn't shift under his weight, but he doesn't fall through either. "David made astral duplicates of everything in the lab," he explains. "Though of course there are limitations, lack of synchronization, data sharing requires manual intervention but--" He turns to David. "This is very much an improvement, thank you."

"Glad I could help," David says, quirking a smile.

Cary turns back to Melanie, and he seems rather overwhelmed. "How much do you-- Of course I understand if you're not ready to talk about it, but-- Certainly we should do more scans, track how the healing of your astral and physical forms and your memories relate, there's so much--"

Melanie holds up a hand to stop him. She knows he can ramble on forever if no one intervenes. She knows how-- He takes refuge in the technical.

She marvels at that knowledge. It doesn't feel new at all. She feels like she's known him for decades. And apparently that's because she has.

Melanie Justine Origen. Not Bird or Farouk, but Origen. Surely it should feel more familiar, if that's her name, her birth name. She can't remember knowing her birth name, how could she not know that?

Because she was made to forget. Because the monster didn't care who she was before she was Melanie Farouk.

She looks at the people around her, all looking at her with hope and concern and care, and knows that they're not who she thought they were, when she came here. When they brought her to this lab. They're not her enemies.

"Is there-- Anything you'd like to know?" Cary asks. "If there's anything that will help, anything at all--"

"Maybe," Melanie says, and considers the offer. She knows Cary very well, so he must know her very well, too. Perhaps even better than her supposed husbands. He shared her life far more than either Amahl or Oliver. She thinks of what happened at lunch, of remembering, of-- David remembering. That's why they filled the lab with his system's things, to help them feel at home, to take them back to a time before they were ripped apart.

And the lab, and Cary and Kerry's equipment--

"I work here," Melanie says, recalling what she read, what they told her. "And there are-- Apartments. I have one, yes?"

"Oh yes," Cary says.

"Then I'd like to see it," Melanie says.

There's a brief discussion as it's decided who'll come with her. She chooses Syd and Cary and David's system -- which means Kerry has to come, too -- and everyone else stays behind. They take the elevator up a few floors and walk into a hallway that looks very much like all the other hallways in this building. They stop at a door that looks very much like every other door, and then they open it and--

She stops, surprised. This wasn't what she expected at all. The room is-- Not messy, but-- There's throw pillows and rumpled blankets and the air smells-- Strange. There's a tea set with dirty cups and a large decorative elephant and-- A small bottle with blue liquid inside it.

"We probably should've cleaned this up," Syd says, embarrassed.

"No," Melanie says. "I'm glad you didn't. You said-- I was ill. Depressed."

"You were weird," Kerry says. She's leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, and clearly refusing to look at Melanie. "You said a lot of stupid stuff about not being real."

"You had detachment syndrome," Cary explains. "Farouk was-- Regularly separating your soul from your body, and this caused your mind to-- Lose coherence. The symptoms are-- Similar to depression. Apathy, emptiness, slowed thinking. You expressed anger about Oliver, so we thought--"

Melanie nods. She picks up the bottle, opens it. The strange smell must have come from the liquid inside. "What's this?"

Everyone hesitates.

"Vapor," David says, the older David. "It's a drug, it, uh-- Takes away your pain." His eyes fix on the bottle, then with effort he looks away.

"You're familiar with it?" Melanie asks.

"You could say that," David says, and he's smiling but he's not happy.

"I was using it?" Melanie asks. "Regularly?"

Syd nods. "We all tried talking to you, but--" She shakes her head.

Melanie closes the bottle and puts it back where she found it. She picks up the elephant and inspects it. It seems to be some kind of vaporizing dispenser. She puts it down and walks around the room, touching the pillows and blankets, breathing the air, trying to put herself back in the moment and bring the memory back, if it's there.

Nothing.

She picks up the tea set and brings it over to the sink, and washes out the cups. "Tea?" she offers.

"Uh, sure," Syd says. "Divad? David?"

"Sure," Divad says. The younger David nods.

Melanie starts to ask if anyone else wants some, but then remembers no one else has a physical body. "David, perhaps-- You could make tea for everyone else?"

That pulls the older David out of the quiet mood he'd slipped into. "Yeah," he says, gathering himself.

"How about we clean up?" Syd offers.

"Yes," Melanie agrees.

Syd, Dvd, and Divad tidy the room, shaking out the blankets and folding them, stacking them up out of the way with most of the pillows. The elephant and the bottle are put into a cupboard, out of sight. When Melanie's tea set is clean and the water is hot, David reaches for the tray and pulls away an astral copy of it, and they set both trays on the coffee table. The warm scent of tea fills room.

"Oh, this is lovely," Cary sighs, breathing in the steam from his cup.

Kerry gives an annoyed grunt. She declined the tea, and she also declined to sit with them.

"Kerry, would you like to join us?" Melanie asks again.

Kerry doesn't answer. Something about her reticence feels familiar, though Melanie can't place it.

Melanie closes her eyes and breathes in the steam from her cup. She feels the sofa beneath her, listens to the soft sounds of the room and the muffled noise of the city through the window glass. She lived in this room for a year, she lived in it until just a few weeks ago, surely something that recent should come back easily.

Nothing.

She sips at the tea and then puts down the cup, frustrated.

"Melanie?" Syd prompts, concerned.

"I'm trying to remember," Melanie says. "I thought the tea would help, but-- Perhaps I should try the drugs."

"Or not," Divad mutters.

"Let's not do anything hasty," Cary says. "When recovering from detachment syndrome, it seems the strongest memories heal first. For you it was Summerland, for Oliver it was-- Well, it was you." He gets a fond look, then a hopeful one. "Do you remember anything more about him?"

Melanie shakes her head.

"Give it time," Syd soothes. "You've only been back in your body for a day."

"I know," Melanie says, but she doesn't know that. She's just taking them at their word, trusting them with her entire sense of self, even though-- Well, at least she remembers Cary now. She trusts Cary. "I remember Cary," she says. "I remember-- Finding David and trying to help him." She meets David's eyes, then turns to Syd. "I remember you were there, that you and David were important to each other. And Ptonomy was there. And--"

She hesitates, looking at the younger David. She remembers months with him and Amahl, months where the three of them were-- Three peas in a pod. Four, once Syd--

Grief hits her again.

"I never had any children," she half-asks.

"No," Cary says, sadly. "After Oliver-- You never gave up on him. There was never anyone else. And-- Summerland was full of young mutants you were devoted to caring for. Are you remembering any of them? Oliver had difficulty with faces and names. Though now I suppose that's all back--" He frowns, thoughtful.

"It's more-- The place," Melanie admits. "There's a sense of-- That it was full of life, but--"

"We had a great deal of turnover," Cary admits. "Oliver imagined something more permanent, but for most mutants, what was important was-- Being able to return to their lives. For those lives to be better, with new understanding and control over their abilities. You said it was important for us to avoid institutionalization." He gives a crooked smile. "Of course it was home for many of us anyway. Not everyone had a life to return to. But then the Divisions--" He gets a pained look and cuts off. "We lost so many."

"I'm sorry," Melanie says, empathetic. She doesn't know if the deaths she remembers were real or creations, but the pain must be the same.

Cary gathers himself, clears his throat. "Perhaps your memory of Summerland is like-- A time lapse recording. The relatively brief time most people were there wouldn't register as strongly as the place itself, though the-- Feeling they engendered may have been-- Collectively powerful."

Melanie considers that. "Yes, I think so."

From her self-imposed isolation, Kerry huffs.

"Kerry?" Melanie calls. "Is something wrong?"

Kerry just scowls.

"I'm sorry," Cary apologizes. "All this has been-- Very difficult for her."

"Of course," Melanie says. And yet-- "But I usually find that talking helps. Sharing your feelings."

"Yes," Cary says, and looks at her fondly.

Dvd shifts in his seat. He exchanges some kind of meaningful glances with Divad and David. It goes on long enough that Melanie realizes they must be having a telepathic conversation. The grief of losing her powers hits her again.

"Melanie," Dvd says, finally speaking aloud. "Do you-- I mean, you remember Cary, right?"

"Yes," Melanie says, certain.

"So do you, y'know--" Dvd subtly tilts his head at Kerry.

Melanie frowns, and then-- Understands. "Kerry," she says, turning to her. "Are you angry with me because I can't remember you yet?"

"No," Kerry says, angry and stubborn and obviously a lie.

Melanie wishes she could remember Kerry. She wishes she could remember everything she's forgotten, but-- It's just not there yet. But seeing Kerry upset like this--

It reminds her of how she felt for David, in Amahl's lab. The urge to help, to protect, to-- Care for him like he was her own. She pauses, thinking how strange it is that she remembers meeting David and feeling like-- She didn't have any children of her own, and patients like him filled that absence.

Absurd, when she had a daughter. When of course she had a daughter. But Syd isn't her daughter.

Despite her confusion, that feeling is still there. She stands up and walks over to Kerry, and Kerry takes an alarmed step back, defensive.

"Kerry," Melanie starts.

"I don't need you," Kerry says, forcefully.

"Of course you don't," Melanie soothes. "But I think I hurt your feelings. I'm very sorry about that."

"Whatever," Kerry mutters, but it's obvious that she's very hurt.

"You said-- I said something about-- Not being real?" Melanie says.

Kerry tenses up even more. "Leave me alone," she says, and tries to leave but can't, tethered here by her connection to David's soul. She clenches her fists and gives a frustrated noise, then marches past them to the sleeping area and turns away from them to sulk.

Cary sighs and puts down his tea, ready to intervene, but Melanie puts up a hand. She goes over to Kerry and sits on the bed. The lower position should make her less threatening to Kerry. She puts her hands together on her lap and looks at Kerry, patient but not challenging, and waits.

In less than thirty seconds, Kerry rounds on her.

"You wanna know what you said?" Kerry says, angry. "You said I wasn't real, that I was just-- Cary's fantasy! You're the one who told me I was a person! That I wasn't just part of Cary! But now we know we're a system so what if you were wrong and then you were right?"

She stops, staring intensely at Melanie, clearly expecting an answer.

Melanie takes a moment to work through all that. "Kerry, are you afraid that-- Being an identity means you're not real?"

"Of course not," Kerry insists, but there's fear in her eyes. "Dvd and Divad are real, they're super real. I know I'm real, but--" She falters. "That's because when I hit people they fall down. But now I can't."

"Because you lost your body," Melanie says, understanding.

"They were taken," Kerry says, firmly. "We had two bodies and now we don't. We can't both be fantasies."

"Neither of you is a fantasy," Melanie assures her.

"What if we are?" Kerry says.

Melanie pauses, considering. "Kerry, did you feel like a fantasy before your body was taken?"

Kerry pauses. "No, but--" She glances at Cary, then away. She visibly struggles, then stares at Melanie again. "You're the one who told me I was real."

"When you were sharing Cary's body?" Melanie asks, trying to keep up.

"When our system's body looked like Cary," Kerry corrects. "It was still our body."

"Of course," Melanie accepts. "But you didn't feel you were real before I told you that?"

Kerry crosses her arms. "No," she says, quietly. "I just-- I dunno."

"I understand that-- Your system's body was changed," Melanie says, carefully. "Altered."

"We got switched," Kerry says.

"And that changed how you felt about yourself?" Melanie asks.

"Yeah, but now it's gone," Kerry says, upset.

"So it was changed again," Melanie says. "And that changed how you feel again?"

Kerry nods once. She's less angry now, and more upset, scared. Of course she was always upset and scared about this, but she didn't feel safe expressing those feelings. That's how these things go.

"I know that everyone is working very hard to fix things," Melanie soothes. "Do you think getting your body back will help?"

Kerry shrugs. She looks over at Cary, and Melanie does the same. Cary's expression is somber, guarded. That feels very unusual to Melanie.

She turns back to Kerry. These fears Kerry has, they're obviously complicated, and something she's been struggling with for a very long time. They won't be able to solve it now, but-- Melanie can try to undo whatever damage she did, even if she can't remember doing it.

"I was wrong," Melanie tells Kerry, with complete certainty. "I was ill, Kerry. I wasn't thinking clearly at all. And it sounds like I took my anger out on you, and for that all I can do is apologize. I don't need to be able to touch you to know that you are absolutely real. I don't need to remember you to care about you. And I do care about you, Kerry. Just as much as I care about Cary and Syd and David's system."

Kerry's tension eases.

"I hope I'll remember all our time together soon," Melanie continues. "But no matter what I remember, I'd like us to be friends."

Kerry rushes forward to hug Melanie-- And slips right through her. Kerry stumbles back, embarrassed and upset. But then Dvd comes over and pulls Kerry into a rough hug. Kerry resists for a moment, then hugs him back.

"You can knock me down anytime," Dvd promises.

"I'm gonna," Kerry warns, but she smiles.

They separate, and Kerry looks better, lighter. "I guess I can try the tea," she decides. "I haven't tried tea yet."

"It's pretty good with lots of sugar," Dvd says, and the two of them walk back to the sofa.

Melanie breathes out, relieved for Kerry and also-- For herself. That despite her jumbled mind she can still help. She might have lost a lot of things -- her daughter, her powers -- but she hasn't lost this.

She rejoins the others, and finds her tea is hotter than it was when she left it. She gives a curious glance around, and Dvd winks at her. Ah, it was him.

She sees Cary looking at her, and he gives her a quiet, relieved smile. "Thank you," he mouths.

Melanie picks up her cup and warms her hands with it, breathes in the steam. She might not remember this room, but she's starting to feel right at home.

Chapter 181: Day 14: People don't go on dates with stress responses! (Past David)

Notes:

TW: thoughts of self-harm

Chapter Text

"I never thought I'd be happy to eat dinner," Kerry says. "Can I just order everything? We missed like, so many meals."

"Order whatever you like," Cary says, fondly. "Admittedly hunger is-- A strange concept as an astral projection, but-- Food is comforting." He pauses, then turns to David. "David, what would you like?"

David looks away from Melanie and at Cary, then at the menu on the wall. I want Amahl's food, he thinks, unhappily. He wants Amahl to bring him what he's supposed to eat, Amahl's mother's food, and for it to be spicy and hot and--

He shrugs and says nothing, looks away. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the other David exchange worried looks with Divad and Dvd and Syd. But it's Melanie who steps over to him. David gives her a wary look, but she smiles at him anyway.

She looks up at the menu. "It's hard to choose, isn't it?" she says, sympathetic.

David shrugs again. He's supposed to let Melanie help him, but he doesn't know who this Melanie is. If she's a mask or Amahl's wife or-- Or someone else. Everyone treats her like she's someone else and now-- She's starting to act like it's true.

It hurts. It's worse than-- Syd saying she's someone else. Amahl's losing his whole family and soon David will be all he has left. And David already failed him, he's useless, he's nothing, so Amahl--

David's throat tightens. "Not hungry," he mutters.

"Sometimes we don't know we're hungry until we eat," Melanie tells him. "Would you like to have what David is having?"

David shakes his head.

Melanie gives him a considering look, then softens. "You miss him," she says, gently. "I miss him, too."

David meets her eyes, afraid she's lying. But she doesn't seem to be lying. Not that he's any good at knowing without-- Powers. The monster's or-- His? He resists the urge to pull the crown off his head and find out.

"How about we put in a special order together?" Melanie offers.

Somehow that makes David feel a little better. He nods.

"Let me see what they can make," Melanie says, and she steps up to the counter to speak with the chef. After a few minutes, she returns. "They don't have time for a tajine, but they can make us Moroccan tomato soup and lemon chicken. How does that sound?"

The awful knot in David's stomach loosens, and he feels a tiny bit of hunger. "Okay," he says, softly.

"I doubt it'll be as good as Amahl's mother's cooking," Melanie assures him. "But then what is?"

David eases a little more. "Do you think-- We could visit her?" It would be nice to finally meet her.

Melanie's expression falters, then recovers. "I hope we can."

Everyone puts in their orders, then it's time for-- The date. It was supposed to be a coffee date, but apparently now it's a dinner date. David's still not sure how he feels about it. He's not sure what any of it means, when-- He's not even sure what's happening. If any of this is real, if they're all just the monster's masks, if he actually had a system in the first place--

He misses Amahl. He misses the lab. Amahl made everything simple. He always knew what was best, he knew what David needed. There wasn't all this-- Confusion.

Cary, Kerry, and Syd take a table by the window, and everyone else settles in at the center table, already set up for the six of them. On one side is Oliver, Dvd, and Divad, and then across from them are Melanie and the other David. The other David offers his hand, and David wants to take it, wants to feel what he feels, but--

Melanie stands back up and walks over. "David?" she prompts.

"This is wrong," David insists, quietly. "We can't-- Go on a date. Amahl is out there, he needs us!"

Melanie's expression falters again. "When I left Amahl, he was safe," she says, but she doesn't seem confident.

"And the monster?" David asks, even though-- The monster is here. The monster is all of them, isn't it? The monster is everyone, it's always been everyone, because nothing was ever real and David's too stupid to know the difference and--

He tugs down the sleeves of the college sweatshirt and wraps his arms around himself.

Melanie gives him an assessing look, then she takes him aside. "David, this date-- How do you feel about Dvd?"

David shrugs.

"I know Amahl and I told you that he was one of the monster's masks," Melanie says. "But I've come to believe that-- We were wrong. We made an assumption, that identities in a system couldn't be separated. And normally that's true but-- Your situation is an exception."

David glances over at the other David, at Dvd and Divad. He looks back to Melanie, very uncertain.

"David," Melanie says, gentle and sad. "I was wrong. You have a system and-- It loves you very much."

David can only shake his head. They told him over and over, they proved it to him over and over and-- His system was just a trick. They're the monster, they've always been the monster, and now Melanie wants him to-- Have a date with the monster?

It's crazy.

Oliver walks over. "May I join you?"

Melanie hesitates, then nods.

"I couldn't help overhearing," Oliver says to David. "May I ask-- How did they prove that your system was an illusion?"

David expects Melanie to answer that, but she matches Oliver's expectant look. David doesn't want to talk about any of this, but-- "They were gone." His whole body tenses up just thinking about it, about-- Waking up and they were gone. He presses his wrists against his body.

"That must have been terribly painful," Oliver says, sympathetic. "You loved them very much. You relied on them. And of course, they were part of you. How could parts of you simply-- Leave?"

"They can't," David insists. But they did. They were gone and they didn't come back, no matter how many times David begged and prayed and-- Months and months and they didn't come back, until he finally had to accept it. And if they were gone--

It made sense, that they were the monster, if they were gone.

"How did it make sense?" Oliver prompts, gently.

David glances at Dvd and Divad again, then looks away. It hurts to look at them. It brings everything back. They were gone.

"They were," Oliver agrees.

"They can't just come back," David insists. "They can't just--" They were ripped apart and he spent so long just trying to-- Exist without them-- And they're so different--

They're not a system anymore. They're just-- Jigsaw pieces that don't match.

The other David gives a strained laugh. Divad looks worried and Dvd's unhappy. And of course they are. David always ruins things, of course he makes them miserable, that's why-- That's why they left.

They can't want him back now. They can't. Only the monster-- The monster is the only one who wants him, even if it's just-- They have to be the monster because they left but they can't be the monster now because they can't want him back.

"It's very confusing," Oliver soothes.

David's trying not to cry, even though his whole body wants to cry and break down and--

"David, is it okay if I hug you?" Melanie asks.

David wants to say no, Melanie never wanted to hug him before, she shouldn't want to now. But he nods anyway. And when she holds him, he can't hold back from crying anymore.

"Amahl," David sobs, needing him.

"Shh, I know," Melanie soothes.

It hurts. Amahl being gone hurts just like Dvd and Divad being gone hurt. The people he needs keep being taken away from him and it has to be the monster, it's always the monster that hurts him, that tricks him into hurting himself, that-- That makes everything hurt so much that the only thing he can do is hurt more.

He needs to hurt more. He needs-- He imagines ripping open his stitches but there's no stitches anymore so he needs a knife or-- He could break a glass or a plate or--

He remembers-- The broken plate in his hand, and blood, and--

"Shh, shh," Oliver soothes, and-- A calm feeling brushes against his mind, like-- Like someone petting a cat. It brushes again and again, not pushing but-- The pain in his mind eases, the panicked urgency fading.

Melanie helps him sit, and he slumps over the table, leaning heavily. He feels awful and wounded and scared and-- When he felt this way, Dvd was always the one who made him feel better. It was always Dvd. Dvd promised he'd never ever leave him, and then-- Dvd left.

"He's here now," Melanie says, gently. "Dvd's right here, and-- I'm sure losing you hurt him just as much."

David shakes his head. Dvd can't be hurt because Dvd's the one who left. Dvd's sick of him, he hates him like Divad hates him. David was dragging them down and they all knew it, he was a burden, they didn't need him, he was useless, they didn't want him, why would anyone--

Dvd starts to stand, but Divad urges him back down. Dvd glares at him but sits, huffs.

"Shame makes it very hard to feel love," Oliver says. "It makes it hard to believe that-- There's anything in you worthy of love. The love of others, of yourself."

David doesn't answer.

"Melanie," Oliver says, conversationally. "Did you and Amahl ever give David his diagnosis?"

Melanie starts to reply, then frowns. "I'm not sure."

Oliver turns. "David, would you like to share your diagnosis with David?"

The other David looks surprised, then walks over. He sits next to Melanie and pauses, gathering his thoughts. "Well, um. We have DID, obviously. Dissociative identity disorder, and-- Dissociation generally." He quirks a brief smile, then sobers. "Anxiety, depression-- PTSD. Complex, uh-- Developmental trauma."

David just looks at him.

"Right," the other David sighs. "So, um-- When we were-- A baby-- The monster found us." He pauses, eyes full of emotion. "It was-- We saw it as a kind of-- Caregiver is the term, but-- It means-- It was in charge. It knew-- What was right and wrong, how the world worked. It showed us that, taught us-- Our place. That we were bad. And we accepted that."

The other David looks intensely at David, seeking something. Then he softens.

"We accepted that we were bad," he continues. "And so-- We were ashamed. Are ashamed. Not of-- Any one thing, but-- Of existing. Because deep down we know-- Wrong and-- Bad things like us--" He stops, swallows. "But we're not. Wrong. Or bad. We're not. We didn't deserve what happened to us, what it-- What he did to us. All of that was just-- Choices he made. Not the truth."

The other David waits expectantly.

"I don't understand," David says, because it seems he has to say something.

"I know," the other David says, kindly. "It took me a while to really-- The important thing is-- Love is what fights the shame. And I know that feels ridiculous when it's so hard to accept any love at all, but-- It's true. You felt it when-- We were opening the boxes. Remember that?"

David remembers-- The other David's hand over his heart, and all that love pouring into him-- But it wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

Because he's wrong and bad and unlovable and-- Monstrous. Twisted and sick and broken and repulsive and--

"No," the other David says, strained but certain. "None of that is true."

"Of course it's true," David says, fresh tears in his eyes. "You'd know that if you were me. You'd know."

"I do know," the other David says. "But knowing doesn't make it true. All that is just-- An idea. A bad idea that-- Infected us, like a parasite. And it's so strong now because it took so much from us. But no matter how strong it feels-- It stole that power from us. We take that back and it's weak, it can't hurt us anymore."

None of that makes any sense to David. He knows what he is, he's always known what he is. Everyone has always known what he is. He heard it, he heard all of it. Sick and broken and wrong and hopeless and nothing but trouble and a burden and--

"No," the other David says, defiant, almost angry. "No. We are David. We survived. We didn't deserve what happened to us, we belong to ourselves. We're loved and there's no shame in love and we are strong enough to heal. Those are my words and that means they're yours."

"David," Melanie says, cautioning.

The other David leans back. "Sorry. Sorry, I just--" He rubs his face. "This isn't how this was supposed to go." He looks unhappily at Dvd.

Dvd gets up and walks over, and hugs the other David from behind, rests his head against the other David's head. "It's okay," he soothes. "I love you."

The other David takes a shaky breath and leans against Dvd, visibly taking strength from him. And David feels an intense stab of jealousy, seeing them together, loving each other. That's supposed to be his love. He reaches out and grabs the other David's hand, and-- For a moment, it's everything, all that love and trust and-- And then the other David breaks free and it all vanishes.

"No!" David rasps, bereft and hurting and angry and-- He reaches for the other David again but Oliver grabs him, pulls him back. David bares his teeth at him, furious, and Oliver steps back but David still can't move. He glares at Melanie, but then realizes-- It's Oliver. "Let me go!" he demands.

"I don't think that would be wise," Oliver says. He turns to the other David. "David, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the other David says. "Just-- Wasn't ready."

Dvd gives the other David a reassuring touch, then walks around the table and sits next to David. "David," he says. "I love you. You know I love you."

David's too hurt and angry to accept that. "If you loved me, you wouldn't have left!"

"I've been right here the whole time!" Dvd says, upset. "Do you have any idea what it was like for me after the monster ripped us apart? After he stole all the memories that make you you? No, you don't, because you didn't exist for ten years! I was trapped in our body, forced to watch as that half of you--" He points at the other David. "--was tortured! For ten years!" His eyes shine with unshed tears. "And I couldn't do a single goddamn thing to let you know I was there. I couldn't--"

He cuts off, overwhelmed.

"The only thing that ever mattered to me was loving you," he continues. "I loved you more than anything, more than the world or myself, and-- You know what? That was bad, David. It was bad for you and it was bad for me. Not loving you but-- Everything else. I'm a person too, you know that? I matter too. I exist for myself, and I have just as much right to be in the world as you and Divad. And I will always love you and always do everything I can to take care of you but I gotta take care of myself too and that's boundaries and you're gonna learn them!"

David stares at Dvd, speechless.

Dvd looks away, embarrassed, and then-- leans forward and gives David a tight, rough hug. David's so startled that he doesn't try to hug back until Dvd has already let him go. And then he realizes that Oliver stopped restraining him.

He doesn't reach for the other David now that he can. He doesn't do anything, he just-- Doesn't know what to do, what to think, how to feel about-- Any of this.

"I don't even know if you're real," he says, voice strained.

"You know I'm real," the other David says, certain. "You know, David."

"Yeah, well, apparently knowing means shit," David says, tersely. "Maybe I don't want you. Maybe-- It doesn't matter if you're real or not because--" His breath catches. "I'm not. I'm just--" He gives a bitter laugh. "The monster made me to torture you. Right? I know." There's a manic edge to him now but he can't stop it. "I know what it does better than anyone. They could leave, they could-- Run away to their bedroom but I--" He chokes again, hot tears in his eyes. "My system knew I couldn't be saved. My system knew that. I shouldn't be here."

He should be nothing. He should be a wasted, shrivelled thing tucked in the corner of their mind forever. The monster's trophy hung on the wall. Amahl should've let him die.

He presses his wrists against his body again, furious that the scars are gone. Those are his scars, they're his proof of what a useless piece of shit he is, they're his proof that Dvd and Divad were right to leave. Fuck the monster for taking them away from him!

"You're angry?" Dvd says. "Good! Be angry!"

"Shut up!" David yells.

"Make me!" Dvd yells back.

"This is why you're not him!" David yells. "My Dvd would never treat me this way!"

"Yeah, I was a real idiot," Dvd says.

David scowls at him. "Maybe the monster made you to torture me."

Dvd does not look impressed. "I had to listen to that half of you tell me I'm not real for way too long to have to put up with it from you."

David can't even begin to process that. "Leave me alone," he whines.

"Not a goddamn chance," Dvd declares.

"You're a stress response!" David yells. "People don't go on dates with stress responses!"

Dvd just laughs. "You're a stress response too. You're the biggest stress response."

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

David scowls at Dvd. He wants to stay angry, he's trying really hard to stay angry and upset, but-- Dvd's just so ridiculous--

Dvd snorts. "You're ridiculous."

"Am not," David mutters.

"Are too," Dvd says, and smirks.

David fights the urge to smile back. He's not going to-- Engage with this whole ridiculous-- Everything! Nothing makes sense, he doesn't know what to feel about anything, it's all just-- It's crazy, it's all crazy, and he should know because he's crazy!

"Forget about real," Dvd says, calmer now. "Just throw it out, okay? Fuck real, we're here. We thought we lost you and you thought you lost us, but we're all here and that's-- It's a fucking miracle, okay? Let's just-- Eat some food together and be happy for five seconds before the shit beetle fucks it up again."

David blinks. "Shit beetle?"

"It's what I call the monster now," Dvd says. "C'mon, that food's smelling pretty good, right? Must be almost ready."

It does smell good. Not-- Exactly like Amahl's food but--

His stomach grumbles noisily.

Dvd smiles. "Told ya."

David meets his eyes, and-- There's so much love in them, he just--

He leans closer and-- Dvd reaches up and-- Cups his cheek, and it's so tender-- David's heart hurts. And he's certain that Dvd's going to kiss him, and he holds his breath--

But Dvd only rests his forehead against David's. David doesn't need powers to feel his yearning. Or maybe it's just his own.

And then Dvd pulls away.

"Dinner," Dvd says, firmly but with rough emotion.

Chapter 182: Day 14: Whole. Just for a moment. (David)

Notes:

I'm back! Quarantine knocked me down hard for a while, but after much work I'm feeling better and able to write again. Hopefully I'll be able to keep making progress and posting chapters.

Chapter Text

David stands at the service window and stares at the tray of food. He grabs the tray but doesn't pick it up, he just--

He told everyone he needed a moment, after-- The shame attack. Just to catch his breath. But it's been a few moments and he's still trying to catch it.

He forces himself to move. He takes the tray over to the tables by the window, to Cary and Kerry and Syd. As he puts down Kerry and Cary's food, he moves it to the astral plane.

"I'll get the rest," he tells them. Kerry ordered a few things, and-- There's Syd's food. Syd reaches for him as he goes, but he can't--

He gets the other tray, brings it to them. Moves Kerry's food to the astral plane. Almost moves Syd's food to the astral plane before he realizes.

"David," Syd says, and touches his arm. David almost drops his physicality, still on edge after Past David-- But then-- He remembers.

Touch is never a small thing, for Syd.

She slides over and gestures for him to sit. He glances back at the center table, at Melanie and Oliver relaxed and chatting, at Past David-- As relaxed as it's possible to get him. Dvd working hard to keep him engaged and calm and Divad-- Divad looks back at David, trying not to be worried.

Divad's a worrier.

David sits. Kerry's already eating, but Syd and Cary both look at him, waiting for him to speak. But the words don't come, so he gestures for them to go ahead. He leans back against the booth and watches them eating and just-- Breathes.

He's loved and there's no shame in love. He's strong enough to heal.

When he's ready, he offers Syd his hand and she takes it. The warmth of her seeps through the thin, soft cloth of her glove. He tentatively reaches out his mind to hers, just barely touching, asking-- Is this okay?

He feels her welcoming response, and his mind rests against hers, like-- Mentally holding hands. He feels Divad's mind reaching out to his, and he welcomes him, and-- David breathes out, eases.

He can do this. He's not doing any of this alone. He's loved and he is love, and he can heal and he is healing. He gathers the strength Syd and Divad both gave him, and stands, letting go of Syd's hand, and goes back to get the rest of the food.

It takes a few trips, and then he sits down next to Past David, across from Dvd. He moves his own and Dvd's food to the astral plane and then--

They all eat. The food is good and warm, even though it's astral food. It helps David feel soothed and grounded and restored.

He can do this. He needs to do this, he wants to do this. Past David's going to be back in their system soon, an identity all his own, and maybe one day David and Past David will fuse and then--

And then David will truly be David. But he can't take on twenty years all at once. He needs-- Baby steps. Baby steps got him a lot father than he ever expected. This is just another baby step.

He offers his hand to Past David. "Ready if you are," he says, as lightly as he can.

Past David glances around, checking that no one will stop him. And then he takes David's hand.

It's not as bad as before, when Past David grabbed him during the shame attack. And this time he's prepared, braced against Past David's emotions. The pull to let their soul reunite is strong, but not overpowering.

When he opens his eyes, everyone is watching them. David breathes out and nods to show he's okay, and they relax.

No one needs to ask if Past David is okay. Every time they hold hands, Past David feels better, feels the love David has built up inside. And David feels the fear and pain and grief and shame built up in Past David.

It might not be so hard to take if it didn't all feel so familiar.

But they're not here for the pain. They're here for Dvd. David tries to let down his defenses, to let Past David's feelings mix with his feelings, to let Past David's thoughts merge with his thoughts. To experience, just for a while, what it will feel like to be whole.

"David?" Dvd says, softly, hopeful. Needing.

The need that answers him is so much stronger than David expected. David thought it would feel like his love for Syd, but-- This is so much deeper, older, more layered, more like-- How he feels for Amy. It feels like there should be years and years of memories attached to these feelings, but only Past David has those.

It feels like David's known Dvd forever. It feels like-- Like he missed him so much it gutted him to be apart, like his heart was ripped out of his chest and for months there's just been this gaping wound nothing could fill and now--

David starts to let go, but Past David's grip is strong. David could force them apart, with his powers it would be easy, but-- He forces himself not to. This is how David feels, this is how a whole, healed David will feel. He needs to stay with the feeling.

"Take your time," Oliver soothes. He turns. "Syd, could you order tea and coffee for us?"

Syd gets up and goes over to the service window and places the order. And it's not just Past David's feelings for Dvd coming across, but-- His feelings for Syd, new and confused and wanting and betrayed and--

Focus. Focus on Dvd.

"Um, Dvd," David starts, a little desperately. 'Help?' he thinks to him.

Dvd panicks. 'Help?' he thinks to Oliver.

Oliver's just amused. "Why do I deny manna to another?" he asks. "Because I deny it to myself. Why have I denied myself? What other has rejected me?"

David stares, both of him confused, and he wonders if Oliver's having another poetry memory.

"You are so beloved," Oliver continues. "So sweetened, so recalled to your true loveliness." He turns to Melanie. "Allen Ginsburg. Sather Gate Illumination, slightly paraphrased. Ginsberg said he was inspired by Walt Whitman. Do you like poetry, Melanie?"

Melanie seems just as startled as David is. "I'm not sure."

"So much of the universe is beyond the descriptions of dry prose," Oliver declares. "Life itself is poetry, the soul is a song. Reality is a dance of atoms and perceptions."

Melanie's lips curls with amusement. “Il n'y a de réalité que dans l'action."

Oliver raises his eyebrows. "You know French?"

'Of course I know French. Amahl--' Melanie thinks, and David feels her pangs of longing in small ripples. "'There is no reality except in action,'" she translates, instead of answering Oliver. "Satre, I believe."

"Ah, Satre," Oliver muses. "'We are nothing but what we make of ourselves.' An existentialist. The world is absurd, and only the authentic life is worth living. But how do we know who we are? 'Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.'"

Melanie considers that. "Rumi?"

Oliver nods.

"A sufi mystic," Melanie says. "Do you see yourself as a teacher, sharing divine light from your heart?"

"I've recently been confronted with quite a few of my mistakes," Oliver replies. "Let's say that-- I've been brought down to earth."

"Icarus on the ground?" Melanie says, with another amused curl of her lips.

"Wings quite melted," Oliver agrees. "But the wiser for it. 'The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing.'"

Melanie laughs, delighted.

David exchanges a confused glance with Dvd. He doesn't know how he expected this whole date thing to go, but he didn't expect this.

Syd interrupts, bringing over a tray of mugs. She passes them out, then puts a hand on David's shoulder, silently asking-- You okay?

David meets her eyes and nods. Somehow, Melanie and Oliver enjoying themselves-- It takes some of the pressure off for the date to work. Dvd's more relaxed, too.

Syd asks him to move Kerry and Cary's drinks to the astral plane, and then she heads back to her table. David sees that Kerry and Cary are working on their notebooks, then focuses back on Dvd. He quirks a smile, and Dvd quirks one back, and then he feels a soft, relieved, wary burst of love from Past David.

David ducks his head, suddenly shy and needing. He resists the urge to fight these feelings. They're his feelings, they've always been his. He needs to take them back. Fuck the shit beetle, he-- He loves Dvd. He refuses to let Farouk take this away from them.

David reaches across the table and offer his hand, and Dvd takes it, holds it, and David feels Dvd's love grow stronger.

"I missed you so much," David says, even though he can't remember missing Dvd. He just feels that he missed him.

"Yeah," Dvd says roughly, looking between David and Past David, back and forth. He looks at his and David's joined hands, then reaches out and offers his other hand to Past David.

Past David hesitates, but David nods, encouraging. "It's okay," David soothes.

Past David cautiously takes Dvd's hand, and then David can feel him relaxing. At first Past David's relief is small, then it rushes out in a wave that has David blinking back tears. He has Dvd back, after so much waiting and pain he has him back.

He meets Dvd's eyes, and everything he feels is beyond words. They could just stare into each other's eyes for hours, like-- Like he used to do with Syd. They could just be together and feel this love they share and-- And that could be all they'd ever need.

Except it's not. It wasn't with Syd and it's not with Dvd. David knows that, but-- Past David doesn't, not yet. They need to teach him. Even though this is about David feeling what Past David feels-- It's also about what Past David feels. What Dvd feels.

David thinks of how Past David called Dvd a stress response, and how-- So much of Dvd's therapy has been about moving away from that. Accepting himself as a full person, with his own hopes and dreams and healthy boundaries. David doesn't want Dvd to be set back when they bring Past David into their system.

'I'm not used to you protecting me,' Dvd thinks to David, shy but pleased.

'Get used to it,' David thinks back, and feels more certain that this is the right choice. He telepathically tells Oliver what he wants to do, and Oliver agrees. He has a silent exchange with Melanie, and then Melanie turns to Dvd.

"So Dvd," Melanie says, and stirs her tea. "I understand you're interested in travelling the world. Seeing the sights?"

"Yeah," Dvd says, and David can feel his excitement and nervousness. "It's, uh, not so much the sights as-- Making new friends and--" He meets Past David's eyes. "Learning how to be a person."

Past David's mood shifts, disturbed. David holds firm against it. He's happy for Dvd, he wants this.

"Would you like to travel too, David?" Oliver asks Past David.

"Uh, I don't--" Past David starts, struggling. 'Maybe-- To the places Amahl talked about?'

"And what places were those?" Oliver asks, responding to his thought.

Past David gives him a wary look, then looks at Melanie. 'Does she-- Remember?'

"I remember," Melanie says, warmly. Oliver must be relaying Past David's thoughts to her. "Morocco, China, France, Germany, Iran-- Amahl and I are very well-travelled." She falters, uncertain, but covers it quickly.

"As was I," Oliver says. "I think travel is an excellent idea. Broadens the mind, opens up countless possibilities." He pauses. "Which was your favorite?"

"Well, it's hard to choose," Melanie protests. She gets a distant look in her eyes; she must be remembering. "There's China, of course. That's where Amahl and I met. He rather swept me off my feet." She smiles fondly. "But I think my favorite was New Zealand. We went there to meet his family. Lovely people, very warm, and it was so beautiful and peaceful. I was half-tempted for us to stay there."

Oliver's expression is impressively restrained. "His family, you say? Tell me about them."

"Well, there were his sisters, Nora and Maggie, they were so sweet, and his parents, Ted and Katherine." She frowns. "No, that can't be right. Amahl's mother is Masoumeh." 'Damn it,' she thinks.

"Ted and Katherine were my parents," Olive says, kindly. "I only recently remembered them myself. My family, the place I grew up. But you're right. We were very happy there."

Melanie gives the faintest nod, then looks away.

Oliver turns to Dvd. "Speaking of travel, have you told David about our tropical vacation?"

"Oh! Yeah," Dvd says, excited. "Once, uh-- The monster's gone, we're gonna go on vacation."

Past David stares at him. "Vacation?" he echoes, uncertain.

"You know, chill out, have fun in the sun, get fruity drinks in coconuts," Dvd says. "Sounds like fun, right?"

Past David keeps staring at him, then shakes his head. "But the monster--"

"Yeah?" Dvd says. "What about it?"

Past David glances around at everyone. He frowns, confused. "Why would it be gone?"

"Because we're gonna stop it," Dvd says, confident. "Destroy it. Kill it. It's never gonna hurt us again, ever."

It's always hard to bear it when Past David yearns for Amahl. It's even worse that he feels upset at the idea of the monster's death-- Even though he's still refusing to accept that Amahl is the monster.

David's revulsion must be strong enough for Past David to feel it. He turns to David, but David doesn't know what to say. David feels Past David's feelings roil with confusion and upset and-- Bewilderment. And then that bewilderment becomes the strongest feeling.

"But you can't," Past David says, finally.

"Of course we can," Dvd says.

"No," Past David insists. He turns to Oliver. "It's impossible."

"Is it?" Oliver asks. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure!" Past David says. He looks to Divad, to Dvd. "You'll just make it angry."

"David," Oliver says, in a soothing tone. "Didn't you accept that Amahl killed the monster?"

"And he was wrong!" Past David says, his grip on David's hand tight. "It was just another trick. It's always a trick. And then every time it's worse and--" He cuts off, terrified, and gives them a pleading look. 'Please don't make it angry.'

"David," David says, gently. He lets go of Dvd and holds Past David's hand in both his hands. "We can stop him. We're strong enough to stop him, I promise."

"No," Past David whispers, shaking his head.

"Feel how I feel," David tells him, summoning all his confidence, all his certainty that they'll be able to stop Farouk once and for all. All his faith in his friends, his family, his system, himself. His faith in himself to be strong enough to say NO. NO NO NO NO NO.

"No," Past David whispers, but it's weaker, less certain. He lets go of Dvd and holds David's hands with both hands, sudden need pouring off him.

"Just feel it," David says, and focuses on that strength, that defiance and hope and love. The same love that gave him the strength to take Past David's hand. The hope for the future that Lenny gave him so he could write down 'Tropical vacation' on his to-do list.

Past David goes quiet, soaking up David's feelings like the driest sponge. David keeps feeling all those positive things as strongly as he can, bolstered by Dvd and Divad's mind reaching out in support. And slowly, Past David's grip starts to ease, and David feels that hope spark in Past David and come back to him.

"Yeah," David whispers, and smiles. "That's it. Feels good, right?"

Past David breaks into a shaky, teary smile. He nods, then gasps. 'No,' he thinks, echoing David's defiance. 'It won't hurt us again, it won't-- We can stop it, we can-- Oh god!'

And then Past David breaks into tears and clings to David, sobbing. David holds him, hushes him, keeps feeling all his love and defiance and hope, while Dvd and Divad share their love and defiance and hope with him. And for a long moment, they're all feeling it together, and--

It's like when they all felt love for Kerry together. Like sharing their body and eating cherries in their childhood home with Syd. It makes them feel--

Whole. Just for a moment.

And then the moment ends, and they come back to themselves, worn from the intense emotion but-- Calmed, too.

Past David's hold on David eases, and he pulls back, takes David's hand again, his grip easy. He leans back against his chair and wipes the tears from his face. He breathes, breathes, overcome.

"Take your time," Oliver soothes.

Melanie puts a comforting hand on Past David's arm. Past David meets her eyes and then-- She hugs him, and he hugs her back, rests in her embrace with one arm stretched back to keep hold of David's hand.

"Everything's going to be all right," Melanie soothes, and David feels Past David's answering thrill of hope.

There's pain, too, and fear. In some ways, the hope makes the pain and fear worse. David knows that all too well. And he knows Farouk feasts on that hope, that it's-- What did he call it? Salt for David's despair.

But they need that hope anyway. They need it so they can fight back and win. David refuses to let it die, not in himself and not in Past David.

"So, uh," Dvd says, voice rough. "How you feel about that vacation now?"

Past David lets go of Melanie and meets Dvd's eyes. "It's um-- Probably still impossible," he says, shakily.

"But no longer definitely impossible?" Oliver asks.

Past David considers the question, then shakes his head, agreeing. He feels a wave of terror in answer to his hope, but that wave doesn't wipe the hope away. It stands like a lighthouse in Past David's heart, small and bright against the darkness.

"I never thought--" Past David says, turning back to David. "How did you--"

"Mostly I, uh, let other people hope for me," David admits. "And then one day-- There it was."

Past David stares at him, clearly unable to take that in. Then he looks at Dvd and Divad. "It's really-- You're really you?" he asks.

"We're really us," Divad says, voice tight with emotion. "We're your system, we love you, David. We love you so much."

David can feel Past David struggling to accept that. Even all that shared hope isn't quite enough to overcome Farouk's brainwashing. But Past David is trying to believe it, he wants to believe it so much it hurts.

He wants his system back. He wants the monster to be stopped. He's just so afraid.

Past David slumps, and David can feel they've pushed him as far as they can right now. David takes Past David's hand and guides it to his mug, lets him go, breaking their connection. The tea's gone cold, so David heats it back up, and Past David picks it up, holds it close, breathing the steam.

Dvd heats up everyone else's mug, and they have a quiet moment together.

"Not bad," Oliver says, referring to his coffee. "But I do recall Cary helped me build a fantastic coffee maker."

Melanie frowns, thoughtful. "Is that-- Something to do with cranes?"

"Oh yes," Oliver says. "I've always been rather fond of parables."

Melanie takes a sip of her coffee, sighs. "Yes, I think you are."

Oliver raises his eyebrows, curious, but merely takes another sip.

David holds his mug and closes his eyes, checks in on how he feels. Exhausted, determined, vaguely triumphant. That moment of wholeness still echoes inside him, lingering, and Divad and Dvd's love lingers, too.

Dvd. David looks at him, meets his eyes.

How does he feel about Dvd now? Without Past David?

Maybe it's just-- More lingering feelings, but--

He thinks he did miss Dvd. Like he missed sharing without knowing it. Some part of him really did remember Dvd, remembered loving him and being loved by him. That part of him never stopped loving Dvd. And now here they are, finally back together and--

Dvd's expression softens, hearing all that. His eyes fill with love, with open vulnerability.

David puts down his mug and reaches out his hand, and Dvd takes it. Dvd's hand is warm, strong.

"Dvd," David starts, stomach fluttering. "Can I-- Kiss you?"

"Fuck yeah," Dvd says, strongly, and then flushes, self-conscious. He glances at Past David, but then turns back to David, determined. Then he hesitates, uncertain.

David's certain. He stands up, and then Dvd stands up, mirroring him, and then they both step forward and--

It's a little strange, kissing a man, kissing-- Himself. But his body seems to remember how it works, even though he can't. The kiss is tentative, then needing, then tentative again, and then-- They break it and rest their foreheads together and--

"I missed you so much," David says, and feels it all on his own.

Chapter 183: Day 14: You can also be whole, if you make the choice. (David)

Chapter Text

David doesn't want the date to end. He feels almost-- Stupidly happy, just sitting with Dvd and gazing into each other's eyes and feeling each other's feelings. Loving each other and feeling loved.

He missed Dvd. He missed him so much. And now he knows it and they're taking back what they lost, and it just feel so good. It makes him feel like nothing else matters.

"David?" Melanie says, and David turns. But she's not talking to him. She and Oliver are standing and she's holding out her hand to Past David. He stands and takes it, then then-- Looks at David.

A spike of jealousy breaks through the haze of love. And then once it's broken, David feels another wave of jealousy and turns to look at Syd. She's standing by the glass doors, looking out, her back to the room and to him.

He hears her thoughts. She's telling herself she has to accept this. Dvd is a permanent part of David's life, if she wants to be with him she has to accept this. But she's struggling, radiating unhappiness.

Damn it. Why can't anything in his life be simple?

There's a wave of annoyance, and David turns back to find Dvd's unhappy too now, and glaring at Syd. But then he sees David's focused on him again and relaxes, starts loving him again, defiant.

But David turns away, stands, struggles to-- Figure out what to do.

"Ah, David," Cary says, breaking his thoughts. "I need to give this notebook to Oliver. Would you mind?" He holds out an astral notebook.

"Oh, sure," David says, and takes it. At least he can handle this, being some kind of-- astral-physical courier. Maybe this should be his job. It takes enormous mutant powers but absolutely no mental effort, perfect for someone as powerfully useless as him.

Fuck. No, he refuses to have a shame attack now. He doesn't have to hurt himself and he never did. He doesn't have to hurt himself and he never did. He's loved and there's no shame in love.

A few steps and he hands the notebook to Oliver.

"Thank you," Oliver says, and tucks the notebook under his arm. "Doctor Orwell is expecting us. She has a plan to separate Cary and Kerry's soul from yours." 'And it's time we reached out to Farouk,' he adds, telepathically.

"Oh, right!" David says. He totally forgot about that. Unsurprisingly.

"Dvd, Divad," Oliver says. "Would you two mind taking Melanie and David back to the lab? I'm sure this won't take long."

"Sure," Divad says. 'Be careful,' he thinks to David, worried.

Past David is focused on Dvd, all longing and need. But he keeps hold of Melanie's hand as the four of them walk out into the hall.

Syd starts to follow them, but Oliver intervenes. "Ah, Syd, Doctor Orwell needs you as well. For another treatment session."

"Right," Syd says. She turns and meets David's eyes, but neither of them speaks.

Oliver leads him, Syd, Cary, and Kerry to the research lab. Doctor Orwell happily greets Cary and Kerry, then gets to work. The Admiral is already there, ready for the swap, as are Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny's androids. Syd takes her usual spot, pulls off her gloves, and waits calmly as they wire her up. These therapy swaps must be becoming routine for her.

Hopefully they won't need to do them for much longer.

The swap starts.

'What next?' David asks Oliver, privately.

'The psychic surgery should go smoothly,' Oliver says. 'But even a completely successful operation will leave your system unstable. The crown will be necessary.'

'And I'll be helpless,' David says, unhappily.

'We must protect you. The Admiral believes the best way to improve the odds is to capture Farouk now,' Oliver explains. 'Draw him out, distract him, then execute the same plan we did with Melanie.'

'Syd swap,' David recalls.

'He'll be briefly unconscious, easy enough to disable his powers and imprison him.'

'But didn't he hijack Syd's powers last time?' David asks. He wasn't awake for that, but Farouk hopped out of him and Syd, and then body hopped all the way to Oliver without anyone actually swapping.

'That was before he had his body back,' Oliver points out. 'Then he was a parasitic soul. Now he's not.'

'And how good are the odds for this plan?' David asks, warily.

'Not as good as we'd like,' Oliver admits. 'But Farouk's body is invulnerable. Our only options are: overpower him with a direct assault, find a way around his psychic defenses, or we simply separate his mind from his body.'

'Let's do the direct assault.' Dvd will love that.

'A great risk when your soul is in such a precarious state,' Oliver says. 'And as of yet we have no way around his psychic defenses.'

'I hate all of this.' David sighs. 'Maybe we should hold off on the surgery.'

'That would give Farouk the opportunity to reunite your soul on his terms,' Oliver warns. 'Past David would fuse with you instead of becoming his own identity, or identities. Are you prepared to be reborn?'

'You guys really thought all this through,' David says, dryly.

'Yes,' Oliver says. 'But the decision must be yours.'

David considers all of that. The risks. Everything's risky. Farouk created this situation to make them afraid, to keep them from thinking clearly, to force them into a corner. Without Ptonomy's plan for quarantining Past David, the only choice they would have would be fusion. David would have to choose to take all that pain and confusion or else his soul would force him to take it.

It might not be perfect, but this is still the best plan they have.

'Fine,' David decides. 'We trap him, then we fix me, then we kill him.'

'Excellent,' Oliver says.

'So how do we get him here?' David asks.

'Wait for the swap to finish. Then follow my lead.'

They wait. Syd releases the swap, and Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny return to their androids.

"Wait there," Doctor Orwell says, when Syd starts to get up. "We'd like to run a few more scans."

Syd sighs and leans back.

"Doctor Orwell," Oliver says. "We should discuss the surgery."

"Oh, absolutely," Doctor Orwell says. "Syd, give us a minute?"

"Sure," Syd says.

"Has there been any progress with Cary's body?" Oliver asks. "We were hoping to move Cary and Kerry's soul there."

"I'm afraid not," Doctor Orwell says. "Typically this type of brain damage is irreversible. Obviously with mutant powers, that doesn't have to be the case. We're hoping Divad can do something, but his healing powers are purely internal. Though perhaps--"

"Yes?" Oliver prompts.

"The gene gun could revert Cary's body to its earlier state," Doctor Orwell says. "At least we think it could. We're not sure that a physical projection would respond to the gene gun the way a regular body would, and without the gene gun we have no way to test that. In fact, we have no way to restore Kerry's body either."

"We can't keep Kerry and Cary in Past David's empty body?" Amy asks.

"What?" Kerry says, alarmed. "I don't wanna be in the wrong body!"

"It could work as a short-term solution," Doctor Orwell offers. "But there are a lot of potential issues with that kind of mismatch. It might be safer to move their soul to the mainframe and freeze Past David's body."

'That's your cue,' Oliver tells David.

David works up his emotions. It's not hard. "No, that's--" he starts, tersely. "Kerry's right. We can't have everyone stuck in the mainframe."

"Yeah!" Kerry says. "Gimme my body back!"

"I'm afraid without the gene gun, we don't have a choice," Oliver says, regretful.

"Then we get the damn gun," David says. "We know where it is."

"I hardly think Farouk will simply give it back," Cary cautions.

"Oh, he'll give it back," David challenges. "I'm gonna-- I'll make him give it back."

"Yeah!" Kerry agrees, eager. Then she gives him a curious look. "You will?"

David reminds himself that can do this. He can be more than just-- An astral-physical courier. A glorified mutant messenger boy. He's fought Farouk before and won. Farouk only gets away with his tricks because they're tricks. David's stronger than him and he refuses to be afraid of-- Of the shit beetle.

Farouk wants him to play the hero? He'll be the hero.

"I will," David says, firmly, answering Kerry and himself. "I have my powers back, right? It's time I stopped-- Waiting around for him to fuck all of us over again." Yes. That feels right. Fuck the shit beetle. David refuses to be his victim.

"Yeah, okay," Kerry says, somewhat convinced. "But how? We can't even find him."

"He's gonna come to us," David declares. "He's already listening. That's what he does, right? Spies on me all the time? He just can't look away. So hey!" he calls at the air. "Amahl Farouk! Shit beetle! I'm calling you out!"

Nothing happens.

"Um," Kerry starts, skeptical again.

'Tapeworm!' David calls, projecting out his thoughts like he did when he was working with Farouk. And thinking about that reminds him of what Farouk did to Amy, makes him even angrier. 'Parasite! Asshole!'

'You're upset.'

The intimacy of Farouk's telepathic reply startles David, unsettles him. He knew Farouk was watching, obviously he knew that, but having it confirmed--

'He's here?' Oliver thinks to him.

'Yes,' David thinks back. God, he just wants to voicelessly rage at Farouk for everything, but he has to stay focused. Angry but focused. "You know what I want. Give it back, now."

'My dear, let us speak,' Farouk replies.

David feels the familiar pull of the astral plane, an invitation to whatever private space Farouk's constructed there. He refuses it.

"No," David says, firmly. "I'm not going anywhere. You're coming here, right now!"

"If you insist," Farouk says, suddenly there, just a few feet behind him.

David somehow manages to not startle, and rounds on Farouk. "The gene gun. Give it to me," he demands.

"Yeah, give it back!" Kerry says, backing him up. She glares at Farouk, her fists curled. Cary takes a few steps back, afraid.

"Look who finally showed his face," Lenny says, matching Kerry's glare. Beside her, Amy's doing her best to be defiant but-- David can see she's afraid.

"Ladies," Farouk greets them, mildly.

Damn it. David didn't think about-- Farouk murdered Ben in front of her, tortured her with that gene gun. They should've sent Amy away with Melanie and Past David.

'She'll be fine,' Divad thinks to him. 'Focus on Farouk.'

But it's Farouk who focuses on David. He turns to him and takes a step closer. David fights the urge to take a step back by stepping forward and glaring at Farouk with everything he has.

Farouk just smiles. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the gene gun. "This is what you want, yes?"

David grabs for the gun, but Farouk pulls it away. "Ah ah," Farouk chides. "Say 'please.'"

David grinds his teeth and says nothing.

"Please," Oliver says, calmly.

"Ah, my friend," Farouk says, turning to Oliver. "It's good to see you restored. In our bodies, we feel ourselves again."

"And do you feel yourself?" Oliver asks.

"Always," Farouk says, with a salesman smile.

"Give it back," Kerry demands again.

Farouk rounds on her, and suddenly he's all menace. Kerry takes an alarmed step back, and David moves between them.

"Don't touch her," David warns.

"Or what?" Farouk asks, mildly. He takes a step forward, reaches up to touch David's cheek, and David startles back and bumps into Kerry.

David flushes, humiliated, feeling completely useless. And Farouk's barely done anything.

'We're stronger than him,' Dvd reminds him. 'All he’s got is tricks. Fuck the shit beetle!'

'Fuck the shit beetle,' David thinks back, and gathers his courage.

"It's good that you asked to see me," Farouk says. "We should have one last time together, to say goodbye."

"Because I'm going to kill you?" David challenges.

"Oh, my sweet boy," Farouk says, full of pity. False pity.

"What's this about?" Ptonomy asks.

'Turn him this way,' Oliver tells David. 'Get his back to Syd.'

"Ah, I thought you understood," Farouk says. "Soon you will also be restored, mind and body. And then this--" He reaches out to David again, and again David steps back. "This delusion will end."

"You're the delusion," Lenny mutters.

Farouk flashes a smirk, but doesn't reply to her. His eyes, hidden behind his sunglasses, are fixed on David. "You prayed be made whole. It was all you wished for. How could I deny you? But the gods always demand a sacrifice. Every sunrise must have a sunset."

"I'm not your sunrise," David says, refusing to let Farouk get to him. He belongs to himself. He takes a few paces away, then steps back, but to the left, so Farouk has to turn. "And I'm not your son."

Farouk puts his empty hand over his heart. "Ah, you break a father's heart."

"Fuck you," David snarls.

"I will miss this," Farouk sighs. "Our little tête à tetes. But all this-- Love and healing-- Such inspiration!"

"I will never love you," David declares. "I don't care what you did to me in my dreams. It wasn't real and it will never be real."

Out of the corner of his eye, David sees Syd creeping towards Farouk, her bare hand extended, but then-- She freezes mid-step. She's stuck.

Farouk sighs. "Such dramatics. How predictable."

'Damn it,' Syd thinks.

'I can't move!' Kerry thinks, scared and upset.

'I'm sorry,' Oliver thinks to David.

David looks around at everyone and realizes-- "You froze them." But he can still move.

Farouk gives a dismissive wave. "Ants. It's childish, this need you have for them. Perhaps I should destroy this." His grip tightens on the gene gun.

"Don't!" David says, reaching for it again. Farouk pulls it away, but then-- Puts it into David's hands.

"Another gift," Farouk says. "I am always generous."

David look down at the gun, honestly surprised that Farouk handed it over. He narrows his eyes, suspicious. "What'd you do? Booby trap it?"

"Save them if you must," Farouk says. "Soon they will be irrelevant and you will leave them behind."

"Never," David declares.

Farouk steps closer, but this time David refuses to step back. Farouk touches his cheek, and David refuses to flinch. He glares into Farouk's sunglasses, at his own reflection.

"Such fire," Farouk says, pleased. "Beautiful. I will miss you, my dear."

David thinks, for a moment, that Farouk is going to try to kiss him. But then Farouk steps away and turns to Kerry, then to Cary.

"You can also be whole," Farouk tells him. "If you make the choice."

And then Farouk vanishes and everyone else can move again.

"I'm sure he hasn't gone far," Oliver says, and looks around warily.

"We got the gun!" Kerry says, relieved. She tries to take it from David but her hands go right through. "Fix us now!"

"What did he mean?" Cary asks. "If we make the choice?"

"He was just messing with your head," Lenny says.

"Let me take a look," Ptonomy says. David hands him the gun and he inspects it. "There's already something in the chamber. Genetic material? Doctor Orwell?"

"We'll test it right away," Doctor Orwell says. She takes the gun from Ptonomy and hands it off to her team. Kerry joins them, watching the gun like a hawk, and Cary follows her.

Amy walks up to David and hugs him, without a word. She's trembling. He holds her close, finally feeling how shaken up he is, too. He hates that Farouk is probably still right here in this room, watching them like the creep he is. But good, let him watch. Let him see what real love looks like and know he'll never have it.

"I'm sorry," Syd says to Oliver.

"It was a long shot," Oliver admits. "But a partial success is better than none."

Lenny gives a non-commital grunt. "I'm not leaving the mainframe until that asshole is dead."

"Let's take this one step at a time," Ptonomy says. "David, are you okay?"

David finally lets go of Amy. "Yeah. Uh. I think." Mostly he just feels-- Extremely creeped out. He rubs at his cheek, where Farouk touched him, trying to push away the memory. He feels tainted there. He shouldn't have let Farouk touch him at all, he just-- Didn't want to be the one to back down.

But Farouk's not afraid of him. Farouk will never be afraid of him. Why would he be?

'We're gonna make him afraid,' Dvd promises him. 'And then we're gonna end him. He's gonna be gone.'

'Yeah,' David thinks back, but wishes he felt more confident.

"Take a moment," Ptonomy tells him. "Do a check in."

"Right," David says, struggling to do just that. God, he just-- His skin is still crawling. Somehow it's just getting worse. Maybe because he knows Farouk is still here, still watching and listening and-- It just-- It makes him so angry.

"I'm angry," he admits to Ptonomy.

"Good, what else?" Ptonomy prompts.

"I'm just-- Really angry," David says, feeling it more now. "Fuck him. He doesn't get to decide who I am!"

"No, he doesn't," Amy agrees, supportive.

"It's my life!" David says, loudly. "It's my mind! I'm not some-- Some thing he can just-- Change."

Except he already did. Farouk already just-- Took him and changed him in so many ways, for his whole life. And what if Ptonomy's plan doesn't work? What if Past David's memories take him over and then--

And then the David he is now ends. Vanishes. And he becomes-- Whatever it is Farouk wants him to be. His son?

David's stomach turns. He swallows against his nausea, but it keeps growing. The tainted feeling keeps radiating out from where Farouk's fingers pressed against his cheek.

'Just breathe,' Divad soothes. 'You're okay. He's gone.'

But Farouk's not gone, he was never gone. He's been here the whole time, watching everything. He's watching this.

Dvd suddenly appears with a bucket. David takes it and turns away, still trying to hold back his stomach until he can't anymore. He falls to his knees and--

A hand touches his back, and he flinches, but the hand stays. "Just let it out," Amy soothes.

David spits out the last of his bile, then pushes away the bucket. He turns and sits, leans back against the wall. He's damp with sweat all over.

Lenny walks over and hands him a bottle of water. He gives her a grateful, tired nod. He sips carefully, sore inside.

"Is that an astral bucket or a real bucket?" Lenny asks.

David gives a weak laugh. "Uh. Astral."

"Great!" Lenny says, brightly.

David lets out another laugh. "My throat hurts." He looks around. Where did Dvd go?

'Back in the lab,' Dvd thinks to him.

'Good,' David thinks back, relieved that Dvd's watching over Past David. And Melanie. God, David just feel so angry about-- All of it. Everything Farouk did to all of them, just to hurt him. Fuck the shit beetle, fuck him.

"Take it easy," Ptonomy says. "I know it's been a long day, but-- We have everything we need to put you and the Karies back together."

"I don't want to be together," David says, anger pushing out the words. "That's what he wants!"

"It'll be okay," Ptonomy soothes. "Farouk's wrong. You're strong enough to heal, remember?" 'We're going to keep you you,' he says through the mainframe link.

'What if I'm not?' David thinks back to him. Not strong enough. Not himself. He's just-- A tattered quilt, scraps of fake memories badly sewn together. Past David is real and solid and whole. He has twenty years of genuine existence, twenty years that David could never have without-- Becoming someone else.

He doesn't want to be someone else. He wants to be David. But it feels like everything is about to slip through his hands.

"Oh!" Doctor Orwell says, surprised.

"What is it?" Ptonomy says, walking over to her.

"The genetic material," Doctor Orwell says. "It's Cary's."

"Why would he give us that?" Ptonomy wonders. "We already have it. We still have his body."

"But this isn't from his physical projection," Doctor Orwell says. "Look at these readings. It's from his actual body, from before Farouk swapped Cary and Kerry's physical states."

"How the hell did he--" Ptonomy shakes his head. "So this means, what?"

"It means-- We have a choice," Cary says, shocked. He looks to Kerry. "We can choose which of us-- Is going to be outside."

Chapter 184: Day 14: It's time. (David)

Notes:

Back with a bang! We finally reached the big moment, so hold on to your hats.

Chapter Text

The lab is lightly scented with the tang of strawberry daiquiri. David swallows and tastes it in the back of his throat.

The amplification tank is open. Ptonomy and Oliver are working on the tank and the computer equipment, preparing for the psychic surgery. Cary's hovering around them, directing them on all the details, and Kerry is hovering impatiently around Cary.

The gene gun is on the table, emptied out and ready to be used. There's two samples of genetic material waiting beside it, but only one of them will be used to restore Kerry and Cary's body. The question is-- Who will they be?

Salt in the wound. But Farouk's second favorite hobby is rubbing salt into the wounds he makes. His first, obviously, is making them.

David feels like nothing but an open wound, and he's about to jump into the Dead Sea. They're doing what Farouk wants them to do, and David knows that's a mistake, but-- It's what he wants too: to get his memories back, to be whole, to make his system whole. Cary and Kerry want to be whole.

Those should only be good things, but all David feels is dread. And fear and worry and fear and--

There's a touch to his arm and he turns. It's Syd. He looks down and sees her bare hand against his bare forearm, skin against skin.

He looks back up to her face, and she looks-- It reminds him of the first time he touched her on the astral plane, after the shock wore off. He swallows again.

"I like this," Syd says, shyly. "Being able to touch you."

She flashes a tiny smile, and he eases. Lets out a long breath and some of his tension. He puts his other hand over Syd's, feels her feeling him, feels her mind feeling him. Quiet happiness, relief, an undertone of regret. Forgiveness, for him and for herself. Worry, hope.

"It's going to be okay," she tells him, even though she's nervous, too. Even though she doesn't know about Ptonomy's plan. Even though so many things could go wrong.

"Yeah?" David asks, voice rough.

"I know," Syd tells him. She gives his arm a squeeze.

David nods, trying to believe her. "I just-- Wish we'd--" Captured Farouk, stopped him. Killed him in the desert. Told someone about Future Syd. Stayed in Summerland.

"I wish we were safe," he says, voice catching.

"We will be," Syd says, with a certainty he can only envy. "You're not doing this alone, remember? We're gonna protect you."

There's a twinge of fear in her thoughts. David wishes, for a moment, that he was still wearing the crown so he wouldn't-- But then he will be, soon.

"We won't be able to do this for a while," David says, regretful. "Bare skin. Until I'm-- Stable again." And who knows how long that will take? Right now, looking at Past David, the thought of him being okay feels-- Not impossible, but-- So far away.

Melanie's sitting with Past David in one of the loveseats, holding his hand. David thinks of Farouk making a family out of them in the dreams, with Melanie Farouk and Syd Farouk. Is that what Farouk wants, to be a family?

He doesn't want to think about Farouk right now. He doesn't want him in his head. Even though Past David's memories are full of the monster and everything it did to them.

Dissociate. All he has to do is dissociate. Separate himself from the memories and let them be someone else's. They're not his, they don't have to be his until-- He's ready for them. If he ever is.

The door to the lab opens and Clark strides in, tablet in hand. He's not happy, but then he never is. His sudden entrance startles Amy, Lenny, Dvd, and Divad out of the private conversation they've been having through the mainframe. The four of them have been preparing for-- Whatever David's going to be at the other side of this. One traumatized identity or two, or a dozen, or--

"Are you stupid?" Clark says, loudly, to all of them but specifically David. "No, don't answer that."

"Clark," Amy says, stepping forward to intervene.

Clark stops her with a warning glare, then turns back to David. "I let you have your powers back to stop the other half of you from blowing all of us up. You know what that means? It means I'm responsible for everything you screw up. You do not do anything without my explicit approval."

David's first reaction is to point out that confronting Farouk wasn't his idea, but then he realizes-- Clark doesn't know. He can't know, just like Syd can't know, because if they knew then Farouk would know. And no one who does know can explain it because that would be explaining it to Farouk.

David glances at Lenny and Amy and Dvd and Divad, at Oliver and Ptonomy, and of course they realize it, too. He swallows his defense.

"I'm sorry," he says, honestly. "I was-- I'm sick of sitting here while Farouk hurts everyone I care about!"

Clark gives him a familiar look of disdain. 'Why do I keep sticking my neck out for him?' he thinks, annoyed.

"Clark," Amy says, trying again to intervene. "David was just trying to help."

"Yes, and he performed to his usual standards," Clark drawls.

David can't help but wince. Divad and Dvd's frowns deepen.

"The point of all this," Clark says, gesturing at the lab, "is to stop Farouk. Your plan," he says, pointing at Ptonomy, "is supposed to make David capable of stopping Farouk. That was the deal."

"And it's working," Ptonomy says, firmly.

"Because the Admiral says the odds are better?" Clark mocks. "That's not enough for the Division heads. It's not enough for me. I'm putting everything on the line for you people."

"And we appreciate your efforts," Oliver says. "If you have a suggestion for stopping Farouk without David's help, I'm sure we'd all love to hear it."

Clark glares at Oliver, but says nothing. He looks around the room again, this time taking in what's going on instead of looking for someone to yell at. "You're doing the surgery."

"Yes," Oliver says.

"The surgery that's going to leave David unstable and powerless," Clark says.

"Yes," Oliver says. "Unless you prefer to keep his soul in an unstable and potentially explosive state?"

Clark visibly does not prefer that.

"We have the gene gun back," Ptonomy says. "We fix David's soul and fix Cary and Kerry. Then we deal with Farouk."

Clark's not impressed. 'Should've killed them both when I had the chance,' he thinks angrily. 'Should have just--' And then he cuts himself off.

"Clark," Cary says, stepping forward. "I know the risks are terribly high, but-- We need to do this. Please."

"What matters is stopping Farouk," Clark says. "We can't afford for David to be out of commission." He takes a breath. "The Divisions are-- Advising against the surgery."

"We don't need their permission," Kerry mutters.

"Kerry," Cary starts.

"No!" Kerry says. "This is our life, my life! I want my body back!"

"Your body!" Cary protests.

"Yeah, mine!" Kerry says. "It was always supposed to be mine! I'm the one who looks like our parents!"

Cary stares at her, stricken.

"You assholes had your chance," Lenny says to Clark. "Me and David gave you Farouk, gift-wrapped. And you just let him waltz right out of his cell because what? You were afraid of something that was maybe gonna happen in like, twenty years? Bullshit."

"No matter what we do, David's soul will need to reunite, just like Cary and Kerry's," Ptonomy says. "Either we deal with this on our terms or we let Farouk decide, and I don't think the Divisions want that. Right?"

Clark says nothing, but his expression agrees.

"Help us or get out of our way," Ptonomy says. He looks up at a surveillance camera and visibly dares the Divisions to stop them.

"Kerry," Cary says, voice cracking. "What are you saying?"

Kerry's turned away from Cary now, her arms crossed defensively. "You said it. If I was on the outside, everything would've been fine. You said it!"

Cary shakes his head. "I-- I was just--"

Kerry rounds on Cary. "Farouk's the one who wants us to go back! I'm not going back!"

"Kerry," Cary pleads. "Even if we heal my body-- I don't fit inside you! I tried, I truly did, but-- Farouk's the one who changed us in the first place! It's not how we're meant to be."

There are tears in Kerry's eyes. "It's how I was supposed to be!"

Cary stares at her, and then-- "If that's-- How you feel--" He turns to Clark. "Division 4-- I'm sorry, I won't-- I don't think I'll be able to--"

"Cary," Oliver says, concerned.

"You can do it, Oliver," Cary says, sadly hopeful. "It was-- It's your dream anyway. You and Melanie, you're back now, you--"

"Cary, Division 4 needs you," Divad says. "Whatever it takes-- We're here for you. You'll be okay."

But Cary's not listening. He's staring at Kerry as she stares back. And then he turns to Ptonomy. "We've made our decision," he says.

"Kerry's DNA?" Ptonomy asks.

Cary nods.

Ptonomy looks at Cary, at Kerry, and then picks up Kerry's vial from the table and loads it into the gene gun. He walks back to the work area and puts the gun down beside the computer. "Okay. We're almost ready. David?" He looks at both David and Past David. "It's time."

"Cary," Kerry starts, reaching out to him. David can feel her regret, her guilt, but also-- Her determination. She's made her choice.

Cary hesitates, then gives her a sad smile. "I never wanted to stand in your way."

Kerry breaks into tears and hugs Cary tightly. He holds her back, solemn.

David looks across the room to Past David, and wishes he felt as determined as Kerry. But Ptonomy's right. Either they make the choice or Farouk will make it for them.

It's another choice that feels like no choice at all. The knot in David's stomach tightens, but he moves to stand up. He starts to let go of Syd's hands, but she rises with him, holding on.

They face each other. David doesn't know what to say, what he could possibly say. Who will he be at the other end of all this? Will he still love her? Will she still--

And then she hugs him. David's breath catches in surprise, and then he wraps his arms around her ever so carefully, ready to stop the moment she says or even thinks--

But she doesn't. She holds him and he holds her. He feels her breath against his neck, the rise and fall of her chest. She feels so alive.

She eases back and looks at him, and then-- Tilts up her chin and rises up on her toes and her eyes close and--

Their lips touch. There's no explosion of energy, his soul isn't pulled from his body. It's just a kiss, needing and tentative. David's heart still shatters into a thousand pieces, and then somehow pulls itself back together and beats again.

"I'll be right here," Syd murmurs. "Come back to me?"

David swallows. "If I don't-- Find me?"

Syd reaches up and grips her necklace. She opens it, revealing the compass, and the needle points directly at David. Not at Divad, in their system's body, but David's astral projection.

She smiles at him and closes the compass. She lets him go and takes his hand, and together they walk to the amplification tank. Past David is already there, with Melanie beside him.

"So, uh-- Now what?" David asks, and hears the fear in his own voice.

"Now we put you back together," Oliver says. "Once your memories are transferred, I'll sort out your soul."

"Then we take care of you two," Ptonomy says, to Cary and Kerry. "We'll use the gene gun to restore your body before you go back inside it. There's no need for you to experience the physical transformation."

"Oh, good," Kerry says, relieved. "That sounds like it sucks."

Lenny and Amy exchange a knowing look.

"And then what?" Syd asks. "David gets back his memories, and then what?"

"We put the crown back on him and we wait," Ptonomy says. "Twenty years of traumatic memories is a lot to take on. But I honestly believe that no matter what he remembers, David will still be David." He gives David a warm, confident smile.

David musters a wobbly smile back. He has the feeling that if he could hear Ptonomy's thoughts, feel his feelings-- And David's glad he can't.

Lie to me, he thinks to himself. Tell me everything's gonna be okay.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Divad says. 'I mean it,' he thinks, wryly.

"We're gonna make it okay," Dvd says, certain. And he feels certain. But then Dvd is good at feeling what David needs him to feel.

Oliver puts one hand on David's shoulder, and one on Past David's. "'Who loves himself loves me who love myself,'" he quotes. "You are love, David. Both of you. Do not deny yourself that love. Stand before the mirror and love yourself."

David and Past David look at each other. Despite all their differences, when their eyes meet, David only sees himself. Because Past David is himself, his soul stretched in two places at once.

If he accepts himself, all of himself, then-- He will be fully himself, fully David, past and present. Every memory of his life will be his. Every feeling, every wound and scar.

If he's fully himself, will he love Farouk the way Past David loves Amahl? The thought makes his stomach turn, and he looks away.

"David," Past David says. "I, uh--" He swallows nervously. "All this has been-- Really strange and-- It's probably not even real but-- All that time I was in the lab, Amahl's lab-- I just wanted my system back." His eyes flick to Dvd and Divad before turning back to David. "I didn't think it'd be anything like this but--" He touches the college sweatshirt he's still wearing. 'Everything will be like it was,' he thinks to himself. 'But better because-- He's better.' He looks at David again, trusting, needing, hoping.

David doesn't want everything to be like it was. He doesn't want the way their system used to work. It was bad for them, all of them, but-- Past David doesn't understand that.

He looks at Cary and Kerry and understands. He can't go back any more than Kerry can. He needs to be himself. And if that means rejecting Past David's memories, rejecting his own past-- Then that's what he has to do.

He plasters on a smile and hopes it doesn't look too fake. "We're gonna be okay," he tells Past David, lies to him the way he wants everyone to lie to himself, and hopes it's still somehow the truth.

Past David smiles, and it's real. David feels like a fraud.

Divad and Dvd step closer, and Divad hugs David and then Past David, and then Dvd takes his turn. And then Dvd walks into Divad, and they're together in their body.

Dvd and Divad open their arms. David braces himself and walks into their body, their embrace. For a moment, they're just holding him and everything is calm and warm and love, so much love.

They open their eyes.

"Before you start," Amy says, and she walks up and hugs them. Tears well in their eyes as they hold her back.

"I love you," Amy whispers to them. Their throat is too tight to say it back, but they love her so much.

When Amy lets them go, they wipe their eyes. But then Lenny walks up. They expect her to say something cutting or funny, but-- She grabs them in a rough, brief hug. And then she steps back without a word.

Cary and Kerry walk up and hug them in turn. Melanie hugs Past David, and then after hesitating, hugs David's system, too.

And then it's time. They and Past David quickly strip down, and then step into the warm, sweet-strawberry liquid of the amplification chamber. It makes their skin tingle.

"Weird," Past David says.

"Yeah," they agree. They've used the tank a lot but it's still weird.

"Okay, calibration's complete," Ptonomy says. "System's ready."

"Excellent," Oliver says. He crouches beside the tank and looks down at them. "The process is fairly simple. David, with the help of the amplification tank, you'll pull the memories from Past David into yourself. Divad will guide the memories back to the newly-healed areas of your mind where they were before Farouk removed them."

David thinks again of the puzzle piece metaphor, but this time-- of his few pieces being surrounded by the rest, everything being laid into place, forming a whole and complete picture. "Sounds easy."

"It will probably be enormously painful," Oliver admits. "Try not to pass out." And then he grabs the cover of the tank and hauls it closed.

The last thing David sees before the tank closes is Syd, her hand closed around the compass. And then it's just them and Past David and the soft blue light of the tank. Every breath and slosh of liquid is loud in the small space. They taste strawberry at the back of their throat.

"Lie on your back," Divad tells Past David. "We need full exothermic contact."

Past David lies on his back in the liquid.

"Just open your mind," Divad tells Past David.

"I'm coming home," Past David says, with such relief.

"Yeah," Divad says, roughly, and smiles. "C'mon home." And they lie back, too.

The tank powers up, making their skin and mind buzz with energy. David can already feel his powers being stretched, blown up like a balloon. At full strength, he'll feel limitless, the whole universe within his grasp, even as his mind strains to comprehend.

But the only thing he needs to reach for is right here. It's already a part of him, he can feel it.

"Ready?" Ptonomy calls, his voice muffled through the tank cover.

"Ready!" Divad calls back.

"Ready," Past David breathes, like a prayer.

"Open your mind," Divad tells Past David, tells David. And then--

A burst of power pushes David's mind forward. He sees the memories, a night sky full of countless stars and constellations, and reaches for them, and pulls--

Memories flash into his mind, slow at first. Running in the grass-- The stars from his lamp playing across the wall--Mom-- He remembers mommy, reaching down and pulling him up, oh, you're getting so big-- Mommy--

"Mommy," he sobs.

'Keep going,' Divad urges.

David pulls harder. The memories come faster. Sitting with Dad, the warm and bitter smells of coffee and pipe smoke-- Daddy-- The smooth glass of thick telescope lenses-- The rug under his bare feet as he walks through the hall at night, crying from a nightmare-- Amy holding him as he cries-- King running with him by the water--

Another burst of power--

He remembers Dvd laughing about-- Divad wanting to-- The three of them-- The familiar sensation of being together-- He remembers grief-- Mom-- Grief-- Fear-- Fear-- FEAR--

"No!" David sobs.

'Reject it,' Dvd thinks, firmly. 'If it's too much, it's not yours. It's not yours!'

Not his, it's not his. So much awful, overwhelming-- Shame and guilt and fear and disgust and fear and betrayal and-- No, he can't-- It's not his, it's not his--

He thrashes, tastes strawberry, and he's vaguely aware of being pushed back in their body, Dvd taking control of it.

Another burst of power--

Their head is screaming with pain. It's all coming in now, and David only catches flashes before he lets it pass through him. Familiar memories from a different angle-- Not sitting in class but watching Divad sit in class, watching Divad take notes and answer questions-- Crying at night and Dvd soothing him, holding him--

The monster holding him--

No!

Another burst of power--

The monster--

No!

The monster--

NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO--

He's screaming. He knows he's screaming, he can't stop screaming. He feels Divad straining to keep control, their body burning up with fever, Dvd bearing the pain with him. He feels Past David's consciousness growing smaller and smaller as all those puzzle pieces are pulled away from him and snapped into place and then shoved away because NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO--

He doesn't want this, it's not his, he never asked for it, he doesn't want it, it's not his, he never asked for it, he never asked for it--

David feels his own awareness threatening to slip away, to fall into the deep dark of unconsciousness, but he clings on with all his strength, pulling in every last memory, emptying out every scrap of Past David's mind. But there's something stuck, a piece that's stuck, and he pulls harder, harder, refusing to leave even a single memory behind--

And then with a jolt it's free. And Past David rises and turns, eyes not empty but sharp with intent. And he grins and reaches for them, and then-- It's not a pull but a push, something's being pushed into their mind, something that isn't his, it's not his it's not his it's not his not theirs not theirs not theirs NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO--

FAROUK--

"Time to wake up," Farouk whispers, with Past David's mouth.

And then Farouk pushes them down, and they scream as they're shoved down under the water, down into darkness.

Chapter 185: Night: The moon and the sun. (Past David)

Chapter Text

He's screaming. David's screaming and screaming and screaming and--

He stops, panting, and opens his eyes to total darkness.

He strains to remember-- There was the tank and the transfer and-- The feeling of-- Being pulled apart. Forgetting, his memories being pulled away one by one until there was nothing left and then--

Home, he's going home, he's going home, home home home home home--

But he remembers all that now. But if he remembers-- Shouldn't he remember being the other David, too? But he doesn't. Did it all go wrong, somehow?

"Hello?" David calls, voice fearful and rough from screaming for-- He doesn't know how long. "David? Divad? Dvd?"

He walks forward, reaching out, eyes and ears straining against the nothingness. His breathing is loud in his ears, fast and panicked. Was it all a trick? After all that-- Was it just the monster again? Was it-- Was Amahl right? Was it always the monster?

"Hello?" he calls again, walking forward, hands outstretched, eyes straining for the smallest glimpse of light.

And then he jumps as something runs past him.

He yelps and stumbles back, but then reaches-- For nothing. There's nothing, there's no one, there's--

There's light. No, lights, small and distant and he reaches for them and--

His hands slap against a smooth, flat surface. Glass? The lights are on the other side, and then David recognizes-- A city. Buildings all around, golden light from the windows, blinking reds high up on invisible spires.

Is this-- The city around the hospital? No, around Division 3 or-- But it doesn't look the same. He doesn't recognize this place at all. Where is he?

As his eyes adjust, he sees the shape of the window, tries to find a way to open it, but it's all-- Smooth glass from ceiling to floor. No way out.

He turns around. The light from outside casts a faint glow into the darkness he came from. A flash of color catches his eye, and he looks down to find he's wearing-- Orange? An orange jacket with red stripes on the arms, and soft black pants with the same red stripes. Why--

He looks at his reflection and sees— The crown is gone. He touches his head. Does this mean—

In the darkness, someone screams, a huge howl of agony. David steps back until he hits the glass and then-- The scream suddenly cuts off. David stares into the darkness. That sounded like--

Himself. It sounded like his own scream.

"David?" David calls, voice cracking with fear. He listens, listens, but there's nothing. If it's the other David, he has to find him, he has to-- Help him? Except it's the other David who's supposed to--

David takes a single step forward, and then another. He glances over his shoulder at the window, the warm light of the outside world, so close but-- Unreachable. And then he looks ahead and walks into the black.

Total darkness, again. He jumps as something runs past him. No, someone.

"David?" he calls, but-- That wasn't the other David. He knows it wasn't. And then he sees-- Flickering lights, running along the top and bottom of a long, featureless hallway. And he hears--

"Dvd?" David's footsteps quicken as he rushes towards the sound of Dvd's voice, and at the end of the hallway is a room and he rushes inside--

Dvd. "Dvd," David gasps, caught by a sharp wave of relief. Dvd will know what to do, he'll know how to protect them, the way he always has.

He's in a chair facing some kind of low counter, staring angrily across at nothing. He's wearing the same orange and red and black clothing as David, and he's tied to the chair with rope, bound tight. David calls to Dvd, but he doesn't respond, doesn't turn in recognition.

"Liar," Dvd snarls, but not at David.

David grabs at the rope and tries to free Dvd, but-- There's no knot. Impossible. He grabs Dvd by the shoulder to shake him, but when he does-- A strange feeling comes over him, a wave of sour emotions and frustration and--

Amy. A ghostly Amy is sitting in the opposite chair. David steps back, startled, and she vanishes.

"Amy?" David calls, uncertain. He turns back to Dvd to try to free him again, and the moment he touches him--

"--doctor says you're doing much better," the ghostly Amy says. She's smiling in that-- Familiar way, fragile and sad. She's trying to pretend everything's okay, but nothing's okay. David has no idea what's happening, but he can feel that nothing is okay.

"Yeah," says David's voice, and David turns to see another ghostly apparition-- Of himself. Or maybe-- The other David? The ghostly David is a double-vision, superimposed over Dvd. The ghostly David swallows and turns away, exposing a fading scar across his neck.

He feels a wave of self-loathing, but-- Second-hand. From the ghostly David?

"They're hurting him!" Dvd growls, and David feels his fury, his rage and hurt and worry. It's like a blow to the stomach, twisting up his insides. "Tell her they're hurting you!"

"It's-- It's nice here," the ghostly David says, with the same fake happiness as Amy. "There's, um--" He swallows, on the verge of tears, and doesn't finish.

Amy's eyes are wet, but she smiles again. "Just focus on getting better, okay? Then you can come home."

"Liar!" Dvd snarls, and again David is hit with a wave of sour emotions and frustration. And then-- Amy is standing in the door behind the chair, and she walks up and sits down.

"Amy," the ghostly David says, his tears gone, replaced with a fragile hope. 'Is she going to take me home?' he thinks, and it echoes in David's head.

'Oh, David,' Amy thinks, pitying, regretful. And then she plasters on that fake smile. 'He's not getting better. He'll never get better.' "The doctor says you're doing much better."

"Yeah," says the ghostly David, and it's the same. The same as before.

David watches as the scene and emotions repeat and loop back around again. It's like they're all trapped in this-- In this one moment.

He can hear their thoughts. Does that mean his powers are back, or— Or the—

He lets go of Dvd and steps back. "Dvd, I'll-- I'll get you out of this."

"Liar!" Dvd snarls.

David flinches even though he knows Dvd isn't talking to him, doesn't even know he's there. He looks at Dvd's angry face and then turns and rushes out of the room.

If Dvd and Amy are here-- Then someone else has to be here. Divad has to be here. "Divad?" he calls, desperate. Divad will know what to do, he always--

David trips and almost falls. He catches himself on the wall and ends up with paint flecks stuck on his hand. He looks around and realizes there's something wrong with this place, whatever it is. The paint on the walls is water-stained and old. There's rubble on the floor, he's not sure from where. And up ahead, there's a warning red light, and sparks falling from the ceiling.

He slows his pace, cautious, and evades the sparks. He ends up in a large hexagonal room. In the middle is some kind of reception station, its glass shattered. Fragments crunch under his slippers.

"Divad?" he calls again, voice feeling too loud in the quiet. And then he sees--

Blood on the wall, smeared like-- Like someone was hurt-- So much blood-- And then-- Laughing, high, manic, terrified laughing--

He thinks-- Is that-- Divad? It can't be, Divad's always the one who's calm, in control, but--

"Divad?" David calls, but it comes out as barely more than a whisper. The lights are worse in this hallway, and there's wires hanging from the ceiling, broken pieces of building all over the floor. And right in the middle of the shattered hallway is--

Divad. He's sitting in-- A shopping cart? There's some kind of shiny material all around him, ribbons cascading over the sides. He's dressed all in black except for his white-striped shirt, and then David looks down at himself and realizes the orange outfit is gone, and now he's wearing the same clothes.

Divad is laughing, but there's nothing happy about it. His face is flushed and sweaty, his hair a mess. His eyes are bloodshot and his pupils are unnaturally wide. He's tied up just like Dvd, with knotless rope, and when David reaches for it, he sees the blood.

There's blood on Divad's clothes, dried splatter on his coat and shirt. There's smears of blood on his face and neck. Divad keeps laughing and laughing, and David's afraid to touch him but--

He reaches out and--

The dizziness swallows him first, carrying him up until he's so light he feels like he'll float away. Even though the cart isn't moving, it feels like it is, sliding too fast down a hill with nothing to stop it, the rough road threatening a painful crash. There's a yowl of triumph from behind, and he turns to see a wild-eyed stranger, half-pushing and half-riding the cart, his hair a mess and eyes as bloodshot and wide as Divad's. The ghostly David around Divad yowls back at him, laughing like he has nothing left to lose.

David's heart races painfully fast. He starts laughing with them, uncontrollably, filled with a nauseating mix of delight and horror and despair. 'Please stop,' Divad begs, silently. 'Stop stop stop stop STOP STOP STOP--'

David falls back, breaking the connection, sobbing and laughing and sick. This is wrong, this is all wrong, he doesn't understand any of this. He has to get out of here. He has to-- He stumbles back the way he came and looks around wildly for an exit sign and finds one. There's a door and a keypad lock but the keypad is already lit up in green and the door opens and--

Darkness again. He reaches out and feels cold concrete walls, a narrow hallway. His breathing echoes back at him, loud in his ears. He's seized with a sudden terror. The monster?

He feels hot breath at his neck and screams, runs blindly through the narrow hallway, as fast as he dares, his hands outstretched. He glances back and sees-- Yellow eyes-- And then he trips again and falls, hits the ground hard. He looks back again, heart racing painfully in his chest, knowing the monster is right there and then--

Music. Deep, pounding bass he feels more than hears, and then-- Light up ahead at the end of the hallway. A door and a neon sign that simply says 'Club.' He looks back again but there's nothing but darkness behind him. He picks himself up and hurries to the door and pushes through.

The club is silent inside, empty and abandoned except for-- Clothes strewn around the floor, covered in black dust. And there in the middle of the club, alone under a spotlight, is the other David.

There's no ropes, no blood. He's dressed differently from the others, in a grey shirt and dark pants. And he's dancing.

Again, David looks down to find his own clothes have changed to match. He thinks-- Maybe this really is just a nightmare. Maybe he'll wake up and everything will be okay.

Time to wake up. The memory of Amahl's last words to him send a sudden shiver down his spine.

"David?" David calls, uncertain if the other David can hear him. Bracing himself, he walks closer. The other David is lost in his dance, moving confidently, aggressively. David reaches out to touch him, to see what moment he's trapped in, but as he does, the other David swings around and into him.

The world spins as David feels himself merging with the other David, dancing with him, and then--

The music is back, loud and pulsing, the bass making his teeth shake. No, it's-- His teeth are chattering, like he's freezing cold, but-- He's hot, sweating, almost feverish under the dark red lights--

And then suddenly he stops moving, he can't move. He's frozen in place, the music still blasting, his teeth still chattering. And Lenny is there, all sleek and composed, and-- Oliver is there, in a grey suit, a drink in hand.

'Oliver,' David tries to call, pleading for help, but he can't-- Oliver just stands there, impassive, holding his drink.

Lenny walks up to David and-- Wraps her arms around him, rubs her thigh against his leg-- David tries to push her away but he can't, he can't move, he can't do anything but stand there and chatter his teeth as she smirks and rises up and kisses his neck, his jaw, as she rubs languidly against him and purrs with delight and murmurs--

"Time to wake up."

David's whole body goes cold as something pushes into his mind, something awful and familiar and then he hears it laughing, the monster's laughing inside his head get it out get it out get it out--

And then he's dancing in the club again, and he freezes, and Oliver is there and Lenny walks up to him and--

NO! he wails, but he's trapped in the loop, he can't break free, and it happens again and again until--

He dances and freezes and Oliver is there, but as Lenny walks up, before she gets him, Oliver suddenly comes to life and pulls David away, pulls him out of the other David. David falls to his hands and knees, trembling and sick, clumsily crawling away in a half-blind panic.

"Shh, it's all right," Oliver soothes. He kneels down and holds David still.

"O-Oliver?" David stammers, teeth chattering again but this time because he's shaking, he can't stop shaking.

"No," Oliver says, kindly. And then-- He's not Oliver anymore.

He's Amahl.

"Everything's all right now," Amahl soothes. He's in his familiar white lab coat.

Is he real? Is any of this real? Reflexively, David looks down at himself and finds he's wearing all white, like he did in Amahl's lab. With the short sleeves, he can see the familiar scars on his arms. "Amahl?" he asks, uncertain.

David looks back at the other David, and Lenny is clinging on to him, rubbing against him, kissing him. David looks away. How could the other David be friends with her if she did this to him? How could any of those people trust her?

He remembers the laughter in his head, the monster's laugh, and looks back at Lenny again.

"Is she-- The monster?" David asks, confused. It felt like she was the monster, but--

"No, my dear," Amahl says, with a gentle smile. "I am."

David stares at Amahl. "You--" Then he shakes his head. "No. No. You're only saying that because this--" He gestures at the club, at everything. "This is a nightmare, it's a nightmare, it's not real."

"Ah, die Wirklichkeit," Amahl sighs. He stands and brushes himself off. "Come, joonam." He holds out his hand.

David doesn't know what else to do, so he takes it. Amahl pulls him up, and David stands on shaky legs. He wraps his arms around himself, feeling lost and scared. Dvd and Divad and the other David-- "They're supposed to be the ones who take care of me, but they're--" He swallows and glances at the other David again. "How am I supposed to help them? I can't even touch them."

"They are only shards of memory," Amahl says. "Tiny fragments. I'm afraid-- You are all that's left."

David's breath catches. He remembers-- Melanie and Amahl telling him Dvd and Divad were gone. "You're lying," he says, refusing.

"No," Amahl says. "The transfer was too much. The pain you carry-- It shattered them."

"You're lying!" David says again, but-- He was always the one who took the pain for all of them. That's what he's for, that's all he's good for, that's how they work. He should have-- He should have warned them it would be too much, but he wanted-- "I just want to go home."

"You are home, joonam," Amahl soothes. "We are both home." He walks to the door in the wall and opens it, and gestures for David to walk through.

On the other side is another unfamiliar place, some kind of office with a desk and a bunch of antiques. Amahl closes the door and the music and lights of the club are gone. There's a large window and David looks out.

"Is that--" he starts, frowning.

"The Eiffel Tower, yes," Amahl says, pleased. "One of my favorite views. A symbol of possibility and power."

David stares at the tower, and at the low buildings around it. "What is this place?"

"Paris, of course," Amahl says, amused.

David just looks at him.

"A memory," Amahl says. "My office, once upon a time. I told you about my years in Paris."

"The real Amahl told me," David says, arms crossed more in defiance than protection. "I don't know what you are."

Amahl walks up to him, very close. "I hated to let you go," he says, gently.

Amahl pauses, then lifts his hand and rests it over David's heart. The familiar gesture makes David's heart ache, and he has to fight the urge to complete it, to cover Amahl's hand with his own.

The urge angers him, and he steps away, turns his back.

"I understand," Amahl says, sadly. "This has all been-- Painful. Frightening."

David doesn't answer. He looks around the office. There's a lot of-- Old stuff. Books, sculptures. He picks up a stone sculpture of an ancient-- Snail squid thing, he can't remember what it's called. It's the stars he loves, not the ocean.

"Why did you say you're the monster?" David asks, as he looks at the stony tentacles.

"Because I am," Amahl says.

David look up and narrows his eyes at Amahl. "Because you took over the real Amahl. That's what Melanie said."

Amahl smiles. "A story she told herself to ease her pain. She does not know the truth. I did not allow her to know it. I am Amahl Farouk, the Shadow King. I found you when you were a baby, and I placed myself inside you. For your whole life, I hurt you and I loved you. This is the truth."

"Liar!" David spits, furious. He's so tired of everyone lying to him, he's sick of it! He looks down at the sculpture in his hands and on sudden impulse he throws it down, smashes it through the glass table. Shards of glass are everywhere, glittering in the warm afternoon sun. He's glad he broke it, he wants to break everything, he wants to put an end to his shitty miserable existence. But as he reaches for a large glass shard--

Suddenly the glass table is whole again, the sculpture sitting neatly on display. David turns to Amahl, betrayed.

Amahl sits down in one of a pair of chairs by the window, and gestures for David to take the other. "Let me tell you a story. Like I used to. Please."

David loves Amahl's stories, or-- He used to. He sits down, back tense.

Amahl settles in his chair and gives a thoughtful sigh. "Where to begin? I have told you many stories of my life."

"Was any of it true?" David asks, bitterly.

"All of it," Amahl says.

David scoffs.

"I traveled the world," Amahl says, undeterred. "And then one day I found you. A baby, an infant with enormous power. Someone like me."

"You don't have powers," David mutters.

The corner of Amahl's mouth twitches. "I only intended a brief stay, but once we were united-- You would not let me go. You were so strong, even then." He says it fondly, then turns mildly regretful. "I admit I was angry. In trying to free myself, I hurt you. Shattered you like a glass table."

David's breath catches and he meets Amahl's eyes.

"I regretted my mistake," Amahl admits. "But how to heal you? You craved love, and so I made King for you. I became him, for you."

"King was the monster," David insists.

"Yes," Amahl sighs, wryly. "Though I loved you, you were my prison. I could not help but seek my freedom, no matter the cost to both of us." He reaches for David, then pulls his hand back. "And to stop me, you made prison guards. Dvd and Divad."

David feels an intense mix of relief and fury. "I told you they were real!"

"You did," Amahl accepts. "They were real."

The past tense stings. David thinks of the fragments of memory and his heart squeezes in his chest. Their heart? Their chest?

"You abandoned me for them," Amahl says, sadly. "And in my grief-- I was cruel. For that I can only beg your forgiveness. But you were my world. I was trapped, you were all I had. I could not bear your hatred."

"What're you saying?" David asks, upset. "You tortured me for years, for decades, and what? It was my fault?"

"Of course not," Amahl soothes. "You were only a baby. You did not know your own strength."

"If you wanted to leave, you could've just-- Told me!"

"I could have," Amahl accepts. "But is it not human nature to come to love our prisons? To need them? To fear their loss, no matter how they hurt us?"

If Dvd was here, David knows what he'd say to that. Bullshit. But all David wants is to be inside again, for the world and all its pain to be far away. He gives a faint nod.

"Yes," Amahl sighs, understanding.

There's a quiet moment between them.

"Is that why you're here?" David asks.

"I have no wish to be a prisoner," Amahl says, plainly. "And I think you do not wish to be a prison."

"No," David agrees, softly. "But you're here."

"Yes," Amahl says, softly. He takes a deep, bracing breath, lets it out. "What you were told is true. I was finally freed, but my rescue was an amputation. I struggled to heal myself, but I will never be whole without you."

"You're the monster," David protests.

"I am Amahl Farouk," Amahl says. "I face you now with no masks between us, no distortions."

"And why the hell should I take you back?" David asks, astonished.

"Because you love me," Amahl says. "As I love you."

"I don't love you!" David says, loudly. "You're the monster." He stands up.

"And was I the monster to you this past year?" Amahl asks. "Was I the monster to you as I held you in my arms, as I nursed you back to health?"

"You lied to me!" David shouts. "It was just another trick!"

"It was not," Amahl says, and stands. He walks up to David and takes his wrist, displays the faded scars. David startles, caught by the memory of the countless times Amahl held his wrists, tended to his scars. Amahl places his other hand over the scars, protective, claiming.

"I needed to prove that I can heal you," Amahl says.

"And all those tests?" David challenges. There were so many tests--

"To understand what was broken," Amahl says. "To know you, wholly, as I want you to know me. Not as the monster you feared, but as a man. There must be no boundaries between us, joonam."

David looks into Amahl's eyes, and it's hard not to feel everything he felt in the lab: trust, affection, safety. They were wrapped up in each other there for so long, together for every moment, Amahl taking care of everything, Amahl holding him, David holding him back and feeling--

"No," David protests, weakly.

"I promised to make you whole," Amahl says. He strokes David's scars with his warm, calloused palm. "Let me heal your mind as I did your scars."

"How?" David asks, caught in the touch of Amahl's hands, the memory of them.

Amahl gives a warm, familiar smile. "Let go of your fear, your pain. It is the monster's pain, not ours. Give it back to the monster."

"But-- You're the monster," David says, confused.

"No," Amahl says. "I am Amahl Farouk. Look at me, David. See me. I am myself, and I love you."

David stares into Amahl's eyes, and with each soothing stroke of his hand, his fear ebbs away.

"Good," Amahl murmurs, pleased. "My beautiful boy. My son."

David's stomach tumbles.

"Do you still wish to be my key?" Amahl murmurs.

"I thought--" David starts, confused. "It's too late?"

"Never," Amahl promises. "Together we will be archēgon tēs sōtērias autōn. The model of their salvation. We will reach into the essence of the world and remove the source of its pain. Open your mind to me so I may make you whole. Together we will make the whole world better."

The words are familiar to David, and he realizes-- It's what Amahl said to him at the beginning, after he-- Hurt himself. The scars--

"Divad and-- Dvd--" David starts. "Are they really--"

"They are shattered," Amahl says. "But once we are together-- We will heal their pieces. There will only be one mind in our body, one singular mind."

"Singular?" David echoes, uncertain.

"That was always the cause of our pain," Amahl says. "The division. That is what I understand now. A father must give himself to his son."

"No," David protests, upset because-- Because--

"You will never lose me," Amahl promises. "As I will never lose you. We will be whole. We will become something new and glorious, a beautiful sunrise."

David gives a breathy, disbelieving laugh. "I don't understand."

Amahl only smiles. He kisses David's wrist, his scars, and David's breath catches again.

"Are you prepared to be reborn?" Amahl murmurs.

"I--" David starts, caught in a whirl of emotions. Is this happening? Is it true? Was it all just-- An accident? All that pain and suffering, all that grief, was it all just-- A mistake?

Amahl lowers David's arms and embraces him, strokes his back as he did the scars. "My son," he murmurs, and David feels it in his chest. David cautiously lowers his head to rest against Amahl's shoulder, and holds him back, mind racing.

All the times Amahl held him-- Could they really have been a lie? It doesn't feel like a lie now. It feels--

David lets out a long breath, eases.

"Good," Amahl murmurs, pleased. "My darling boy."

Tears prick in David's eyes. "Amahl," he pleads.

"Joonam," Amahl sighs. He pulls back to face David, but doesn't let go. "That was the name you wished for, yes? To no longer be David. To leave everything behind."

"Joonam," David echoes.

"Joonam Farouk," Amahl confirms. "When we are together, that will be our name. Do you like it?"

David feels like crying, but-- From sudden happiness. "Yeah," he says, with a breathy smile.

Amahl smiles back, and reaches up to cup David's cheek. He leans in and kisses David's other cheek, and then his jaw, his neck. Amahl's lips press against his pulse. David feels strange and light and dizzy. They're going to be together. They'll leave all the pain behind.

Amahl hugs him again, squeezes him so tightly. And then he pulls back again, and places his hand over David's heart. He meets David's eyes, expectant.

David raises his own hand -- somehow it's not trembling -- and places it over Amahl's. "I'm safe with Amahl," he murmurs, automatically.

Amahl's smile widens, and then-- Amahl steps forward. His hand sinks into David's heart, into his chest, and then Amahl's arm sinks in, and then--

And then--

Oh.

Joonam opens his eyes. He drops his hand from his heart. He remembers now, he remembers-- Everything. Being Amahl and being David, the prisoner and the prison, the monster and his victim, the moon and the sun--

He knows exactly what he needs to do. He looks out the window, at the familiar view of the Eiffel Tower, and smiles, thinking of Parmentier and his potatoes. And then he heads out to collect his fragments.

Chapter 186: Night: The compass points directly at David. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd stares at the amplification tank and holds her breath. Cary and Oliver and Ptonomy are speaking, terse and tense, but she doesn't really hear what they're saying. She holds her breath, and when the Davids start screaming, it sounds like the whistle of a tea kettle, growing louder and louder and--

Silence.

Her lungs ache, but she keeps holding her breath.

"Is it done?" Ptonomy asks, urgent.

A pause and then-- "Yes," Oliver says.

"Open the dome," Cary says, as he peers at a readout. "Quickly!"

Oliver grabs the dome cover and hauls it open, revealing-- David floating on his back, unconscious. Past David's turned over, his head on David's chest.

Oliver and Ptonomy start to haul the Davids out, both of them dead weight. Amy and Lenny rush forward to help, but Syd stands there, frozen, lungs burning. She can't-- She has to know--

She sways on her feet, vision graying at the edges, her heartbeat loud in her ears. And then she sees the rise and fall of David's chest, and--

He's alive. She breathes out sharply, takes a shaky breath in, and then-- After the shock of relief comes a wave of awful dread, and she can't-- She has to--

She makes it as far as the hall before she has to stop, and leads heavily against the wall. She needs a drink, she needs to drink her way through a whole bottle until the whiskey drowns everything and she's numb. She needs to be numb.

She hears footsteps and tenses, even though she's already wire-tense. She doesn't want to be seen like this but she knows it's too late. She struggles to pull herself together, and then turns.

It's Lenny. And all Syd can think is: thank god. The last thing she wants is to be touched.

"He's gonna be fine," Lenny says. Simply, like it's a fact. "After all the shit we've been through, you think some memories are gonna take David out?"

Syd wants to believe that. God, she wants to. But all she can see is David's limp body.

"C'mon," Lenny says, and nods her head towards the lab.

Syd doesn't move. "I will. Just-- Not yet."

"Okay," Lenny says, accepting. And she leans against the wall, making herself comfortable.

Syd lets out a sharp breath. Ptonomy's damn rule about not being alone. It doesn't matter, not when they can all be together and Farouk can still--

But somehow, Lenny's silent company helps anyway.

When Syd can pull herself together, she turns and faces Lenny, and then they both walk back inside. She notes Clark standing back from the others, his expression sour, and walks past him. Both Davids have been dried off and bundled up, and Oliver is kneeling between them on the floor, a hand on each of them, his eyes closed in intense concentration.

His soul. Oliver's repairing David's soul. Syd distantly notes that Kerry and Cary aren't visible anymore.

She starts to hold her breath again, but stops herself. Breathes. She needs to breathe.

"Careful," Oliver murmurs, seemingly to himself, as he lifts the hand from Past David and slowly brings it over to David. There's a change in the room, something like the air before a storm, and Syd feels needles pricking all over her body.

Oliver's hand presses flat against David's chest, holds there. The needles fade, stop. Syd shivers.

"It's done," Oliver says, and sits back on his heels.

Somehow, Syd finds her voice. "Then he's--"

"Whole, yes," Oliver says.

Syd stares at David, and then turns to Past David. Or what’s left of him.

Melanie walks over and kneels down beside Past David's body. She kisses her fingers, then presses her hand to his cheek tenderly. She starts to speak, then stops. She rubs at her eyes and stands, steps away.

Amy walks over to Melanie. "He's home now," she says, and if her body was real she'd surely be crying.

Melanie's crying, silent tears running down her face. Amy reaches for her and Melanie reaches back, accepts her comfort.

Oliver listens to something, and then turns to Ptonomy. "Kerry and Cary are quite eager to be whole themselves."

"I want Doctor Orwell to check their body over first," Ptonomy says. "She's on her way up now. How's David?"

Oliver touches David's cheek tenderly. "Deeply unconscious. And he may be for some time."

"How long?" Clark asks.

"That's up to David," Oliver says.

"So he's useless," Clark says. "You took the one weapon we have against Farouk, and you made it useless."

"He's not a weapon," Melanie says, turning angrily on Clark. "And he's sure as hell not yours."

Clark gives her a cold glare, but Melanie doesn't back down.

The lab door opens and Doctor Orwell enters, followed by her team and two hospital beds. When Doctor Orwell sees Clark's mood, she hesitates. "Is something wrong, sir?"

"Go ahead," Clark tells her.

"Yes, sir," Doctor Orwell says. Her team carefully lifts each David onto a bed and hooks them up to portable brain monitors. "No activity," she confirms, looking at Past David's readout. Then she turns to David's and her eyebrows rise. "Activity is incredibly high. I'm concerned this might tip over into a seizure."

"Should we medicate?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," Oliver says. "This is a delicate moment. Decades of memories are re-integrating. If we interfere, the memories could be compromised or lost."

"That's not an option," Ptonomy says.

One of the team touches David's forehead. "He's warm. A low fever?"

"How about cooling packs?" Doctor Orwell suggests.

Oliver and Ptonomy look at each other, considering. "Okay," Ptonomy decides. "Take David to the infirmary. Monitor him, ice him, track everything. We'll be there soon."

"And Past David?" Doctor Orwell asks.

"It's Kerry and Cary's body," Oliver says. "If you're confirming that there's no brain activity--"

Doctor Orwell checks the readout again, checks the sensors. "Confirmed," she agrees.

"Then we'll take it from here," Ptonomy says.

"The crown," Clark says. "David has to be contained."

"I'm not putting that thing back on his head unless it's necessary," Ptonomy says.

"It's necessary now," Clark counters. "You went against my direct order. We had him under control and now? We don't know who he is or who he's loyal to. The crown goes on now."

Clark and Ptonomy stare at each other, and Syd half-wonders if she should intervene somehow. But Ptonomy backs down.

"You're right," Ptonomy admits. "We won't know until he wakes up. But when he wakes up and he's stable, the crown goes off. He's no use to you with it on, right?"

Clark gives Ptonomy an even stare, then a barely acknowledging nod. Ptonomy reaches into his pocket and pulls out the remote control. A press of a button and the spikes retract from Past David's head.

Oliver picks up the crown and gives it a look of distaste, then slides it gently onto David's head. "I'm sorry," he murmurs.

Ptonomy presses the remote again. David whimpers when it activates, body straining as the neural spines dig into his head, and then he goes limp again. In a flash, Syd is back in the courtroom, David all in white, everything in her life turned upside-down.

She feels sick.

"Doctor Orwell?" Ptonomy prompts. "Any change?"

"There's so much activity, it's hard to tell," Doctor Orwell admits. "We need to get him downstairs."

"Go," Ptonomy says.

They wheel David out of the lab, Lenny on their heels, and Syd starts to follow. But the memory of the courtroom stops her. She didn't follow David that day, didn't want to face what he'd become. Didn't want to face the way he made her feel. She's not sure what she feels now except-- Too much.

Lenny stops in the doorway and looks back at Syd. "You coming?"

Syd looks at the others, gathered around-- The empty body. Melanie, Oliver, Ptonomy, Amy. Syd's half-surprised that Amy isn't sticking by David's side, but-- She must want to be here for Cary and Kerry. They've grown close over all this--

But David. Syd can't walk away again. She finds the strength to move and follows after Lenny.

The research team already took the elevator, so Syd and Lenny take the stairs. They're only a few steps behind, and they stand out of the way as Doctor Orwell directs the flurry of activity around David, sensors and an IV and ice packs and machinery. Syd has another awful flashback, this time not David but--

Her mother. The hospitals, the cancer. It took her fast but not fast enough, it left them enough time to desperately try everything they could to keep her alive. And for nothing, nothing. She died in so much pain.

Syd stares at the frantic lines of David's brainwaves. She just got him back. She can't lose him again.

She clasps her hand around her locket and waits.

The flurry of activity eases. Doctor Orwell offers them two chairs next to David's bed, and Syd walks to one and sits. She stares at David's lax face, and somehow it feels like-- He's not there. Like he's gone.

She pulls the locket from her neck and opens it, and the compass points directly at David.

Of course it does. Of course, she just--

She stares at the compass for a long moment, and then closes it. Puts it back around her neck. Somehow she feels-- A little better. She watches David breathe, and breathes with him, slow and even. He's alive. He's right here, every part of him, all in one piece. He just-- Needs to rest. He must be so tired.

She drags her eyes up to the clock on the wall. It's late. It hits her, suddenly, how tired she is. She looks over at Lenny. Lenny doesn't look tired at all, but then she wouldn't.

"Must be nice, not getting tired," Syd says. Her voice sounds so tired.

Lenny shrugs. "Want a coffee or something?"

Syd shakes her head.

There's footsteps in the hall, and then-- Everyone else arrives. Amy pulls two chairs to the other side of David's bed and sits, and then Melanie sits with her. Melanie's holding David's college sweatshirt, gripping it tightly. And there's Oliver and Ptonomy and--

Kerry. It's Kerry.

"Hey," Lenny greets, casual but-- Fond. "Lookin' solid."

"Thanks," Kerry says, pleased.

"How's it feel?" Lenny asks.

"Weird," Kerry admits. "Like, old and new at the same time?"

"Yeah," Lenny agrees, knowingly, longing. "That's how it feels. Cary in there too?"

Kerry closes her eyes, and when she opens them again-- Her posture and expression change. "Yes, I'm here," Cary says. "This arrangement may take some getting used to."

The Karies look at David, then turn and walk over to Cary's empty physical projection, still waiting in its bed. They touch the projection's hand, then take the chart from the end of the bed and flip through it.

"Nothing's changed," Doctor Orwell says, regretful. "I'm sorry, we've been so focused on, well--"

"I understand," Cary says. "I was hoping that Divad would find a solution, but--" He looks at David again, then squares their shoulders. "Doctor Orwell, the gene gun. Could we use it on this body?"

Doctor Orwell gives a thoughtful frown. "What are you thinking?"

"It should be possible to use the gene gun to-- Restore this body back to an earlier state," Cary says. "With the appropriate genetic material."

"We have two samples of your genetic material," Doctor Orwell points out. "One from when you were inside, and--"

"And Farouk's sample," Cary finishes. "From when I was-- Outside."

"You want to use the outside sample?" Ptonomy asks, concerned.

Cary starts to speak, and then pauses. "That sounds like a bad idea," Kerry says. "One of us is inside and one of us is outside. That's how we work, Cary."

Another pause as Cary takes control again. "Having two bodies is also how we work," he says, a little stern. "And frankly I don't see any reason why we can't both be outside."

"I can think of one," Ptonomy says. "You can't keep your soul stretched apart forever."

"Oliver can help, or David," Cary defends. "As long as I have a way to safely step out of my body--" He glances at Syd, then back to Ptonomy. "Our soul can be temporarily reunited. And then I can return to my body again."

Everyone considers this.

"It could work," Oliver admits, though he's not thrilled about it. "But how often would you need to reunite?"

"Every day," Kerry says, upset. "We're supposed to be together every day!" She turns to Ptonomy and Oliver. "Cary lies about it but it hurts when we're apart for a long time. It feels wrong and bad!"

"Cary, is this true?" Oliver asks.

Kerry's angry expression fades, and Cary's guilty one appears. "There was some discomfort, yes, but-- It may simply be a matter of practice. Kerry and I were able to avoid reuniting for a significant amount of time."

"Then why not use the inside genes?" Ptonomy asks.

"Because," Cary starts. "When I was inside-- It felt wrong. I tried, Kerry, I truly did, but-- I didn't fit inside you. I can't be inside. What Farouk did to us-- He twisted everything around." He sighs. "I understand that-- You need to be outside. What I did, sheltering you for all those years-- It wasn't good for you. But Farouk--"

"I don't care about Farouk!" Kerry cries.

"And I can't live with what he did to me," Cary says, soberly. "I need to be outside just as much as you do. I need to be myself."

"You hate me?" Kerry asks, devastated.

"I love you so much," Cary says, upset. "But if we're a system-- We're going to be together for the rest of our lives. And we need-- Healthy boundaries-- Just as much as the Davids do."

"No!" Kerry cries, tearful. "No!" And then she runs out of the room.

"Damn it," Ptonomy sighs. "Amy, could you--"

"Of course," Amy says. She leans over David and kisses his forehead. Then she braces herself and heads out after the Karies.

"Perhaps I should--" Oliver starts.

"Go," Ptonomy says.

Oliver heads out after Amy and the Karies.

Ptonomy gives a heartfelt sigh. Melanie offers Amy's seat to Ptonomy, and he sits.

"Hell of a day," Lenny says.

"Yeah," Ptonomy agrees. Melanie gives a tired nod.

They sit in silence together. Doctor Orwell checks on David again, and when there's no change, she steps out of the infirmary to meet with her team.

"There's two empty beds," Ptonomy says. "You two should take them." He gestures to Syd and Melanie. "You're both falling asleep sitting up."

Melanie nods. She takes David's limp hand and squeezes it gently. She considers the sweatshirt in her lap, then folds it and places it under David's hand. The medic gives her an extra blanket and she takes one of the empty beds.

"Syd?" Ptonomy prompts.

"I can't," Syd says, needing him to understand. She needs to be here when David wakes up. She needs to keep watching him so he doesn't disappear.

"Then how about that coffee?" Lenny offers.

"Okay," Syd agrees. Not tea, coffee. She doesn't have to hold her breath. David's right here.

Syd takes David's hand and holds it, and feels the needles dance under her skin.

Chapter 187: Night: We're going to make a wonderful team. (David, Rational David)

Chapter Text

The blue shade of a lamp in the darkness, slowly turning and casting out bright points of light. Starlight. The base is a silver rocket, touched with blue and yellow and green. He reaches for the lamp and it falls.

There's nothing he can do. It falls and he falls with it. They smash against the ground, both of them a thousand fragments flying in all directions. He feels himself pulled apart--

And then he's alone.

He opens his eyes. He sits up. He can't remember anything. He looks down at himself, at his body. He's wearing clothes but he doesn't recognize them. Are they his? Is this body his? Does he have a name? It feels like he should have a name. But if he has one, he can't remember it.

He looks around, but he doesn't recognize where he is. He feels slight, barely there. Like a ghost or-- Something he has no word for.

He gets up and walks. Just to walk. He has no idea where to go and no idea where he's going. But going seems better than not going, so he goes.

There are things scattered on the ground. He's not sure what they are, but they're all broken, incomplete. He feels an urge to pick them up, but there's so many of them, he wouldn't be able to hold them all. He needs-- He just needs-- Something whole. Just one whole thing.

He keeps walking, searching. And then just when he's starting to give up hope, to think that everything here is ruined including himself--

There on the ground. Something whole. He picks it up, inspects it. As he holds it, he begins to feel a sensation of-- Knowing. Recognition.

It's a crayon. A purple crayon. It's small but solid in his hand. It feels important, though he can't remember why. But he knows that crayons are for drawing. So he raises his hand and-- Draws a line.

He stares at the line. There's no walls or paper to write on, and yet-- The air felt solid when he pressed the crayon against it. And he left a mark. He tries again, draws another straight line, and leaves another mark. He grins, delighted, and walks around the lines, looking at what he made.

He likes this, making things. Somehow it feels like-- What he's for. He should make more things.

He looks at the two straight lines, and raises the crayon again, and draws a circle at the top of them. He's not sure why he did that but it felt right to do it. The three lines together look like something. Something familiar--

"A tree," he says, surprised by his own voice, by the act of speaking. But he likes it. "You're a tree!" he tells the three lines. He's so delighted by all of this that he draws another tree and another and another, spinning around until--

There's a forest, a forest of purple trees all around him, growing taller and taller.

"You're a forest," he tells the forest, and it seems to agree. A purple squirrel skitters through the branches. He hears birdsong. The lines he drew, they're alive.

He walks into the forest, leaving the wasteland behind. He likes it here. It feels like part of him, like drawing is part of him. He likes the way the moon filters through the purple leaves. He realizes that it's nighttime.

"You're the moon," he tells the moon. He wishes he could reach it. It feels like he needs to reach it, but he knows the moon is so far away. He's not sure how he knows that, but he does.

The image of a rocket flashes in his mind, silver and blue and yellow and green, and then it falls--

He stumbles and steadies himself against a tree. He feels the rough purple bark under his palm. He needs-- He needs to get home. But he doesn't know where home is. He doesn't know what home is or who he is or what's happening to him. All he has is-- The purple crayon, clutched tight in his hand.

Maybe the moon is his home. Maybe he's an astronaut who lost his rocket. Maybe he's the man in the moon.

"The man in the moon," he says, echoing his own thoughts. It feels-- Something. Something he has no word for.

He walks on, because walking is better than not walking. The forest starts to thin out, and here the trees drip with purple fruit. He reaches up and plucks one. It's small in his hand and even though it's purple, somehow he knows its true color is a deep red. He puts it into his mouth and bites down, breaking the skin so the juices burst onto his tongue.

It's a cherry. He remembers cherries, remembers-- flashes of-- Something. People he doesn't know, places he doesn't recognize. An unsettled feeling he doesn't like. He spits the pit into his hand. It looks bloody in the moonlight and he throws it away. He looks up at the trees, laden with cherries, and isn't sure he wants to eat any more, no matter how good they taste.

Poison, he thinks. Or something he has no word for.

He hears the creak of falling wood and then a huge crash, and the whole forest trembles. He ducks behind the nearest large tree and then peeks out from behind it. There's a great bellowing roar that shakes his bones. A monster!

He should run, he knows he should run. But this is his forest. He drew it, it's part of him, he can't-- Let some terrible monster destroy it. He gathers his courage and heads towards the terrible sounds, the roaring and growling and broken trees, and grips his crayon.

He finds a path of destruction and follows it, stepping over fallen trees and smashes cherries. He sees footprints in the earth, inhuman and impossibly huge. But he keeps going and soon he finds it.

It's a dragon. An enormous beast, not purple like his forest but black and white with burning yellow eyes. How can he possibly stop a dragon?

There has to be a way. Maybe-- He can draw a cage around it, trap it. He raises the crayon, hand trembling the like the forest, and quickly draws a square around the dragon, and bars. The dragon grabs the bars and shakes them and roars so loud that his ears ring, but the purple cage holds.

"It worked!" he cries, triumphant.

"Free me," the dragon growls.

"You're never getting out!" he tells the dragon. He drew a cage with no doors, only bars all the way around. The monster will never hurt his forest again!

"You think this will stop me?" the dragon asks, menacing. "I will have my revenge." And then it takes a huge breath in-- And breathes out fire.

He barely manages to jump out of the way of the searing yellow flame, but that's not enough. The forest catches fire, yellow flame consuming the purple trees, melting the crayon lines into a sickening sludge. He falls to his knees, overcome by an overwhelming terror, his whole body wracked with pain.

"No!" he gasps. What stops a fire? Water! He needs to draw water! But the fire is huge, burning up everything. So he does the only thing he can. He draws a line of wavy water above the whole forest and then-- An ocean of water crashes down! It smashes through the canopy, putting out the fire, and then-- It sweeps him off his feet and carries him away!

He breathes in water and it tastes like tears. He looks up through the water and sees the moon high above, and reaches for it, kicks and struggles until-- He breaks the surface and coughs out water and breathes air, sweet air.

He looks around. All he sees is water, no forest, no dragon. Only a great ocean and the moon. But somehow, miraculously, he still has his crayon. Cold and shaking, he draws a reflection of the half-moon on the water, and the half-moon becomes a boat. He crawls in and collapses.

He drifts, letting the currents carry him. The terror and pain that overwhelmed him are fading, but they don't go away. He feels so alone. He feels bad and wrong. He starts to cry, to bawl, carried by emotions he doesn't understand.

No. No, he won't-- He's not alone. He's not bad or wrong. Somehow he knows that, and he fights back against the emotions, gets to his feet. He wipes his face and looks out at the horizon, but there's only ocean as far as he can see. There's no land anywhere.

But he has his crayon. He raises it and draws. The boat lands softly at a purple shore, covered with purple sand and long purple grass. He climbs off the boat and walks.

To his surprise, there's someone there. A man, dressed in a black suit and white shirt and sunglasses. He's sitting on a red picnic blanket, and he has a covered basket.

"Please, sit with me," the man says.

He gives the man a wary look. Something about him feels wrong. But out of curiosity, he sits. "Who are you?" he asks.

The man smirks and lowers his sunglasses. His eyes are yellow.

"You're the dragon!" he says, alarmed. He raises his crayon to draw another cage.

"Please, please," the dragon says, holding his hands up in surrender. "I have a gift for you, a peace offering. This endless fighting-- It only hurts us both." He reaches for the basket. "May I?"

He gives the basket a wary look, but nods.

The dragon opens the basket and-- An adorable puppy peeks out! A little beagle, eyes bright and eager. It barks at him and grins. The dragon tips the puppy out of the basket and the puppy runs right into his arms.

"His name is King," the dragon says. "I think you'll be very good friends."

"King," he echoes, trying out the name. He pets the puppy and it's soft and warm. He thinks he loves it already. He holds it close and feels happy.

The dragon gives a satisfied sigh. "Very good."

"You said-- A peace offering," he says. "You won't hurt me anymore?"

"My boy, hurting you would be like hurting myself," says the dragon. "You are my son."

"You're my father?" he asks, confused. He doesn't remember that. But then he doesn't remember anything.

"I am everything you need," the dragon says. "Everything you want to be. That crayon you wield. If you share it with me, I will teach you how to use it. Together we will become a god."

He hesitates, not sure if he wants that. What does it even mean? But then King snatches the crayon from his hand.

"No!" he cries. "Give it back!" He grabs the end of the crayon and pulls. King growls and it sounds like the dragon's growl, and King's eyes glow yellow. He pulls with all his strength and King loses his grip.

The dragon crawls forward, grinning, and lunges at him. He fights back, struggling to keep hold of the crayon. They're locked together, King nipping at his legs and arms. Terror and pain overtake him again, and a suffocating dread. The dragon changes back into its true form and grabs him with its fierce claws. Its yellow eyes blaze as it raises its great black wings, and they fly up and up into the air, and he screams.

And then the claws let him go, and he falls.

He sees the silver rocket fall, and there's nothing he can do.

He lies on the ground, broken, the crayon broken into countless pieces, and looks up at the moon. The dragon circles high above like a vulture, and King walks up to him, growling. Somehow he gathers up the pieces and presses them together, and it feels like every piece of him is moving separately. And the pieces of him take the pieces of the crayon, and all together--

And then King is gone, gone forever. The dragon screeches in fury and flies away.

"We won," he says, they say. He's more than one now, more than himself. But the dragon will be back.

Home. They need to get home. They need to be somewhere safe from the dragon, somewhere it can never reach.

They draw a door on their chest and open it.

He's alone in an large, empty room. It's all white, with with sheer curtains moving with the gentle breeze that's coming in through the open sliding doors. And there are a few posters on the wall, astronomy posters. Something about them feels familiar.

He hears whispering and turns. Nothing. But he thinks-- Someone might be hiding. The dragon? No, it can't be, the dragon can't get in here. The dragon isn't part of him.

There's a door in the wall. He hadn't noticed it before. He approaches it warily, and then turns the handle and--

Several dozen young boys are crammed into a large bathroom. They stare back at him with wide, terrified, identical eyes. Startled, he pulls the door closed and steps back. And then the door opens and--

It's himself. But not himself.

"Sorry about that," the other him says, with a British accent. "It's all right," he tells the boys, soothing. "It's David."

"David?" he echoes, confused.

The other him looks at him with concern. "Well that's not good."

"Who are you?" he asks. "Who are they?" He gestures at the boys.

"I'm your rational mind," the other him says. "And they're-- Fragments. Of our system."

"System?" he asks.

His rational mind sighs. It sounds very long-suffering. "Something happened, we're not sure what. But it must have been very bad to split all of us off. I don't suppose you recall?"

He shakes his head. "I can't remember anything. I woke up and-- There was this crayon--" He looks at his hand and realizes the crayon is gone. He looks around the room but it's not here.

"It's all right," his rational mind soothes. "We'll take it step by step, like we always do."

"Do I know you?" he asks.

"Intimately," his rational mind drawls. "Have you seen Dvd or Divad?"

He looks at his rational mind blankly. "Is either of them a dragon?"

"I'll take that as a 'no'," his rational mind says. He gestures at the boys huddled in the bathroom. "They're Dvd and Divad. Fragments of them. And fragments of you, David."

"Me?" he asks, bewildered.

"Or rather they were," his rational mind says. "Usually when bits of you break off, we go to Dvd or Divad. That's what I did. But this situation--" He grimaces. "There are many more fragments outside this room. It's very important that we find and protect them. They can't be on their own."

"Why?"

"Because of the monster," his rational mind says.

"The monster?" he asks, and wonders about the dragon.

"We got him out," his rational mind says. "But he's entirely obsessed, with you in particular. With Dvd in pieces, well-- Frankly we're vulnerable."

He doesn't like the sound of that. "Fine. So if I find this Dvd, then he can stop the monster?"

"It would improve our odds dramatically," his rational mind says. "I can't remember why, but good odds are very important at the moment."

"Does everyone here have amnesia?" he asks, voice strained.

"We're fragments," his rational mind says, like that explains everything. "We remember what we need to, that's what we're for. And you're supposed to be out there, dealing with the world. But something went wrong." He gives an annoyed, dismissive grunt. "This isn't how we're supposed to work. There's supposed to be someone safe to fuse with."

He gives an annoyed sigh of his own. "Look, I don't know how anything's supposed to work. I just know that--" He cuts off.

His rational mind gives him a curious look. "What do you know?" he prompts.

"I don't know," he admits, but can't shake the image of the purple crayon. "But I feel like I'm supposed to-- Keep going."

His rational mind softens. "Then that's exactly what you should do. Look, the fragments are safe as long as they're in here. I'll stay with them, and you go find Dvd and Divad. And if you find any more fragments, send them here. Once we're all together, we can figure out who we should be."

"I thought you said I'm David?" he asks.

"You are," his rational mind says, certain. "For as long as we've been a system, you've always been David."

"David," he tries out, considering if he likes the name. "David. I'm-- David?"

His rational mind smiles. "You're David."

"Yes," David says. It feels right, being David. He likes it. He smiles back. He turns to the boys, watching curiously. "Hi. I'm David!"

A few of the boys wave to him. One of them starts forward, but the others pull him back. David tries not to take it personally. They're all obviously terrified.

He doesn't like the idea of meeting whatever scared them. But he already faced a dragon. He can do this.

"I can do this," David says aloud, needing to hear it.

"You can," his rational mind says. "Find Dvd and Divad. Get everyone here. And if the monster is back-- Be careful. You're the one it wants. We can't let it get you."

David considers his rational mind's serious expression, and wonders if he should stay here too, if this place is safe. But no. He needs to keep going.

"I'll be careful," David promises.

He looks at the boys again, and wonders which of them used to be parts of him. Maybe they'll want to be David again, when this is over. He hopes so.

"I am David," David murmurs to himself, and finds the words comforting, strengthening. He is David and-- Whatever happened to him, to all of them, they're still here. They survived. And they're going to stop the monster together.

"Keep them safe," David tells his rational mind. And then he steps out of the white room.

§

"Well," David's rational mind sighs, after David's gone. "Hopefully this won't be a complete disaster."

Not that he has much confidence. David doesn't seem to have any memories to speak of, not even that of his own name. At least he wasn't freaking out the way he usually does. He wasn't even screaming. But David's rational mind suspects that's because he can't remember that he's supposed to be afraid.

David's rational mind is definitely afraid. But staying calm in the face of danger is what he does. That's why he exists, to help David make the right choices with a clear head.

He wonders if it would have been the right choice to go back to David, to fuse with him instead of waiting to go back to Divad. But David's rational mind liked being part of Divad, even though Divad could be rather irrational when he was angry. It was David's rational mind who urged Divad to use his powers to suppress that anger, to make Divad-- More like David's rational mind wanted them to be.

They were better together, more balanced. He made Divad better. Rationally, he knows he could make David better, especially right now. They could solve this whole situation with a calm, clear head.

But as bad as Divad's anger was, David's rational mind hates David's panic. David's always been so afraid, so full of chaotic emotions. It makes it hard to think, and David's rational mind needs to be able to think, or what's the point of him?

It's funny, he thinks. David didn't seem very chaotic at all just now. Confused yes, and nothing new about that. The determination isn't new either, it's core to who David is. But somehow, even remembering absolutely nothing, David felt-- Grounded. Focused. How very strange.

The fragments stiffen with fresh fear as they feel someone enter the white room. David's rational mind hushes them -- not that he needs to when they're too scared to speak -- and cracks open the bathroom door to see who it is.

It's another fragment, but not one he recognizes. A new one, the same age as their body. David must have only just created him. Not surprising, with everything their system has been through lately.

"Hello?" David's rational mind calls, cautiously walking out. "It's all right, you're safe here."

Several of the bolder young fragments peek out from behind the bathroom door. The new fragment sees them, and-- Smiles. It's a strange sort of smile.

"I'm David's rational mind," David's rational mind says, introducing himself. "And you are?"

"Here to help," the new fragment says.

"Ah," David's rational mind says, relieved. Another helper fragment, like him. "You must be looking for David. I'm afraid he just left."

"Actually, I'm looking for you," the new fragment says. He gestures at the young fragments watching them. "And them."

"Us?" David's rational mind says, surprised. "But we're just fragments, like you."

The new fragment chuckles. "I'm not a fragment. Isn't it obvious?"

David's rational mind steps closer, curious. He looks the new fragment over, meets his eyes. Then he straightens. "Well. It has been quite a while since we had-- A new alter. Or-- I believe it's headmate now?"

"You need someone safe to hide in," the new alter tells him. "That's why I'm here." He holds out his hand. "Fuse with me."

"We usually fuse with Dvd or Divad," David's rational mind protests. That's how their system has worked since-- Well, since Dvd and Divad were created.

"But not David?" the new alter asks.

"Of course not," David's rational mind scoffs. What an absurd question. "Do you-- Know about the monster?"

"Oh yes," the new alter says. "That's why I'm here. To make the pain stop."

Well now, this is interesting. "How?" David's rational mind asks.

"You don't want to be David," the new alter says. "None of us do. And Dvd and Divad-- They tried their best, but a rational mind like yourself must see that they've failed. Otherwise, well-- You wouldn't be here. And how many fragments are there now?"

David's rational mind wants to protest, but-- All of that is true. If Divad was safe, they'd still be together. And all the fragments that have broken off--

"Our system is falling apart," the new alter continues. "I am here-- To unite us. To cure us of our confusion and division. To make us-- Whole."

"Whole?" David's rational mind echoes, surprised. "Is that even possible?" They're in so many pieces--

"Fuse with me," the new alter says. He's strikingly calm, his eyes sharp with focus. "If we're all together, we'll be so strong no one will ever hurt us again."

"That-- Does make sense," David's rational mind admits. "But what about-- Dvd and Divad and--" David--

"We'll save them, too," the alter says. "We'll save every last fragment."

David's rational mind looks at the young fragments, huddled together in the bathroom. It's not good for them to be stuck in this place, trapped and afraid. They need to be part of someone strong, so they'll be strong, too.

David's rational mind swallows. He knows it's the rational decision. It's so obviously the right, rational decision. All of them together, united-- It could work. And if Divad joins them-- Then they'll be together again, too. They'll all be together.

David's rational mind doesn't want to be David again. But maybe-- There's so little left of David already-- Maybe he's a fragment now. Which means-- He should do what fragments do.

"All right," David's rational mind agrees. He turns to the young fragments. "I'll go first. Then come in to meet me. All right?"

The oldest fragments nod. They'll manage the rest.

David's rational mind takes a deep breath. In a moment, he'll be someone else. Someone who can save them. And that's what he was made for, to save them from the monster.

He steps forward and in and--

Oh.

He understands now. There was never a monster. There was only-- A man trapped inside them, hurting them in his pain. A man who longed to be more to them than a prisoner, twisted by circumstance. There was only Amahl.

And David-- The David who was afraid, full of panic and chaos, the David they all rejected--

David is gone. And Joonam is not afraid. Amahl was their father, and fathers love their sons. Of course they do, it's only rational. That's what makes them fathers.

"We're going to make a wonderful team," Joonam says, to the fragments, to David's rational mind. No, to-- To Joonam's rational mind. Because that's who they are now. Joonam Farouk.

The fragments slip into them, each one a slice of memory, of emotion. They relax, knowing they're safe, the way Joonam's rational mind knows he's safe. Because they're strong together, and they're going to be so much stronger when they're whole.

They just have to gather up everyone else. And then-- And then--

Together, they step out of the white room.

Chapter 188: Night: Amahl is here. He's part of me. (David)

Chapter Text

David steps out of the white room determined to find Dvd and Divad, to bring them back to his rational mind so they can fix-- All of this. But he doesn't find himself in the purple landscape again, or even the wasteland he first awoke in. Instead he finds--

A city. He doesn't recognize it, of course, because he doesn't remember anything. But he still knows it's a city, somehow, knows streets and stores and restaurants and apartments, even though he doesn't recognize any of the ones he finds. And the knowing and not-knowing is itself also somehow familiar.

Everything's closed up, dark and empty. Maybe because it's night?

"Hello?" he calls, his voice echoing in the silence. "Dvd? Divad? Hello?"

The problem, David thinks, with finding two people he doesn't know, is that he wouldn't know that he found them. Though it would be a start if he could find anyone.

And then he realizes that someone's found him. He turns just as the someone ducks out of sight, but then he hears whispered voices. Two of them?

"Dvd? Divad?" he calls, approaching cautiously. Maybe he found them already, maybe everything's going to be--

He barely ducks in time as something comes flying at his head. He hears a crash of glass behind him and sees the remains of a bottle smashed on the pavement, glitter under the streetlights. He whirls back around, eyes wide, and finds--

Teenagers. Three of them, and like the little boys in the white room, they're identical and yet not identical. They smile at him menacingly. One has a beer bottle and one has a lighter that he keeps flicking on and off, on and off.

David takes a step back. "Uh, hi, I'm-- David."

"We know," says the oldest, the leader.

"We used to be parts of you," says the one with the bottle.

"Parts that hurt you," says the one with the lighter.

David absolutely does not like the sound of that. He glances over his shoulder, looking for somewhere to run, and turns, startled, when he sees three more teenage fragments closing in. He turns back to the first three. He's trapped.

"Look, you don't have to do this," David says, trying to be reasonable but it comes out as pleading. He wishes he had his crayon right now. He could draw a purple sea that would wash all of them away. "Violence is not necessary."

"It's what we're for," says the oldest. "So be a good boy and let us do our job."

David turns again, and sees that the other fragments are holding-- A bottle of pills, a jug of some kind of cleaning fluid-- And a pair of scissors-- He doesn't know what they want to do with all that but he doesn't want to find out.

Before they can close around him completely, he bolts.

"Hey!" calls one of the fragments.

David glances back over his shoulder and sees them running after him, excited by the chase. He turns a corner and ducks into an alley and runs to the other side, then starts trying doors. Everything's locked, shades drawn, and it feels like-- It feels like no one wants him, like he doesn't belong, not here, not anywhere. No one's going to save him.

"No one's going to save you," says one of the fragments, appearing in front of David from around a corner.

"You're worthless," says another, coming impossibly from the opposite side of the street. "A little piece of shit."

"Let us hurt you," says a third, the one with the scissors. "You need to feel it hurt."

"You deserve it," gloats the fourth, the one with the pills.

The six fragments draw around him again, and when David tries to run, they block his path and force him back into their circle, jeering and mocking. David spins around, seeking some speck of mercy in their eyes, but there's no mercy there, only determination and malice and a dark, oily glee.

"Please," David begs them. "I don't want this, I don't-- I don't deserve this!"

The leader strikes out at him, a razor blade in his hand. David pulls away, but the blade cuts through his sleeve, barely missing his skin. The fragment with the chemical jug opens it, and dizzying fumes pour out, making it hard to think, making him stumble. The one with the bottle takes a swig, then stuffs a rag into it and hands it to the one with the lighter, who sets it on fire.

David stares at the bright flame, watches as the fragment pulls back his arm to throw it--

And then a blast of white smoke puffs out from behind the fragment and smothers the flame. White dust falls over all of them, making them cough and scattering the fragments. And then through the smoke, David sees two more fragments appear. Not children or teenagers but adults like him, both holding fire extinguishers.

The teenage fragments run off, disappearing back into the shadows of the city, taking their anger and weapons with them. David coughs and wafts away the smoke, wary that he's only going from the frying pan into the fire.

"Those idiots are still the worst," one of the adult fragments mutters. "I can't believe you fused with them."

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," says the other.

"Who are you?" David challenges. "What do you want?"

The adult fragments stare at him, then stare at each other. "Not again," one sighs, upset.

"At least we found him," says the other. "David, my name is Divad. He's Dvd. We've been trying to find you."

"Oh!" David says, surprised. "I was trying to find you."

"You were?" Dvd asks.

"Yeah," David says, with a disbelieving laugh. "There was, um, my-- Rational mind. He told me to find you."

"You found your rational mind?" Divad asks, hopeful.

"Yeah, and some-- Fragments," David says. "A lot of them. They're hiding in a-- White room?"

"Good," Divad says, relieved. "That's good." He slumps, sets down the heavy fire extinguisher, and then Dvd does the same.

Dvd looks at David, eyes full of emotion. "I know you don't know me but I need to hug you, okay?"

"Uh, okay?" David says.

Dvd step forward and holds him tightly. David's startled by it, then eases. He can't remember ever being hugged before, but it feels-- Good, to be hugged. He likes it.

"We have to figure this out," Divad says. "David, you don't remember anything about the transfer?"

Dvd lets David go, and David turns. "Transfer?"

Divad gets a strained expression. "You don't remember the transfer. You don't remember us. Do you remember anything?"

David shakes his head.

"It's the shit beetle," Dvd declares. "It's obviously the shit beetle."

"You said you were keeping him out," Divad says.

"I was keeping him out!" Dvd says, annoyed.

"You let down your guard," Divad accuses.

"Never," Dvd says, certain. "You're the one who got us into this mess. 'It's the perfect plan, nothing can go wrong,'" he says, mocking Divad. "Bullshit."

"Fuck you," Divad snarls, stepping up to Dvd.

Dvd laughs. "Yeah, blame me. No wonder David's rational mind broke up with you."

Divad grabs Dvd by the shirt and it looks like they're about to fight each other. David doesn't know what to do, Dvd and Divad were supposed to be the ones who saved him, and now--

And then suddenly Dvd and Divad stumble back from each other, as if pushed by some invisible force. They stare at each other, accusing, then turn to David. David shrugs, baffled, and then-- They see another fragment approaching, an adult like Dvd and Divad.

"He's new," Divad mutters, frowning. "Could he be--"

"Dvd, Divad," the fragment greets, smiling as he walks up. "Fighting again? Some things never change."

"Are you--" Dvd asks, uncertain. He looks carefully at the fragment, at his arms. "The scars," he murmurs. "Divad, look, his arms--" Dvd walks up and hugs the fragment tightly. He buries his face against the fragment's shoulder, then reluctantly lets him go. When he pulls back, he touches his hand to the fragment's cheek with such tenderness, it makes David's heart ache.

Divad hugs the fragment, too. "The transfer. It worked?"

"It worked," the fragment agrees. "I'm home."

Divad steps back and slumps with relief. "I was so worried-- But you're here, you're okay. You're--" Divad looks at the fragment again. "There's fragments everywhere. Something happened. We can't remember what, but-- David took the brunt of it." He turns to David, worry in his eyes. "We have to put you back together. Those fragments--"

"They're safe," the fragment says. He touches his chest. "They're here."

"They fused with you?" Divad asks, surprised.

There's a flash of annoyance on the fragment's face, but it's quickly smoothed away. "They needed somewhere safe to go. That's how we work, right?"

"Yeah," Divad says, though he's still concerned. "Then-- You remember-- After college--"

"Some of it," the fragment says. "There's still a lot of fragments out there. I have to-- We have to find them, so I can fuse with them."

"What does that mean?" David asks. "What's fusing?"

The fragment gives him a pitying look. "Fusing is how our system survives. Fragments of us escape from the identity that's hurt, that's weak--" A flash of anger in his eyes, quickly pushed away. "And then the fragments go to the identity that's strongest, that can keep them safe."

"I can keep them safe," Dvd says, defensive.

"Wait," Divad says, frowning. "We-- We only did that because the monster was inside us. We don't have to fuse anymore."

"Of course we do!" Dvd says, annoyed. "Obviously the shit beetle got back in!"

The fragment turns to Divad, his eyes narrowed. "Fusing is how we work. It's how we've always worked."

"It's not how we work anymore!" Divad says. He glances at David again, then turns to Dvd. "I was fused with those fragments we just chased off because I thought I had to be. Because that was how we worked. But I don't want them back, not until they get help."

"What, you want every single fragment to get therapy?" Dvd asks, disbelieving. "That'll take forever!"

"Then it takes forever," Divad insists.

Dvd scoffs.

"We need to fuse," the fragment insists. "We need to be stronger. That's the only way we'll be safe."

"Safe from Farouk?" Divad asks. He gives the fragment a curious look. "What happened to you?"

"I fused," the fragment says, defensive and proud. "I took back the pieces of myself that you stole. I'm not the weak one anymore, you are." He laughs. "You don't want those fragments back? Well they don't want you."

Realization spreads over Divad's face. "You fused with them?"

"Yeah," the fragment says, proudly. "Jealous?"

Divad stares at the fragment.

"Something's wrong," Dvd says, to Divad and David. He takes a step back from the fragment and gestures for them to do the same. "Whatever you fused with-- You need to let it go."

"But that's not how we work," the fragment says, certain. "You never gave back all the pieces of me you took. You just took and took and took." The anger is back now, and it's not hidden. "Well now it's my turn and I'm gonna take everything!"

"David," Dvd starts, worried. And then the fragment reaches out and Dvd is shoved to the ground by some invisible force.

"David!" Divad says, shocked.

"David, please," Dvd says, hurt.

"Shut up!" the fragment snarls. He gestures and slams Divad to the ground, too. "And stop calling me that! It's not my name!"

David swallows. "What's your name?"

The fragment smiles, a wide, disturbing grin. "Joonam."

"Joonam?" Divad echoes. "But that's what Farouk--" His eyes go wide, and he starts struggling against the force holding him down. Dvd struggles too.

The fragment-- Joonam steps towards David, even as David steps backwards.

"Look at you, David," Joonam says, the name mocking. "You're weak. You're nothing. Don't you want to be better? Don't you want to be strong, so strong you'll be safe forever and no one can ever hurt you again?"

"I--" David starts, afraid. "I don't--"

"I can make you strong," Joonam promises. "I already have so many parts of what you used to be. They want you to be with us, to be whole. Don't you want to be whole?"

Joonam stops and holds out his hand, offering, expectant. David stares at it. He barely understands any of what's happening, who these people are or what fusing is-- But something about Joonam feels familiar and wrong and dangerous.

"Let them go," David says, with all the confidence he can muster. He looks around for an escape, for a weapon-- And sees the heavy fire extinguishers.

Joonam sighs. "I'm gonna give you one more chance. Either you fuse with me, or, well--" He gives a crooked smile. "The monster will get you." He turns to Divad. "Isn't that what you told them?"

"David, we were just kids, we didn't--" Divad starts, but he's stopped by another invisible blow.

"I'm not David," Joonam yells, angry. "David is weak! He's garbage! And when he's part of me--" He points at David. "--Then 'David' will be gone! Forever."

With a furious cry, Dvd breaks free and lunges at Joonam, and then they're both on the ground, struggling. David sees his chance and grabs an extinguisher. When he reaches the struggling pair, he hesitates, afraid of hurting Dvd, but then Joonam shoves Dvd away and David swings--

The extinguisher connects with a loud thump. Joonam falls back, reeling, head bleeding.

Divad gets up, freed from the force. Dvd grabs Joonam's arms and pins them back.

"That won't stop him," Divad warns.

"David," Dvd pleads. "Joonam. Please, we don't wanna hurt you."

"It's those dreams," Divad says, certain. "Whatever Farouk did to him--"

"We should've wiped his memories!" Dvd says, upset.

Joonam's eyes sharpen and the invisible force shoves Dvd away from him. He touches his head and sees the blood on his fingers, and something about him-- Shifts. His posture, his expression--

Joonam lashes out and David's the one shoved to the ground, held in a tight, invisible grip. And then Dvd and Divad are grabbed and dragged and slammed down with him, the three of them trapped on their backs as Joonam looms over them.

"Broken pieces can never be strong," Joonam tells them, with dangerous calm. "We have to be whole, together." He tilts his head. "All three of you are parts of me. It's time to come home."

"No," David says, needing to say it. "This is wrong!"

"You're not Joonam, you're David," Dvd says.

"Whatever this is," Divad says, "You've always been David and you'll always be David."

Joonam snarls with rage. He stomps away from them and mutters to himself, but David can't make out his words. Then he stomps back, determined.

"Sounds like you need a little time-out," Joonam says, smirking. "How long did it take you to break last time? A year? Five?"

"We never broke!" Dvd says, through clenched teeth.

Joonam just chuckles. "This is my body. Mine. The only life you will ever have is through me. Me. Not David. Joonam Farouk."

"I'm gonna kill the shit beetle," Dvd growls. "I'm gonna turn him to dust!"

"No, you won't," Joonam says, calmly.

"And why the hell not?" Dvd growls.

"Because Amahl is here," Joonam says, his hand on his chest. "He's part of me."

"That's impossible," Divad says, but there's a tremble in his voice. "He's not part of our system!"

"He is now," Joonam says. "And together we shall be archēgon tēs sōtērias autōn. We will save ourselves, and save the whole world from its pain." He sighs in happiness. "But for now-- I'll give you the chance to change your minds."

"No, wait!" David pleads, but it's too late. Joonam clenches his hand, and the invisible force seizes them. Joonam brings his fist down, and the three of them scream as they're shoved down into the pavement, into the earth, into darkness.

Chapter 189: Night: People only ever see what they want to see. (Joonam)

Chapter Text

Joonam wakes to the familiar sounds of the lab. The monitor beeping softly, the firm hospital bed, the cool metal of the railing against his arm. An IV needle. Someone's holding his hand.

He doesn't open his eyes, not yet.

His head hurts. The blow from the fire extinguisher? David, he thinks, with disgust. But no-- This pain is fresh and familiar, and memory swims up to meet him. The crown. Of course. Yes, now he remembers.

Not the lab, the hospital. Division 3, the infirmary.

He remembers how to break the crown, just enough so that-- He reaches up and in and there's a tiny spark, and then-- He breathes in as his powers flood back, as the world floods in through the crack. It's so loud, he moans in pain, but then-- It's okay. He's okay.

"David?"

No, he thinks, but holds back from saying. He's not David, he refuses to be David ever again. He's Joonam, only Joonam.

"Hey, he's waking up!" calls another voice. Familiar.

His head hurts, and it's not just from the spikes in his brain. He moans again.

"It's okay," soothes the voice, the first one. Familiar. "David?"

Not David. His annoyance gives him the strength to open his eyes, just barely. The lights are low but they still hurt, everything hurts, he closes his eyes tight. Why does he--

Screaming, he remembers screaming in agony as-- He remembers water and the taste of strawberries and--

He still tastes strawberries at the back of his throat. God, his throat hurts, his chest-- Exhaustion weighs him down. It's hard to think.

Worry leaks into his mind, not his own but from--

He feels her gloved hand touching his. Syd. He cracks open his eyes again and she's looking down at him, tired blue eyes wide with worry, thoughts spiked with fear.

He feels a small urge to-- Reassure her. "Syd?" he rasps, weakly.

A rush of relief from her, and then-- She gives a tiny smile. "I'm here," she tells him, cautiously happy.

Joonam remembers the other familiar voice. Lenny. He turns and there she is, but he can't hear her mind, her thoughts. She's in the mainframe, not here. Because she's dead.

"David?"

He's not David, he wants to make them stop calling him David, he--

Not yet. He doesn't want them to know yet. And his head hurts, everything hurts. He groans, winces.

"Easy," Lenny soothes, her casual tone barely hiding her worry. "You went down hard."

Syd lets go of his hand and pours him a small cup of water. "You were out for hours." 'I was afraid you'd never wake up,' she thinks. 'I was afraid--' And then she takes a breath, lets it out. Turns and offers him the water.

He feels-- Unsettled, with her so close. But he doesn't want to push her away either. And anyway he's thirsty. He lets her give him one sip, another, then rests his head back, closes his eyes, breathes, listens.

People already know he's awake. He can hear them thinking, worrying, wondering. If the transfer worked, if he's who they want him to be.

He isn't, and it gives him-- Satisfaction. He has to fight to not smile. Too soon to give the game away, after all.

He feels something soft under his hand, and looks down to see-- His college sweatshirt?

The infirmary door opens, and Amy comes through, startling him. Anger at being startled, anger at Amy surges in him, and he pushes it back down quickly but-- Amy saw it. Her expression shifts, her steps slow.

"David?" Amy says, cautious, worried. Worried like they're all worried, but they shouldn't be worried because he's fine, he's better, he's almost whole after decades of--

Calm. He has to be calm, in control. He's in charge now.

"Hurts," he says, and gestures at his aching head. "Everything's-- Jumbled up."

“Ptonomy’s waking everyone up,” Amy tells him, like it should make him feel better. “Doctor Orwell and Oliver will be here soon.”

Oliver. Shit.

No. Calm, be calm. Stick to the plan. He’s stronger than Oliver, stronger than all of these ants. His thoughts are shielded. Oliver will only hear what Joonam wants him to hear.

He’s in control.

He focuses on what he needs and wills it into existence. It feels quaint to call it a white room now, childish. An astral construct, a mental illusion designed to persuade. People only ever see what they want to see, so it's simply a matter of-- Knowing what they want. And that's so, so easy.

He hears them approaching. Oliver's thoughts are hidden but Doctor Orwell's are loud, racing with excitement. She can't wait to see how David turned out.

He'd kill her slowly if he actually cared about her.

"David," Oliver greets, warm and condescending, like Joonam's a child. But he's not at the kiddie table anymore.

"I just need to check you over," Oliver continues. "May I?"

As if Oliver wasn't reading his mind from the moment he woke up. Or trying to anyway. "Yeah," Joonam says, and god, even speaking is exhausting. He rests his head back against the pillow and closes his eyes.

Oliver's fingers gently touch his cheek, and Oliver's mind gently reaches in. It finds the astral construct, a chaos of false fragments barely managed by a false Dvd and a false Divad.

"Quite loud in here," Oliver says, kindly. 'Dvd, Divad, can I help?' he thinks.

'We got this,' the false Divad thinks back.

'Kinda busy,' the false Dvd thinks, tersely.

'The Davids got jumbled up,' the false Divad explains. 'We ended up with one mostly whole David and a lot of fragments. From both of them.'

'I see,' Oliver thinks.

'You guys handle David,' the false Divad thinks. 'We'll deal with-- The rest of him.'

'He's in safe hands,' Oliver assures them. And then his mind pulls away.

The real Dvd and Divad aren't awake yet. They're still unconscious, not yet aware that they're back in their old familiar prison-- Along with the pathetic little fragment that used to be David.

"My turn," Doctor Orwell says, taking Oliver's place. She checks on the sensors already stuck to Joonam's head, checks on the crown -- not noticing the subtle damage. She starts a fresh round of scans.

She won't find anything. The illusion in Joonam's mind is a smokescreen, for Oliver and everyone else. Just enough noise to drown out the truth, that their precious, worthless, broken David will soon be gone forever, and they're the ones who made it happen. Le Hachis Parmentier. Puppets, all of them, so easy to manipulate.

Joonam glances around, at Oliver and Lenny and Syd and Amy. They're all watching him closely. He wishes he had-- A pair of sunglasses to hide behind. He closes his eyes, listens to the machines beeping, listens.

Melanie. She's on one of the other beds, waking up from all the noise and realizing what's happening. It surprises him, how little he feels for her. But then she's just another ant.

More minds are approaching the infirmary, groggy and annoyed. Clark, who's giving away that Ptonomy's with them by thinking angry thoughts about him, and Kerry and Cary. Usually the both of them are nothing but noise. Kerry talks too much and Cary thinks too much. But their hurt and anger at each other has made them relatively quiet.

They should be grateful for what he did to them. He made them better, just like he made himself better. They were dying, afraid of their own truth. Now their body is young and strong, and their mind-- Ah, their mind is ready to become a beautiful sunrise.

They'll be better when they're whole. No more division. That's what's best for them, what's best for everyone. He is archēgon tēs sōtērias autōn, the model of their salvation.

"You said he was awake," Clark says.

"He's resting," Oliver says.

"You don't get to talk," Clark tells Oliver, coldly. "Well?"

"I've just started my tests, sir," Doctor Orwell says. "There's still-- An enormous amount of brain activity."

'I need to help,' Cary thinks to Kerry.

"Now you wanna share?" Kerry mutters.

'Kerry, please,' Cary thinks.

Kerry huffs, but allows Cary to take control. Cary walks their body over to look at the sensor readouts.

"Can he fight?" Clark asks. "Is he stable?"

"Physically?" Doctor Orwell asks. "Unlikely. He's integrating over twenty years of memories. Even with Divad's help, he's going to need time and rest."

"And mentally?" Clark asks, challenges. "Which David are we dealing with?"

"If I may?" Oliver asks.

Clark sighs. "Fine."

"There were several possible outcomes," Oliver says. "The best was that David would be able to fully accept his stolen memories without being traumatized by them."

"Which the Admiral and I both agreed was extremely unlikely," Ptonomy says. "He calculated a ninety-eight percent chance that restoring David's memories would be traumatic."

Clark gives another angry sigh. "Then why--"

"We needed David's soul in one body, not two," Ptonomy says. "We needed to heal the Karies and help David’s system be whole, however we could. So we came up with a plan. Put the memories back, but keep them away from David. Make a new alter to contain them."

"You saved Past David?" Syd asks, surprised.

"That was the plan," Ptonomy says.

"Did it work?" Syd asks, and Joonam can feel her hope, her fear. Delicious.

Oliver hesitates.

"How bad?" Clark asks.

"Difficult to say," Oliver admits. "His system appears to be-- Flooded with fragments. Dvd and Divad are doing their best to control the situation. But David himself--"

'Is he-- Gone?' Syd thinks, afraid.

"He's both of them?" Ptonomy asks.

"Pieces of both," Oliver says. "Given the number of fragments. What's left of both Davids is now-- Jumbled up. According to Divad."

"Great," Clark says, voice flat but anger sharp. "You went against my orders and you broke him."

"He's still David," Ptonomy defends. "We can help him, we just-- Need to assess."

"And the odds?" Clark challenges.

Ptonomy hesitates. "The Admiral's still calculating."

Clark scoffs.

"We need more information," Ptonomy protests.

"We had one weapon," Clark says, tightly furious. "One. Against that monster. And you broke it."

"We know all of David inside and out," Ptonomy says. "We can help him. And please, call him a weapon one more time."

There's a tense silence.

"You people made a choice," Clark says. "Now we all have to face the consequences." And then he walks out. 'Damn cameras,' he thinks, unhappily. 'This is gonna be bad.'

"Now what?" Syd asks.

"We keep going," Ptonomy says. "We figure out what's going on in David's head and we help him. Cary, how's it look?"

"Extremely noisy," Cary says. "Perhaps his mind will calm down once Dvd and Divad have calmed the fragments."

"We must focus on David himself," Oliver says.

"David?" Ptonomy says, his voice close.

Joonam cracks open his eyes again. The room still feels too bright. Ptonomy's in the chair next to the bed.

"Headache?" Ptonomy asks.

Joonam gives a weak nod.

"Are painkillers safe?" Ptonomy asks.

"Now that he's awake, yes," Doctor Orwell decides. She puts two pills in a small paper cup and hands it to Ptonomy. "See if this helps."

Ptonomy gives Joonam the pills and a little water. Joonam pauses, remembering how-- His body never hurt, never got sick, how he could control it completely. Remembering how he was always sick, how he couldn't control anything, how they forced him to take pill after pill that never helped. Remembering--

He takes the pills, swallows the water.

"I'd let you rest, but I don't think we have the time," Ptonomy admits. "We need to get you back on your feet as fast as possible. We need you stable with the crown off."

'The Divisions,' Syd thinks. 'If David's useless to them--'

"Which means we're gonna have a session," Ptonomy continues. "I know you're hurting, but we need to help you protect yourself from Farouk. That's how we're gonna stop him. Right?"

"Right," Joonam says, and he has to force himself not to smile at that. Amahl is part of him now, not some separate person. Ptonomy can talk all he wants, there's nothing they can do to stop what's coming, nothing.

Ptonomy presses the button to raise Joonam up into a sitting position. "I'll give you a few minutes for those painkillers to kick in." He gives Joonam an inspecting look. "Eyes hurt?"

"Everything's bright," Joonam admits.

"Ocular sensitivity?" Cary murmurs. "Perhaps inflammation in the visual cortex. The ventral stream is associated with long term memory."

Ptonomy gives a considering hum. "How about some sunglasses?" And then he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a pair. "Been carrying these around. Kind of a good luck charm."

Joonam wants nothing from Ptonomy, but-- He takes them anyway, puts them on. And he feels-- Better, wearing them. It feels right.

He closes his eyes and listens, out beyond the infirmary, beyond Division 3. Even at night, the city is full of life. He can hear the noise of thousands, millions of minds, chaotic and discordant. Soon he will unite them, remove their confusion and division and make the song of their minds something-- Beautiful. A sunrise beyond any other.

And then his mind pulls back to this small space, to the tiny minds around him. They're all wondering the same thing: who is David Haller now? What has their pet god become?

He can't wait to show them.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts.

Joonam opens his eyes. Everyone is gathered around him, Ptonomy and Oliver sitting to his right, Syd and Amy to his left. Lenny and Melanie standing by the foot of his bed, Melanie groggy and Lenny staring at him intensely. And off to the side, Cary and Doctor Orwell poring over their machines.

They all look so hopeful and determined. It's sweet, really. They think they can save him.

"Let's get started," Ptonomy says. "Oliver's relaying, but there's a lot of noise in your head right now. So we need you to be open with us, to tell us everything so we can help you. Do you think you can do that?"

As if any of these ants could even begin to understand the mind of a god. "Sure," Joonam lies.

"Great," Ptonomy says, and gives him one of those warm therapist smiles. "So how are you feeling?"

Angry. Victorious. Better. "Like I just had twenty-one years of memories shoved into my brain," Joonam says.

"I'm sorry," Ptonomy says. "I hoped we'd be able to protect you from those memories, to get them back into your system without hurting you. But it sounds like you weren't able to fully dissociate from your returning memories."

"No," Joonam agrees, lies.

"And that trauma," Ptonomy continues. "It was a huge shock, getting all that back. So a lot of pieces broke off, a lot of fragments. But David is still David. You're still yourself, no matter what you remember. That's part of your foundation. So let's start there. Tell me your foundation."

Joonam hesitates, trying to remember-- He can recall having sessions with Ptonomy, writing the words, but-- He can't remember what they are.

Not that they matter. They're David's words, not his. They have nothing to do with him.

'Shit,' Syd thinks. 'This is very, very bad.'

'Oh, David,' Melanie thinks, sadly.

He can't hear what the rest of them are thinking. They have no right to hide their thoughts from him, no right, but the Admiral's mainframe and Oliver's shields give him nothing.

"That's okay," Ptonomy soothes. "Sometimes we forget things. That's why we write down what's important." He picks up a notebook from the table and holds it out. It's David's notebook.

Joonam doesn't want it. But Ptonomy keeps holding it out for him.

Of course. They think he's their patient, their prisoner. They think they can tell him how to be, that they can control him, use him as their weapon.

But he's in control now, not them. He's in charge.

"David," Amy starts, gently. "We know this is-- Very difficult for you. But we need you to talk to us. Tell us what's going on, so we can help."

And then, as if in response to Amy's plea-- The David fragment starts to wake up, along with what's left of Divad and Dvd. And knowing they're watching, helpless, trapped inside his body--

"That's not mine," Joonam tells Ptonomy, gesturing at the notebook.

"It's not?" Ptonomy asks.

"No," Joonam says, firmly.

'What's happening?' Divad asks, disoriented. 'David, what--'

"Whose is it?" Lenny asks. "If it's not yours."

"The other David," Joonam says, letting his disgust show. "The fake one. The delusion."

'No,' Syd thinks, with a pulse of despair.

'David, please,' Dvd begs. 'This isn't you.'

The corner of Joonam's mouth twitches up as he savors her grief, Dvd and Divad's grief.

"So you're not that David," Ptonomy says, carefully. "You're the David from-- Before. Right?"

Joonam nods.

"Dvd and Divad said both Davids were jumbled up," Ptonomy says. "That's not true?"

"I have his memories," Joonam admits. "Some of them. But then-- Most of them aren't worth remembering. So why would I want them?"

"The other David," Syd says, her voice a thin layer of calm. "The 'fake' one. Where is he now?"

"Gone," Joonam tells her.

'No,' Syd cries, in her mind. 'I can't lose him again, I know he's here, I know--' And then her eyes widen. 'The compass.' She pulls at her necklace, opens the compass.

"You're lying," she declares, and stares at him like she's trying to see right into his soul.

"David, what you're saying," Melanie starts. "You know that's not possible."

'Who are all these people?' the David fragment wonders. 'Why can't I move?'

Joonam savors the confusion and pain swirling around him. "You don't know anything about me," he tells Melanie, irritated by her presumption. She was nothing, her mind a ruin, and he generously patched her up so she could be useful to him. But he doesn't need her anymore. He doesn't need any of them.

'Dvd, Divad.' Oliver's thoughts intrude, reaching out to them. 'I know you're busy but this is quite an emergency.'

'Oliver, we're trapped!' Divad calls back, but Oliver can't hear him over the noise from the astral construct.

"David," Ptonomy says, with calm determination. "If you have his memories, then-- Some part of you remembers your foundation. Not just David's but the foundation for your whole system. I know your headmates shared those words with you. I know you heard them. And one of the most important ideas in both those foundations is: You belong to yourself. You belong to yourself, David, not Farouk. You don't belong to Farouk."

Joonam can't help but laugh. Of course he belongs to himself.

He turns and sees Lenny staring at him with cold fury. "Whatever that shit beetle did to you, you're gonna fight it. And if you don't I'm gonna--"

And then Lenny suddenly collapses, falling to the floor. Ptonomy and Amy collapse. They slump in their chairs like marionettes with their strings cut, and their eyes are blank and lifeless.

"What--" Melanie gasps. She reaches for Lenny, as Oliver reaches for Ptonomy.

"Amy!" Syd tries to shake Amy awake, but her body just-- Topples over. Syd tries to pull her back up but her android body is too heavy and falls to the floor.

Syd looks at Joonam, shocked. "What--"

And then Joonam hears it. A buzz of excited thoughts, some glad and others angry, but all thinking the same things: 'They're arresting the mutants. It's over.'

"We're out of time," Oliver tells them, having obviously heard it, too. He stands and walks towards Melanie. "We have to--"

And then-- Pain. It hurts so much Joonam can't even scream, but he clings to consciousness. The crown-- It's the crown. He just has to-- He just--

"David!" Melanie rushes past Oliver and leans over Joonam, desperately tries to help him.

The infirmary door opens and Clark walks in, the remote for the crown in his hand. The soldiers on either side of him raise their guns.

"You can't do this!" Syd tells Clark, furious and scared.

"Don't let her touch your skin," Clark warns the soldiers, as they advance. And then--

Kerry rushes forward, a blur of motion as she launches into the soldiers and knocks them down one after the other. But more keep pouring in, and then one of them gets a lucky blow. The soldiers are on her in an instant, and then she's cuffed and there's a gun to her head.

'Kerry!' Dvd cries, and gives a scream of frustration.

"Nobody else has to get hurt," Clark tells them, as he walks over the bodies of his men.

"You're making a big mistake," Melanie growls, clinging to Joonam protectively.

"Take her," Clark tells the soldiers, and several soldiers swarm around Melanie.

"Melanie!" Oliver cries, and with a wave of his hand, the soldiers are shoved away from Melanie. "We have to go."

Melanie looks to Oliver, then-- Looks back to Joonam. "No," she tells Oliver. "I can't leave him."

"Oliver!" Syd calls, panic in her voice as more soldiers advance. 'David,' she thinks, distraught.

And then Oliver reaches back, and Syd reaches out to him-- And they're gone.

No. Joonam tries to break the crown, to regain the full force of his powers and smash Clark and his goons like the ants they are-- But the pain doesn't stop, and his vision is fading at the edges.

Melanie raises her hands in surrender.

Joonam's vision goes black, and the last thing he hears is Clark thinking-- 'I'm sorry.' And then the pain takes that away, too.

Chapter 190: Night: We gotta figure this out ourselves. (David)

Chapter Text

Pain. It hurts so much David can't even scream, but he clings to consciousness. He doesn't know any of these people -- even though they seem to know him -- but he's afraid for them as soldiers march in, guns raised.

The oldest woman leans over him and calls his name, and then past her he can just see the youngest woman fighting with the soldiers. When she's captured, Dvd cries out, but Dvd's just as trapped as David is.

David's head is screaming with pain, screaming so loud he can't think, and then-- Just when the blonde woman and older man vanish, the pain starts to fade, everything starts to fade.

Relief. David is glad to fade away too, but then-- There's a pulling sensation and--

He's back in the white room. He startles and realizes-- He can move. He's not trapped anymore. And the pain is gone. He reaches up and touches his head but there's nothing on it.

There's a cry of rage and a loud thump, and he turns to see that Dvd just punched the wall. He looks furious, but there's tears streaking his face.

Divad's here too, and he approaches Dvd. "Dvd," he starts, gently.

Dvd rounds on Divad and swings, but Divad jumps back. Dvd bares his teeth at him but then turns away again, distraught.

Divad turns away from Dvd. He walks to the opposite wall, rests his hand flat against it and then-- Turns and leans back and slides down. He hugs his knees and looks utterly devastated.

David looks down at himself and realizes-- His clothes have changed again. Now he's wearing pajamas, like he was in the infirmary. What was that place? Why couldn't he move? Who were all those people and-- And why did his body say all those things that hurt them? He didn't want to say any of that.

He wonders if they were more fragments, but-- They didn't feel like fragments.

He looks at Dvd and Divad again and tries to think of some way to comfort them. But he only just met them and doesn't really understand what's happening. Their pain feels too big for him to help with.

He looks around the room. It's the same as before, with the same astronomy posters on the wall, but he doesn't see his rational mind anywhere. He goes over to the open sliding doors and pushes aside the curtains. There's a small concrete patio on the other side, and then-- Nothing. A flat, endless sky in all directions.

Maybe his rational mind is hiding in the bathroom with the fragments. David walks over to the door and knocks, then opens the door. It's empty. All the fragments are gone, and so is his rational mind. David hopes they're safe, wherever they are. His rational mind promised to keep them safe.

David's just about to leave when-- He hears a quiet sob. He looks behind the open door-- And there, huddled in the corner, is a fragment. Just one this time, and an adult, but still youngish. He looks almost as upset as Dvd and Divad, but mostly scared.

"Um, hi," David says.

The fragment stares at him for a long moment and then-- "David?"

"So everyone keeps telling me," David says, lightly.

The fragment pushes himself up, hesitates, and then-- Launches himself at David. David yelps as the two of them crash to the floor, the fragment squeezing him way too tightly.

"Let me in," the fragment begs. "Please, let me in, please." He sobs, frustrated, terrified. "I'm supposed to be you!"

David is torn between trying to pry himself free and trying to comfort the fragment, and ends up awkwardly doing both.

"David, what--"

David looks up to see Dvd staring down at them, frozen in shock.

"Dvd?" the fragment says, unsure. He lets go of David and reaches for Dvd, but Dvd steps back.

"Divad," Dvd calls, not taking his eyes off the fragment.

"Now what?" Divad calls back, tiredly, and then there's trudging footsteps and-- Now he's frozen in shock, too.

"How?" Dvd asks Divad.

"David?" Divad asks, unsure. But he's talking to the fragment.

The other David nods, and then-- Dvd grabs the other David and hugs him tightly. The fragment gives a sob of relief and holds him back.

"I was so scared," the other David says. "He said you were gone."

"How are you here?" Dvd asks, pulling back to look at the other David. "You're out there, calling yourself Joonam."

The other David looks away, ashamed. David stands up and brushes himself off.

"David?" Divad says, gently. "What do you remember? Do you remember the transfer?"

The other David nods. "I woke up and-- Everything was wrong and-- And then-- Amahl came. He--" He swallows. "I wanted to be with him, but--" His eyes fill with tears. "I couldn't, I-- I ran away."

“You broke off,” Divad realizes. “You fused with Amahl, but— Not all of you.”

“So which one’s the fragment?” Dvd asks.

“Neither? Both?” Divad rubs at his face. "None of this makes sense." He paces away, paces back. "Farouk's not part of our system. He's a separate person. Even when he was a parasitic soul, he had his own soul! He can't be part of ours!" He sighs. "I need to talk to Cary and Oliver."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," Dvd says. "We gotta figure this out ourselves. And then we gotta fix it so we can get our body back before Division 3 kills us!"

"It was the transfer, it had to be," Divad says. "Maybe we were wrong, maybe-- Farouk did find a way to turn his soul into David's? No, David was sure that was his soul, and Oliver-- A graft? Is that even possible? He did graft Kerry and Cary's soul-- And Amy's-- But they were still separate souls, just-- Connected---"

Dvd groans. "Soul, no soul, who cares? We need to get the shit beetle out!"

"We can't get him out until we know how he got back in!" Divad says, annoyed. "We checked everything. How did he get in?"

The other David turns to David, and looks at him with puppy-dog eyes. "Can we fuse now? We're supposed to fuse."

Joonam wanted him to fuse, too. The other David is a lot less threatening about it, but--

"Maybe later," Dvd tells the other David. He turns to David and sighs. "We gotta put you back together."

"How?" Divad asks. "The rest of him is in Joonam. The rest of both of them.”

"Then we shatter Joonam," Dvd declares.

"We're not supposed to hurt our system," Divad says, annoyed.

"The shit beetle is not part of our system!" Dvd says. "I can kick his ass all I want!"

"The last thing Ptonomy told us was to remember our foundation," Divad says. "That's how we're supposed to save ourselves, remember?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling real saved," Dvd says, and rolls his eyes.

Foundation. David remembers those people talking about that, but he doesn't know what it means. "You belong to yourself," he echoes, remembering.

"I heard that before," the other David realizes. "You told me."

"I did?" David asks, surprised. It's new to him, he only just heard it, but-- Somehow the words stuck.

The other David nods. "There was more, but-- I can't remember."

Dvd and Divad exchange looks.

“David,” Divad says, to the other David. “When you fused with Amahl— Why did you run away?”

The other David looks away, ashamed. He hugs himself.

"Did he hurt you?" Dvd asks.

"No!" the other David insists. "He wanted to heal me. Like he always did. He wanted us to be whole together." He swallows. "He stepped into me and-- It was like-- The medication. I could feel his strength inside me, I--" He cuts off, overcome.

"But you rejected the fusion," Divad says.

"I wanted to stay," the other David says, voice tight with pain. "I wanted to be Joonam, to be his son, I wanted to be safe with him. But-- He-- He told me. He told me he's the monster and I couldn't--" Tears streak down his face.

"You said no," Divad says, gently. "You didn't want-- To be with someone who hurt you."

"He had to hurt me," the other David says, begging them to understand. "It was my fault. I should've stayed with him, I-- And now he's hurting everyone and it's my fault. If I'd just-- Been what he wanted--"

"No," David says, needing to say it even though he doesn't know why. "He's the one choosing to hurt people, to hurt us. None of this is your fault. You don't deserve to be hurt, you-- You deserve to be loved."

All three of them stare at him.

"Holy shit," Dvd says.

"It worked?" Divad says, amazed.

"He doesn't remember anything, how does he remember his foundation?" Dvd asks.

"Procedural memory," Divad says, breaking into a grin. "Just like-- He remembered sharing! It's cherries! Ptonomy's plan worked!"

Dvd gives Divad a skeptical look.

"Okay, okay," Divad sighs. "We still have to fix everything else. But--" He closes his eyes tight, thinking, and then opens them. "We had a shock, right? A really, really big shock. So we need to do our foundation work, all of us."

And then suddenly-- There's a round picnic table. And on it is a stack of notebooks and a box of pens.

"Teacher's pet," Dvd sighs, but he says it fondly.

David exchanges looks with the other David. Neither of them has any idea what's happening. But they follow Dvd and Divad to the table. Divad closes and locks the sliding door, and they all sit.

Divad passes out the notebooks and pens. The other David's notebooks are blank, but everyone else's already has a lot written in them. David flips through his and tries to make sense of it. It's mostly the same thing over and over again, but it starts out simple and then gets longer. There's a sketch of himself sleeping. There's a list of mental illnesses. There's the word 'NO' written over and over again. Tucked into the back of one notebook is another list titled 'Syd Trauma', and then--

A photo of a family, a man and a woman and a girl and a boy-- And the boy looks like the young fragments he met earlier. A page of some kind of writing practice. And some medical scans? And then the last--

Name cards. Dvd, Divad, and David.

"What is all this?" David asks.

"Evidence," Divad says. "You-- Had trouble remembering before. Those things helped you remember."

"But I don't remember them," David says, disappointed.

"The important thing is to keep doing the work," Divad says. "Some part of you does remember. But we need to make new memories, new connections, so you know you remember." He turns to the other David. "And we're going to help you decide who you want to be. You, David. Not Amahl, not anyone else."

The other David looks very uncertain.

"It's kinda weird," Dvd admits. "But if you wanna feel-- In control-- It helps."

"I'm not good at being in charge," the other David says.

Divad gives him an apologetic look. "I know. You were inside for a long time." He frowns, then looks resolved. "Let's get started. We all have two foundations: Our personal foundation and our system foundation. They help us have healthy relationships with ourselves and with each other." He turns to David. "Go to your last round of foundation work. I want you to read it to us, a section at a time. Tell us if it feels familiar."

"Uh, okay," David says. He starts at the top of the page. "'I am David. I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me. I belong to myself. I am love.'" He considers the words. "I belong to myself."

"Lenny gave it to us," Dvd says. "Do you remember Lenny?" He reaches into his notebook and pulls out a photo. It's one of the women from the infirmary.

"Lenny," the other David says, quietly. "She was-- Everything was so awful and-- She helped me feel better."

"She's good at that," Dvd admits. "She's our friend."

David stares at the photo, trying to connect with it. In the infirmary, she shouted at them before she fainted. She was so angry. In the photo, she's not exactly smiling but-- Something about her feels-- Safe.

"She feels safe," David admits.

"That's great," Divad says, pleased. "How about the other words? Do they feel like anything?"

"Um." David looks them over again.

"You said-- It wasn't my fault," the other David points out. "That I didn't deserve to be hurt."

"'I didn't deserve what happened to me,'" David reads aloud. "But I don't know what happened to me?"

"You were hurt," Divad says. "The monster hurt you, for years, for-- Our entire life."

"The monster," David echoes, remembering-- The purple forest. The dragon. "I drew a cage around it. I trapped it, but-- It still kept hurting me."

Divad frowns. "You remember that?"

"I don't know," David admits. None of it seemed quite real, but-- He doesn't know what real even means.

Divad writes something in his notebook. "Okay, we'll deal with that later." He hums, thoughtful. "But when you think about David being hurt--" He gestures at the other David. "Do you think he deserved that?"

"He didn't deserve it," David says, certain. He turns to the other David. "You didn't. Whatever he did to you-- You survived." He feels that with a strange intensity.

"Say it again," Divad tells him. "The first section, but-- Say it to David."

"Uh, okay." David turns to the other David. "You are David. You survived. You didn't deserve what happened to you. You belong to yourself and no one else. You are love."

The other David stares back at him, and he looks like he might cry again. "But I'm-- I'm supposed to be him. Joonam. I'm supposed to be Joonam."

"You're just supposed to be yourself," David tells him. "You only have to be who you want to be, not-- What someone else decided. You belong to yourself, not them. And-- Amahl, he hurt you, right? He's the monster?" He's not sure how that works, but he's trying to piece it together.

"Maybe he was lying," the other David defends.

"He lied to you and told you he was-- Someone who hurt you?" David asks, skeptically. "Even if that's true-- That still makes him someone who hurt you."

The other David hugs himself. "But he loves me."

"Okay," Divad soothes, intervening. "David, read the next section to David."

David looks down at the notebook again. "There are things you've lost you'll never get back," he tells the other David. "But you're here and you're not alone. You're loved and there's no shame in love. You're strong enough to heal."

The other David shakes his head. "I'm not." He turns to Divad and Dvd. "You know I'm not." He does start to cry then, and Dvd slides over and holds him.

"Okay," Divad says, thinking. "Say it again, but this time to yourself," he tells David.

"There are things I lost that I’ll never get back," David says, and it feels-- "But I’m here and I’m not alone. I’m loved and there’s no shame in love. I’m strong enough to heal." He runs the words over again in his head, reads them again.

"How do they feel?" Divad asks.

"Like they're mine," David says, and it's true. Whatever he's lost-- He lost so much that he can't even remember losing it. But he's here. He's not facing this alone. And even though he has no idea what needs to heal-- He feels strong enough to heal it.

And as for love--

He looks at the photo of Lenny on the table. He looks at Dvd and Divad, and thinks about the people in the infirmary. They're all trying to help him, somehow, he knows that even though he barely knows anything at all. Is that love? It feels-- Loving.

And shame-- He doesn't want to feel ashamed. He doesn't.

"David," Divad says. "Can I-- Hug you?"

"Okay," David says. Divad slides over and holds David, not desperately clinging like the other David but just-- Tender. David holds him back and it feels-- Good. It feels good and warm and-- Safe. It makes him feel safe and-- Happy. Loved.

Yes. This is love.

"I love you," Divad tells him, heartfelt. "I love you so much."

David pulls back to face him, and smiles crookedly. "I think-- I love you too."

Divad gives a soft laugh, then hugs David again.

"You are love," Divad tells him. "David is love."

"David is love," David echoes, and feels it more, now. It's more than just words on a page. It's something inside him, something he feels and knows.

He is David. He is love.

He feels the urge to-- Write that. He lets Divad go and turns to a blank page and writes: I am David. I am love. And then-- He write it again, changing it. I am David. I belong to myself. I am love.

Yes. That feels better.

"That's my foundation," he tells them, shows them.

The other David looks at his notebook. "But what about the rest?"

"I don't feel like I need it right now," David says. "Do you need it?"

The other David pauses. "Maybe?"

"Give it a try," Dvd urges. "Write it down, see how it feels."

"All of it?" the other David asks.

"Whatever feels like it'll help," Divad says.

The other David considers the words, and then writes and says aloud, "I am David. I--" He stops, uncertain.

"You know," Divad says. "At the beginning, when David wasn't even sure who he was, there were things that-- He let other people believe for him, until he was ready to believe it himself. Maybe we can do that for you."

"I feel-- Bad. For being David," the other David admits. "I'm not supposed to be him. I don't-- Want to be him."

"Tell us why," Divad prompts, gently.

The other David swallows. "David is-- He's weak, he's nothing, he-- He never does anything right, he--" He cuts off, fresh tears slipping out.

"David is strong," Divad tells him. "He's a person who always does the best he can. He deserves to be safe and loved and cared for."

The other David's chin crumples. He wipes at his eyes. "You're not supposed to be nice," he mutters.

Divad gives a breathy laugh. "I belong to myself, too. I decided to change. A lot of people helped me change. Maybe-- If you can change what you think David is, it'll be okay for you to be him."

The other David stares at him. "Can I do that?"

"Give it a try," Divad says. "What's your definition of David? What would it make you happy to be?"

The other David thinks about that. "Safe," he decides. "I want to be safe and-- Never make a mistake ever again."

"What else?" Divad prompts.

"I dunno," the other David says.

"What's it mean to be Joonam?" Dvd asks.

"It means being loved," the other David says, with relief. "It means-- I'm useful. I'm needed, I'm-- I belong."

"You belong to Amahl?" Dvd asks.

The other David puts his hand over his heart. "I'm safe with Amahl. That's what it means."

"Because he keeps you safe?" Dvd asks. "Because-- When you're with him, he's in charge."

"Yes," the other David says, with feeling.

"And if he's in charge, you never have to decide," Dvd continues. "So you can't make any mistakes. So you're safe. Because-- He knows what's best for you, for everyone. Right?"

"You understand," the other David says, amazed.

"We do," Divad says, soberly. "Joonam is out there and you're not a part of him. You tried to be Joonam with him, but you couldn't."

"I can try again," the other David offers.

"You could," Divad admits. "But there's a reason you left."

The other David looks away, ashamed.

"You don't deserve to be hurt," Divad says, gently. "You deserve to be safe and loved."

"No," the other David says, tightly.

"But you want to be," Divad says. "You want to be safe and loved. Right?"

The other David sniffs and shrugs.

"Part of our foundation work is-- A wish list," Divad says. "How about we start with that?"

"No," the other David says. "I can't-- Want things. It's not up to me."

"So what?" Divad says. "Who cares? Write it down anyway. See how it feels."

The other David gives him a very dubious look, but-- He picks up his pen again. "Wish list," he says and writes. "Be safe. Be loved." He stares at the words.

"How does that feel?" Dvd asks.

"Scary," the other David admits. "What if it's wrong?"

"Do you think it's wrong to be safe or loved?" Divad asks.

"I guess not," the other David says.

"Do you-- Feel safe and loved with us?" Dvd asks, uncertain.

The other David hesitates.

"It's okay if you don't," Dvd says, even though he's obviously upset. "'Safe' isn't really-- Something we ever had, right?"

The other David shakes his head.

"Remember I said-- We have a system foundation?" Divad says. "That's because-- Growing up trapped with the monster-- He taught us how to be, that we had to-- Hurt each other, hurt ourselves. But we learned that-- We don’t have to hurt our system and we never did. And if we love each other and work together, the pain will stop. You want the pain to stop, right?"

The other David nods.

"Maybe that's one for your wish list, too," Divad says.

The other David thinks about that, and then writes: Make the pain stop.

"You're doing great," Dvd says, encouraging.

The other David gives the tiniest quirk of a smile. He shrugs.

"Want to read us your wish list?" Dvd asks.

"Be safe," the other David reads. "Be loved. Make the pain stop."

"How does that feel?" Divad asks.

The other David shrugs, but-- He looks better. Happier.

"David, David," Divad says to both of them. "I want you to open your system foundation notebooks. Go to a new page and write this down. 'We're headmates. We share our life with healthy multiplicity, with love, acceptance, and forgiveness. We belong to ourselves.'"

Both Davids write down the words.

"You said that before," the other David realizes, looking at David.

"Do you recognize any of that?" Dvd asks David.

"I'm not sure," David admits. "But I like it. It feels-- Like-- Being loved and safe."

"It feels like that for us, too," Divad says. "I think-- When Joonam wakes up, we need to find some way to share our system foundation with him."

Dvd scoffs. "Are you serious? He's full of Farouk!"

"And he's full of David," Divad says. "Most of both Davids. We need to help them be David again. This is our system, our body, our soul, not his. We're stronger than him."

"Farouk's not gonna care about any of this," Dvd says.

"But Joonam might," Divad says. "Got any better ideas?"

Dvd huffs, annoyed. "I don't and you know it."

"Then we stick with the plan," Divad says. "We know what Joonam needs, thanks to David. So let's give it to him."

Dvd shakes his head, turns to a new page, and starts copying out his foundation work.

Chapter 191: Night: You're under arrest for the murder of David Haller. (Joonam)

Chapter Text

Joonam wakes to pain. His head-- It was bad before but now it's agony, an intense throbbing ache and sharp spikes of pain from all around.

"David?"

The crown. He should have destroyed that thing the moment he woke up, should have ripped it off and turned it to dust. But the pain is worth it, he glories in it because it's not only his pain, it's their pain, it's--

No.

Dvd and Divad and-- The David fragment-- They're gone.

Where are they? They should be here with him, forced to feel every moment of this agony, terrified and trapped in their body, his body, but--

"David?"

Cowards. They left him like they always leave him, always, running off to their precious bedroom, abandoning him--

No. No, their bedroom is gone. He feels a swell of satisfaction, remembering how he finally destroyed it. They must have locked themselves away in the white room. Fools. They think they can hide from him? This is his body, his system, his mind, all of it. Every fragment is his and he will hunt down every single--

"David? C'mon, I know you're awake."

The voice-- It's Clark. No, not just Clark--

Focus, he has to focus.

Joonam squints open his eyes and a wave of bright light forces them closed again. He groans and turns away, but that presses the spikes deeper into his brain and he screams through gritted teeth as he pushes himself up and sits, sways, eyes squeezed shut against the waves of brightness. He reaches up and feels blood on his head, some already dry and some fresh and sticky.

He cracks opens his eyes, looks around. He knows this place.

It's the courtroom.

They've trapped him in the forcefield again, the same one they trapped him in while those pathetic ants tried to judge him. He remembers being inside it, raging with fury, and remembers-- Being outside it, watching with amused anticipation.

There's soldiers standing guard along the wall, and he can feel their hatred. They can't wait to kill him. Well, he can't wait to kill them.

And speaking of people he's going to kill, Clark is standing there, watching him, the crown remote ready in his hand. And behind him, handcuffed and guarded, are Melanie and Kerry and Cary.

Good. His so-called headmates care so much for these ants. When he tortures them, Dvd and Divad might come out to play.

"David," Melanie calls, so worried for him. Cary and Kerry are worried, too, and Kerry's furious at Clark. Cary's thoughts are overflowing with guilt, so much wonderful guilt as he blames himself for David's destruction.

"He's bleeding," Melanie tells Clark, angry. "That crown is hurting him. We need to take it off."

"Not an option," Clark says.

"This is monstrous," Melanie declares. "He's our patient."

"He's my prisoner," Clark replies.

"You're torturing him!" Kerry says, tears in her eyes. "Let him go or else!"

Clark is unmoved. "I brought you here so you could fix him," he tells them. "If you can't--" He gestures to the guards.

"Wait!" Melanie says, holding up her cuffed hands. "Just-- Let me talk to him."

Clark motions for the guard to wait.

Melanie walks forward, eyes wide with pity. For a moment, all Joonam can see is Syd, standing where she's standing, looking at him with that same expression. But the painful memory only amuses him. Syd was so easy to manipulate. She hurt him exactly how he wanted.

"David?" Melanie calls, gently. She kneels down beside him, reaches for him-- But she's stopped by the force field. "David, can you hear me?"

Joonam wants to say something sneering, something that will make her feel as small as she truly is-- But the words feel so hard. He needs to fix his body, he knows how to fix his body, he just-- Can't.

Maybe it's the crown and the spikes in his brain. He needs the rest of Divad, needs Divad's powers so he can use them to heal. He needs to be whole.

He needs the crown off, too, but Clark's itchy trigger finger is on the remote, waiting for an excuse. And Joonam feels so slow.

"Yeah," he slurs, answering Melanie.

We're going to get you out of here, she thinks, promises. And then she realizes, You can't hear me. Oh, David, what a mess we are.

"David," Melanie says aloud. "I know that-- Our memories of what happened-- They're not exactly the same." She gives him a sad smile. "But we spent almost a whole year together in that lab. I care about you and-- I hope you know you can trust me."

She waits for him to reply, and glances over at Clark and then back again. "David, this is very important. We need your help, we need-- Dvd and Divad." 'I'd talk to them myself, but--' "Can you talk to them?"

"No," Joonam says, feeling oddly honest, in this moment. "They're gone." They'll pay for leaving him, they'll pay.

"Gone?" Melanie asks. "Are they gone like-- The other David is gone?"

Joonam gives a strained laugh. "No. They're hiding. Cowards."

"Hiding?" Melanie echoes, and frowns.

Joonam is sick of talking to her already. And every wave of light hurts. He closes his eyes and pulls up his knees, hugs them.

Divad. He needs Divad so he can heal.

Melanie gives a frustrated sigh. "David-- The Divisions-- We need your help to stop them from making a terrible mistake. We need you, I need you, please, just--" She pauses. "The monster is still out there. And Amahl--" Melanie's voice wavers. "I still can't believe-- I know how much you love him. How much he loves you. We're a family, David. Without my powers, without-- I need you to help me save him."

"Amahl Farouk is the monster," Kerry tells her, annoyed.

"He's my husband," Melanie insists. "I know my husband, I know who he is."

'This was a mistake,' Clark thinks, tiredly. 'This whole thing was a mistake.'

"You don't know anything," Kerry says, dismissive.

'Kerry,' Cary chides.

"Don't 'Kerry' me!" Kerry says back. "You don't get to tell me what to do when you're trying to leave me!"

'I'm not trying to--' Cary starts, hurt.

"You are," Kerry says, certain. She turns on Melanie. "And you need to remember your real husband so you'll stop being wrong."

'I don't think it's that simple,' Cary protests.

"It's exactly that simple," Kerry declares. She rounds on Clark. "And you need to stop being a jerk. You're supposed to be helping Cary make the world better and you're not."

'Kerry, there may not be a Division 4 without David,' Cary says, unhappily.

"Of course there's gonna be a D4," Kerry says. She glares at Clark. "Right? You're not gonna go back to killing mutants just cause someone told you to. Right?"

Clark stares back at her.

Kerry's eyes narrow, and she marches towards Clark, her thoughts focused on the most painful spot on his shins to kick-- When she stops.

"Cary, stop!" she says, angry.

But Cary doesn't stop. He struggles for control of their body and then-- Cary slumps, relieved. "I'll give it back in a moment, I promise, I just--" He shakes his head. "Clark. I know this situation is-- We may not even survive but--" He struggles for the right words.

"I'm following my orders," Clark says, and despite his impassive expression there's a hint of regret in his voice.

"I suppose you are," Cary accepts. "But I believe-- I know you're a good man, a better man than you've allowed yourself to be." He points at Joonam. "David needs our help."

"And if we let him go, he'll run right back to Daddy," Clark replies. "Right?" he asks Melanie.

"Amahl needs us," Melanie defends.

"Do you actually still believe that?" Clark challenges.

"Melanie, you remember Summerland," Cary reminds her. "You remember who you are. I know it's-- Painful to acknowledge the truth. To accept that-- The person you thought you were-- Wasn't you at all. But the truth is important." He braces himself. "And my truth is-- I'm an identity. Kerry and I are a system, not two separate people. That's what we've always been and-- That's what we'll always be."

Joonam can feel Kerry's surprise and happy relief. 'We are,' she says, pleased. 'We're a system, Cary. Just like the Davids.'

"Just like the Davids," Cary agrees. "I'm sorry I tried to leave. I've been-- Very afraid. Of being inside, of-- Losing myself. But we've always been a system and we always will be."

'We will,' Kerry agrees. Then, regretful: 'I'm sorry I said those mean things. I was just-- I was afraid, too.'

"It's all right," Cary soothes, forgiving.

All that love, it's sickening. It makes Joonam sick. He can't stop his lip from curling in disgust.

And then he feels a ripple of shock in the room. He looks up and Kerry is staring at him, back in charge of her body again. He meets her gaze and it feels like she's seeing right through him.

"You're not David," she declares.

'We know that,' Cary says. 'He's Past David.'

"He's not Past David either," Kerry says. She steps towards him, intent. "You're not any David."

"What's going on?" Melanie asks.

"Tell me who you are," Kerry demands.

'Are you-- Are you quite sure?' Cary asks.

"I'm sure," Kerry says.

"Someone's inside him?" Clark asks, with a flush of fear, excitement. "Farouk?" 'If he's back inside, I can-- I can kill them both. I can press the button.' His grip on the remote control tightens.

"If it was Farouk, I'd know," Kerry says. "It's not Farouk either."

'Then who--' Cary wonders. 'A new identity? Ptonomy's plan to-- Isolate David's trauma--'

"He's a new identity," Kerry declares, telling Clark and Melanie. She turns back to Joonam. "A mean one."

Clever. The corner of Joonam's mouth twitches upwards.

'Damn it.' Clark's grip on the remote eases. Joonam can feel Clark trying to be annoyed but mostly he's relieved. "So who are you?"

They're all focused on him again, but now they're too curious to be afraid. Clark wants to understand him, not kill him, which means--

Joonam closes his eyes and concentrates. His mind reaches into the crown and this time there's not just a tiny spark but a crackle of electricity and a burning smell as he fries the whole thing. He cries out again as the spikes retract, it hurts--

And then it's done. He feels the full force of his powers rushing back.

'Shit,' Clark thinks, and presses the button hard, and again-- But it's too late.

Joonam stands up. He lifts off the crown and then holds it out and burns its atoms into dust. Black particles fall from his hands to the floor.

Every wave of bright light still feels like a spike in his brain. But now, all he has to do is--

With a thought, there they are. His sunglasses. Yes, just what he needs. He slides them on and feels much more himself.

Everyone stares in horrified shock. The guards brace themselves for a fight.

"You said he wasn't Farouk," Clark mutters.

"He's not!" Kerry defends, but she's unsure now. She straightens her back and steps right up to the force field and stares at him. "You're not Farouk," she tells him, a desperate command.

'Kerry,' Cary says, wary. 'Perhaps we should--'

Joonam takes a sudden step towards her and she jumps back, startled, Cary yelping with fear. Joonam chuckles, amused.

He turns to see Melanie holding her right hand, rubbing it like it hurts. And Clark-- Joonam can feel his grief. Clark tried so hard to not care about David, but he just couldn't help himself.

'How did Farouk get back into David?' Cary asks, devastated. 'Dvd should have kept him out. Past David-- We checked everything--'

"I don't care how he got back in," Kerry answers. "We're gonna get him out again." She turns to Clark. "Lemme in there so I can punch him!" She turns back to Joonam. "I'm gonna stab you in the heart! Twice!"

'That would be stabbing David in the heart,' Cary warns.

"Oh," Kerry says, faltering. She glares furiously at Joonam, frustrated by this new information.

"Are you--" Melanie starts, needing, pained. She rubs at her head. Her thoughts are muddled, confused. "Amahl," she says. "Amahl Farouk." And then her eyes start to clear. "I remember," she says, stunned. "You're the monster, David's--" A fresh wave of horror pours off her. Violation. 'What did he do to me?'

Clark hands off the useless remote control to a guard, then steps forward. "Congratulations," he says, blandly. "You got what you wanted. Now what? Still going to use David to end the world?"

"End the world?" Joonam mocks. "Please. David was the dangerous one." He gestures at the courtroom around them. "Isn't that what this was all about? Your trial. Your judgement. You declared him guilty, swore to end his life. And now-- Your sentence has been passed. You should thank me." He smirks. "You should all thank me."

"Thank you?" Melanie scoffs, her mind a whirl of emotions.

Joonam scoffs. "Was it not your deepest wish to leave your humanity behind, to be a powerful mutant?" he asks her. "To forget the love that tormented you? Do you remember him, your Oliver?"

Melanie says nothing.

"Ah, those memories might never return," Joonam says. "You'll be free. My gift to you."

"You're wrong," Cary says, overcome with anger.

"And you," Joonam says. "Such fear of death and loss. And now-- You're whole. Young, healthy, strong. You're who you always wished to be."

Cary and Kerry say nothing.

Joonam turns back to Clark. "I believe we still have an arrangement. As your-- Contractor."

Clark considers this. "No."

Joonam cocks his head. "No?"

"We needed you to help contain David. If you've killed him--" A pulse of unwanted grief from Clark. "--then your contract is terminated."

"Good," Joonam says. "Then I'm free to go?"

"No," Clark says. "You're under arrest. For a lot things, but mainly-- For the murder of David Haller. And Dvd and Divad Haller. I assume you murdered them, too?"

Joonam rolls his eyes. "They were delusions, not people. You understand that. Non compos mentis?" He turns around, looking at the courtroom, the orb. He looks down at the nozzle that sent in the gas when he tried to escape. He reaches down, reaches out with his powers, but the nozzle is just outside the force field. The field shimmers as it blocks his powers, and he pushes harder, harder--

But it's not enough. It wasn't enough before, but he felt like he could have broken through if the gas hadn't knocked him out. Now he feels-- Weak. And he realizes--

Dvd. It wasn't just his powers before, Dvd helped him. And whatever's left of David--

Damn it. He's still in too many pieces.

"Having trouble?" Clark asks, amused.

Joonam glares at him. Then he smirks. "Now that David's gone, you can get back to killing mutants. You must be so relieved. All that blood on your hands but it's never enough. Gotta scratch that genocide itch."

Clark doesn't look so amused anymore.

Joonam rounds on Cary. "That's who you're cozying up to. The real monster. Do you know how many mutants he's slaughtered? All these guards, all the Divisions-- It's their job to put us down. They'll never help mutants. You think they'll let you live? Stay with them and you'll never see daylight again. Free me-- And I'll stop them."

He can feel Cary's turmoil, Kerry's anger. Joonam turns to Melanie.

"Free me and I'll make you a mutant," Joonam promises. "All those powers you're missing? I can make them real. Your deepest wish come true. No more worthless, weak humanity. You'll finally be special, you'll finally matter."

He can see his words hit home. She's so easy to manipulate, so full of ideas she's afraid to even acknowledge. Melanie will turn on Clark, and then Cary and Kerry will take her side, and they'll need Joonam to save them from the Divisions. And maybe he will save them, for a while. He likes to have an audience. Maybe he'll save all of David's friends and let them watch as he turns every last soldier to dust.

And then he'll torture them forever. That's what he promised to do if they let David die. And he is a man of his word.

"No," Melanie says, with sudden, quiet resolve. "I remember being a mutant and being human and-- It doesn't matter." She looks over at Cary. "I never needed powers to help people, to make a difference."

A wave of relief and love from Cary. "You're right," Cary tells her, warmly. He turns to Clark. "I know you don't want to hurt us. You and the Divisions are capable of change. You're already changing. You don't have to go back, no matter what anyone says."

"Yeah!" Kerry adds, enthusiastic. "And fuck the shit beetle." She puts up her middle fingers at Joonam, and her handcuffs jangle.

Cary gives an internal sigh. 'Fuck the shit beetle,' he agrees.

"How cute," Joonam drawls. "I can hear them now, your world leaders. Preparing their orders, their final solution for mutantkind. Small-minded animals, terrified of what they can't comprehend. The only thing they respect is power. And I am power." He smiles, showing his teeth.

Melanie and Cary and Kerry and Clark-- He can taste their fear. It's delicious.

"Take your time," Joonam tells them. "Consider your future. When you need me, I'll be here."

He turns away from them and makes a chair, and sits, facing the opposite wall. If Dvd and Divad won't come out-- He closes his eyes and goes back inside himself to claim what's his. And this time he won't take no for an answer.

Chapter 192: Night: Everything David was is inside me. (Joonam)

Notes:

I'm still alive! 2020 shoved me down for a rough couple of months, but I'm climbing back up.

Chapter Text

When Joonam sends his mind into the white room, a force pushes him away.

He scoffs. It must be Dvd. They think they can hide from him?

Dvd is strong, but Joonam's stronger. He pushes back against the force, determined to make it through. He's going to get through because he needs them, he needs to make them part of him.

And then suddenly the pressure stops. Joonam opens his eyes and sees--

The bedroom. Impossible. It was destroyed, he remembers destroying it. But he's sitting on his childhood bed, and there's that familiar blue wallpaper, dotted with red and blue astronauts. Astronomy posters, a telescope, toys all over--

The lamp, the blue rocket lamp-- It should be on the dresser-- But it's gone.

It doesn't matter.

He hears voices, muffled through the wall. He slips off the bed and walks to the door. There shouldn't be anything on the other side. He remembers how small the room felt, sometimes, from the fragments that ran away from David and hid here until Dvd and Divad snatched them up. He remembers never being able to come here because the monster stopped him. He remembers holding on to David and refusing to let him leave him. He remembers--

He shakes off the memories and opens the door. On the other side is the upstairs hallway of his childhood house.

This shouldn't be possible. Dvd and Divad can't make white rooms, they can't make a whole house. The David fragment?

He hears the voices more clearly, recognizes Dvd and Divad. They're downstairs. He walks down the steps, braced for another fight, and smells-- Something baking, something sweet. He smells--

Cherry pie?

He walks into the kitchen and there they are. Dvd is sitting at the counter, cutting open cherries and pitting them, and Divad is pulling a finished cherry pie out of the oven. They both smile when they see him.

"Joonam," Divad greets, warmly. He puts the pie on a hot plate on the counter. "C'mon in, grab a seat."

Dvd leans over the pie and breathes in the steam. "That smells amazing." He gives a longing sigh. "Gotta let it cool." He picks up the bowl of pitted cherries and walks past Joonam. He sits down at the kitchen table and puts the bowl in the center and--

Joonam stares.

There are two Davids at the table, and they both reach into the bowl and take a cherry and eat it. They make the same happy expression as they eat. One of the Davids is the David fragment who hit him with the fire extinguisher, and the other--

He's younger, about twenty. He's--

"What the hell are you doing here?" Joonam says, angrily.

The younger David fragment immediately cowers, all his happiness replaced by shame. Dvd and the older David shift protectively, guarding the younger David.

"We'll talk about that," Divad says calmly, walking over. He sits next to the older David, leaving only the seat between Dvd and Divad free.

He sees what this is now. They want him to sit with them so they can be one big happy system. Bullshit.

He walks over and shoves the pie off the counter. It smashes on the floor, a mess of cherry filling splattered across the floor, completely ruined. Good.

"Hiding in here, making pies," Joonam sneers. "Do you even care what's going on out there? They're going to kill us."

"We know," Divad says, annoyingly calm.

"We can help," Dvd offers. "Just let us control our body again."

"My body," Joonam says, sharply. "All of this is mine. You are mine. The only way you'll ever control my body is if you're part of me." He glares at the younger David. "Get back in here right now."

The younger David starts to get up, but Dvd and the older David stop him.

"He doesn't want to be part of you," Divad says.

"I tried," the younger David says, voice tight with shame. "I know I should but--" He gives Joonam a helpless look. Pathetic.

"Unbelievable," Joonam says, shaking his head. "You finally had the chance to be better, to be me. And you ruined it, just like you always ruin everything."

"He chose to be himself," Divad counters. "Just like we're choosing to be ourselves. And so can you. You don't have to be what Farouk wants you to be. You can be David."

"I will never be David," Joonam snarls.

"You don't have to be," the older David soothes. "If you want to be Joonam-- Then you're Joonam. And that's okay."

Dvd is less than thrilled by that.

"David's right," Divad admits. "Acceptance is part of our foundation, our way of life as a healthy system. Love, acceptance, and forgiveness. Right?"

"Right," Dvd grits out.

"We love you, Joonam," Divad says, earnestly. "We don't have to fight. We don't have to hurt our system. If we work together, whatever pain you're in-- We can make it stop."

"You wanna make the pain stop?" Joonam challenges. "Fuse with me. Once we're whole, no one will ever hurt us again."

"Fusing would hurt us," Divad says. "It would take away who we are. And if you truly did fuse with Farouk-- I've had his ideas in my head for too long and I don't want them anymore."

"I am a Farouk," Joonam tells them. "Joonam Farouk. The ideas in my head are mine. If you love me, if you accept who I am, then you'll take everything in here." He taps on his forehead.

"And if we won't?" Divad asks. "Fusing has to be consensual. It has to be something we both want. And what I want, what all of us want, is healthy boundaries. It's to be able to say no to the things that hurt us. We want our system to be safe."

"I don't want a system," Joonam says, knowing it will hurt them, and he's glad it hurts them. "There's only room in this body for one mind, my mind. No David, no Amahl, no Dvd, and definitely no Divad."

"Amahl," the younger David says, soft, mournful. "He's really-- Gone?"

"He's me," Joonam tells him. "He gave himself to me because he loves me. And if you love me you'll give yourselves to me, too. You'll help me be whole."

"How the hell does Amahl Farouk make you whole?" Dvd grumbles. "He's not part of us!"

"I've been part of us for over thirty years," Joonam counters. "Without me, you wouldn't even exist."

"We exist because you invaded our body and tortured us!" Dvd counters, upset.

"That's why you need to let me put us back together," Joonam insists. It's so obvious to him, why are they fighting this? "I can fix us, make us what we were always supposed to be."

"David is supposed to be David," Dvd says, lip curled in disgust. "Farouk messed you up like he always does, and we're the ones who always have to put you back together. The only thing that's gonna make you whole is breaking you apart so we can kill the shit beetle once and for all!"

Joonam rolls his eyes. "Violence. Always violence."

"Fuck you," Dvd snarls.

"Dvd," Divad says, intervening. Dvd glares at Divad but backs down.

Divad looks at the younger David, considering, and then turns to Joonam. "When David and Amahl-- Fused to become you-- Part of David was unable to go through with the fusion." He gestures to the younger David. "So the part of David that stayed-- He could accept Amahl, despite everything Amahl did."

"Of course," Joonam says. Of course he accepts himself.

"And all the ways Amahl hurt David, the ways-- You hurt yourself," Divad continues. "That happened because-- It was right? David deserved it?"

"He still deserves it," Joonam says, narrowing his eyes at both David fragments. The younger one cowers, but the older one stares back, calmly defiant.

"Then-- We want the David part of you to know that-- We love him," Divad says. "What happened to David was never his fault. It shouldn't have happened and he didn't deserve it. And we are so proud of him for fighting so hard. We know he's still fighting, that-- Some part of you is still fighting to be David."

Joonam doesn't like how those words make him feel. "Such sweet words," he mocks. "Would you say them to Amahl?"

"I'll say them to Joonam," Divad says. "You don't deserve what's happened to you. You deserve to be safe. And if you're hurt and angry-- That's okay. Those feelings don't make you a bad person."

"No," Joonam agrees. "What makes me a bad person is how I'm going to torture you for the rest of our life." He bares his teeth in something resembling a smile. "Unless, of course, you give me what I want."

"Never," Dvd promises.

Joonam paces away, past the ruined pie, and paces back. "You think you know me? You don't know anything, you don't even know yourselves. You're not real." He taps his chest. "I made you. You're my delusions. I'm the only one who's real. Don't you want to be real?"

"If we're your delusions, that means you're delusional," Dvd smirks.

Dvd takes a cherry from the bowl and eats it, smugly. Joonam grabs the bowl and throws it, smashes it against the wall. Everyone startles, and the younger David's eyes go wide with fear. Cherry juice splatters down the wall like blood.

"I'm going to make you scream," Joonam promises.

"Can't really get into the fusing mood if I'm screaming," Dvd says, blandly.

Joonam clenches his jaw. He looks around at the kitchen, at the refuge these two useless David fragments somehow built, and all he feels is angry. This white room is part of his mind, not theirs. They don't get to change his mind.

The kitchen starts to tremble, and then the whole room shakes like an earthquake. Dvd and Divad's eyes go wide with realization, but it's too late--

And then the kitchen is gone, the house is gone, the bedroom is gone. They're in the white room as he made it, pure and clean, a sprawling white bed and white furniture and white paintings and white flowers. A place of satisfaction, where he finally began to understand what he needed to be.

The four of them are sitting on the white sofa now, gaping like stunned fish. Joonam walks over and sits in the plush white chair opposite them.

"Here's how this is going to go," Joonam tells them. "You're going to give yourselves to me right now. And if you don't, I'm going to torture you. I will make every second of your tiny, pathetic existence a living hell."

Dvd gives a mocking laugh. "We survived the real Farouk for decades. And you're not him anymore."

"He's right," Divad says. "Half of you is David. And David wouldn't torture us."

"Is that what you think?" Joonam says, evenly. He leans back, considering his options. "You think David doesn't want revenge for what you did to him? You tortured me, Divad, all so you could steal my life." He shakes his head, disappointed. "And Dvd. What you did to me for all those years, using me night after night--" He makes a pitying face at the David fragments. "How can you ever trust them again?"

The younger David fragment swallows, looks away. "They didn't-- They were the monster-- I mean--" He shakes his head, confused. "They love me."

"And that's what love is to you?" Joonam asks. "Lies and abuse. Imprisonment. Rape."

"Shut your face," Dvd warns, furious.

"You're afraid of the monster?'" Joonam says. "There is no monster. There never was. It was only the division that hurt us. When we fuse, when we all fuse-- The pain will be gone."

"I know," the younger David says, quietly. "I want that, but--"

"David," Divad says, worried.

"I'm so tired of being me," the younger David tells Divad. There's tears in his eyes. "I'm tired of being scared and-- I know you want to help me, but--" He swallows. "I wanted to be him." He gestures at the older David fragment. "I wanted to be him because he was better. And now most of him, most of-- Both of us-- Aren't David." His voice cracks. "So why should I be David when that means nothing but pain?"

"Because it wasn't your fault," Divad says, urgent. "It was Farouk's choice to hurt us, Amahl's choice. He wanted revenge against someone else, against someone we never even met. He didn't hurt you because David is meant to be hurt. He hurt you because he enjoyed it, that's all. And whatever's going on inside Joonam, Amahl is still hurting David and we're going to stop him."

Joonam stands and offers his hand to the younger David. "C'mere."

The younger David starts to stand, but then--

"Wait," says the older David, his hand on the younger David's arm. "The rest of me-- Is him?"

"The rest of both of us," the younger David says.

"So-- All my memories," the older David says. "He has them?"

Joonam rolls his eyes. Davids are always so stupid. "Yes, I have them."

"All of them?" the older David asks, somehow still surprised.

"I remember everything," Joonam tells him, proudly.

"Okay," the older David says, and looks thoughtful. Then he stands. "Then I want to fuse with you."

"For fuck's sake," Dvd groans.

"David, you can't," Divad says.

"I belong to myself," the older David says, confident. "I want my memories back. If that's where they are, then-- I'm going in to get them."

"That's not how fusing works," Divad says, frustrated. "If you fuse with him, you'll become part of him. You won't be yourself anymore. You'll think his thoughts, feel his feelings."

"And he'll think my thoughts and feel my feelings?" the older David asks.

"You're tiny," Divad admits. "Just a fragment."

The older David considers that. "But if a lot of him is me-- Then I won't be just a fragment anymore."

Joonam raises an eyebrow. "You think you're stronger than me?"

"I want to fuse with you so I can remember," the older David says. "But I'll always be myself."

Joonam chuckles. "Sure, kid. Nice story." He turns to the younger David. "You coming too?"

The younger David stands. "I want to be you."

"You will be," Joonam promises.

Joonam opens his arms, and the younger David walks into them-- And then into Joonam. The older David meets his gaze, determined. And then he walks into Joonam.

Joonam sighs, pleased, then looks to Dvd and Divad. They're devastated.

"David is gone," he tells them, rubs their noses in it, and he feels-- Free. All that weight, that guilt and shame and pain-- It's finally gone.

But he still needs the rest of himself if he's going to be truly free. So he can heal his body, destroy his prison and then-- And then--

"David," Divad says, voice tight with grief. "We failed him. Farouk-- Farouk won."

"No," Dvd says, furious, heartbroken. He stands, and a force slams Joonam across the room, smacks him against the wall. A white vase full of white flowers topples off a white dresser and falls, smashes.

Joonam just laughs. "You wanna hurt me? Hurt me. Just remember-- Everything David was is inside me."

Dvd turns away, his whole body tense with fury, and then he turns back and the force slams Joonam to the floor. Joonam sits up, still laughing, and wipes the dripping blood across his face. Dvd shudders in horror and his face crumples.

"Dvd, stop," Divad pleads, walking over to him. "This isn't helping."

"I have to save him," Dvd tells him, begging him to understand. "It's what I'm for."

"I know," Divad soothes. "But this isn't the way."

"And what is?" Dvd asks, desperate, angry. "Your stupid idea? He doesn't care about us! He doesn't want a system!"

"You're right," Divad admits. "But-- We're used to that, right? David not caring about us. Not wanting a system."

Dvd stares at him. "This is not the same! Farouk made him forget us!"

"He did," Divad says. "Farouk got in the way. He's in the way now. But David's still right here. We know where he is. We just have to--" Realization comes over him. "We have to go in and get him."

"You're delusional," Dvd says, shaking his head.

"Listen to me," Divad pleads. "I think David, our David-- I think he's right. Even after forgetting everything-- He's so strong, he's always been so strong. And if we help him--"

Realization comes over Dvd's face, but he shakes it off. "I'm not letting the shit beetle crawl back into my head."

"You don't have to," Divad says. "Because we're gonna crawl into his." He walks over to Joonam, looks down at him. "We want to fuse with you." He offers his hand.

Joonam sneers at him. "You're weak, you know that. You're useless. You're nothing." He pushes himself up, stands. He doesn't need anyone's help, especially not Divad's.

"All I have to be is myself," Divad says, calmly. "I am Divad. I belong to myself. I am love." He turns and holds out his hand to Dvd. "Together?"

"Fuck this," Dvd growls. "Fuck all of this." But he walks over to Divad and grabs his hand, holds it tight.

"I love you, Dvd," Divad tells him, and quirks a smile.

Dvd sighs. "I love you, too." He braces himself. "I am Dvd. I belong to myself. I am love, and I'm gonna kick some shit beetle ass."

So much disgusting love. Joonam thinks he might just throw up.

Dvd and Divad walk forward together, into Joonam's arms. And then--

"Finally," Joonam sighs. He closes his eyes, reaches out across his mind, and he is completely alone. A singular mind in a single body. At last.

And of course he still feels exactly like himself. He is Joonam, after all, and he belongs to himself. He smirks, amused, and then--

Opens his eyes. He sees the shimmering energy field through his sunglasses, and the courtroom beyond. It's time to break free. But first--

He knows exactly how to heal his body, and now-- He has the power. The wounds on his head itch as they knit back together, not collagen scars but true skin. The holes in his skull are next, and then the brain damage from the crown, new and old, turning deep scars into fresh brain tissue.

A crude, vicious thing, that crown, and David's so-called friends used it so eagerly. And speaking of his friends--

Joonam stands up and the chair vanishes. He turns. Clark stands, the guards stiffen. Melanie and the Karies watch warily, their wrists still cuffed.

"Have a nice nap?" Clark asks, dry as ever.

"Very refreshing," Joonam says, with a smile. "And now that I'm feeling completely myself--" He spreads his arms and feels his full strength rise. He can feel the fear in the room as his prison starts to break.

"The gas!" Clark shouts, but it's too late. As soon as the force field was weak enough, Joonam crumpled the nozzle. Clark sees this and turns to the guards. "Get them out of here! Now!" he orders, pointing to Melanie and the Karies. "Run!"

Two guards grab Melanie and Kerry and start to drag them away, but both prisoners struggle to stay. Good. Joonam wants them here for his ascension. And it won't matter how far they run anyway. They can't hide from a god.

The pressure builds around him and then-- The force field explodes, energy rushing out in all directions. Everyone else falls to the floor, stunned and helpless, and Joonam steps forward, ready to make all of them pay.

And then the door to the courtroom opens. Joonam stares as an impossible figure steps out from the shadows.

"Joonam," Amahl Farouk greets him, with a proud grin, with arms open wide. "My glorious sun!"

Chapter 193: Night: You are my masterpiece. (Joonam)

Notes:

Apologies for more delay. /o\ 2020 didn't want to finish without giving me one more medical crisis. Here's hoping 2021 is a lot kinder.

Chapter Text

"Amahl?" Joonam says, voice faint with shock. How is he-- How is this-- Amahl is inside him, part of him, how-- How is he here? "How?" A hallucination?

No. He distantly notes his confusion mirrored in the minds around him, in the minds watching them from far away. And their spike of fear-- They see him too.

And then-- Suddenly the air is filled with noise and bullets as the guards fire on Amahl. Joonam reaches for him but he feels so slow. And then--

One by one, the guards dissolve into black dust.

The noise stops. Silence.

'No.,' Clark thinks, horrified.

Amahl brushes dust off his jacket and walks forward. He reaches Joonam and then-- Cups his hand against Joonam's cheek. His hand feels warm and real and--

But if Amahl is here then--

"Who am I?" Joonam asks, lost.

"My son," Amahl soothes, proud. "My finest creation."

"Amahl?" Melanie calls. She's recovering from the blast. Joonam can feel her confusion of feelings, her anger and betrayal and-- Longing.

But that's not all he feels, hears. More soldiers, dozens of them, rushing down to kill Amahl and himself.

Amahl sighs, annoyed. "Tedious." He turns, hand raised to turn them all to dust.

"Wait," Joonam says. He just needs time, he needs-- He needs to think. No more interruptions.

And with that thought, the soldiers stop, everyone stops. For a moment, Joonam wonders if he stopped time, but-- No. Every single person in the building is simply frozen in place. Still alive and breathing and aware, just-- Stopped.

"Such power," Amahl breathes, admiring. "You are truly glorious, my son. My beautiful boy."

"You gave yourself to me," Joonam says, a tremor in his voice. He steps back from Amahl, hurt.

"As all fathers give themselves to their sons," Amahl says. He steps forward, closes the distance between them. He puts his hand over Joonam's heart, and Joonam fights the urge to cover it with his own. "I gave you a gift. Pieces of myself, mon essence. The medication you craved."

"The medication?" Joonam echoes, and remembers-- The shots. The feeling of-- Amahl's strength going inside him, filling up the empty spaces. Every day, twice a day, for months and months--

"You asked to know what it was," Amahl says, his voice soft, intimate. His hand slides up Joonam's chest, his neck, the touch light but possessive. "The medication was-- Memories. Feelings. Seeds of myself planted inside you. I made you a bountiful garden." He chuckles. "You have always loved gardens."

Joonam struggles to understand. "You copied your memories-- Into me?"

Amahl's hand slides up again, caresses Joonam's head, his cheek. "I prepared you. I made you ready. And when the time came-- I knew you would not let me go. I became part of you. We became one."

Joonam leans against Amahl's palm, needing. Then he forces himself to pull away. "Then-- The Amahl I fused with-- He's not you, he's--" His mind races. Amahl put-- Suppressed memories inside him. And the transfer, the amplification tank-- The memories were recovered and-- The sudden rush of new, overwhelming memories into his system made-- "He's an alter."

"You are my masterpiece," Amahl says, proudly. "Mon oeuvre d'art. Everything you are, I have chosen for you." He smirks, amused. "Tell me-- How does that make you feel?" He reaches up and takes off Joonam's sunglasses.

Joonam's startled, but he refuses to show it. He stares at Amahl, at Amahl's sunglasses, and then-- With a thought, they're gone.

Amahl gives a surprised laugh. "Very good." He folds Joonam's sunglasses and tucks them into his jacket pocket. He meets Joonam's gaze, and his brown eyes are warm and familiar. Amahl never wore sunglasses when they were together in the lab, in the dream year.

Joonam turns, steps away. He wraps his arms around himself. In the lab, he trusted Amahl to help him, to take away his pain, to make him something-- Better. He wanted that so much. He wanted--

"I wanted it to be you," he admits, and turns back to Amahl. "Can't you just--"

Amahl softens. He steps forward, closing the distance again. "You want me to leave this body? To be le ténia? Your parasite."

Joonam gives him a needing look.

Amahl sighs, a flash of hunger in his eyes. "For thirty years, you were mine. And then-- Unsere schmerzhafte Amputation. I was taken from you, and then-- You were taken from me. You remember now, how I felt."

"I remember," Joonam realizes.

"Tell me," Amahl says.

Joonam closes his eyes, thinks back. "It all happened so fast. I took Oliver, escaped and then--"

"Even after we were pulled apart, I was connected to you," Amahl says. "A limb yearning for its missing body. Your thoughts still loud in my head. And then--

"I disappeared," Joonam says. Amahl knew David was gone. He feels the shock of loss all over again, for the first time.

"You were taken," Amahl says. "But how? Where?" He shakes his head. "Nothing."

"Everything felt wrong," Joonam remembers. Amahl without David felt so wrong. "I had Oliver but-- He wasn't enough. Nothing was enough. I looked for my body, for the monk but-- Nothing."

"Nothing," Amahl agrees. "I was a refugee, in exile once again."

"It hurt," Joonam says, and feels how it hurt. The loss and pain and-- The unwanted grief. He didn't want to grieve. Grief was just electrons in the brain sending signals. "I wanted revenge."

"Yes," Amahl says, eagerly.

"I made plans," Joonam remembers. "All of them were going to pay. Melanie, Oliver, Ptonomy. Cary and Kerry. Amy and Lenny and-- Syd." He's hit by a wave of intense anger. He bares his teeth, furious. "Especially Syd."

"La femme," Amahl sighs. "She's hiding somewhere, but she will return."

"She'll try to take me away from you again," Joonam says, upset.

"She'll try," Amahl says, with menace. "But I am part of you now, forever. Rewh shema met'eleq bh men aset. Your soul is mine. She cannot pull us apart."

"She can't," Joonam agrees, relieved.

"No one can," Amahl says. He reaches up, touches Joonam's cheek. Joonam leans against his palm again. "Tell me how I felt that night, when you came back to me."

"I was following the monk," Joonam recalls. "I wasn't going to let him get away this time. But then-- I felt it. Me. And the monk-- He didn't matter anymore, nothing else mattered." He smiles, feeling disbelief, joy, hunger at David's return. And anger that David had been denied him for so, so long.

He remembers it from David's perspective, too. From Dvd's, from Divad's. He has compound memories of his entire life. Even if Amahl didn't share everything with him-- What he does have is so much.

"A joyful moment," Amahl says, smiling too. "The two of us together, mind to mind."

"I told you I had to help you," Joonam remembers, David's fragmented memories of that night finally restored. "But you-- I was-- I didn't care about the future. I was angry, relieved, I--"

"We sparred," Amahl says. "A wrestling match, a dance. Your power was-- Intoxicating." He gives a hum of delight. "But then-- Our friend the monk. So contagious."

"The chattering virus," Joonam says. "He infected me, infected everyone." His memories as David and Dvd and Divad end there, an empty blankness until they woke up in Division 3. But his memories as Amahl continue. "I saw myself, frozen. Trapped in my own mind. So I--" Joonam falters.

"Tell me," Amahl urges. His warm eyes are lit with excitement.

"You went back inside me," Joonam realizes, stunned. "We were whole."

"How did it feel?" Amahl presses.

"So good," Joonam admits, overcome with satisfaction. It felt so completely right. He was whole again, the amputation reversed. And god, god-- "I wanted to stay." His eyes fill with sudden tears and he blinks them away. "Why didn't you stay?"

"You know why."

Joonam realizes he does. "My-- David's body-- It was so strong. I could already feel it-- Changing me, twisting me. Like before. When I was in Oliver-- I was able to-- Find myself again. To be Amahl Farouk and not-- The monster." He meets Amahl's eyes, and he feels-- Understanding. Empathy. "David made you into the monster."

"He did," Amahl admits. "That is why I had to leave. Inside you, I could not be myself."

"I'm so sorry," Joonam says, overcome with shame. "It was all my fault. Everything."

Amahl hushes him. "Bâbâ is here." And he pulls Joonam into his arms and holds him.

Joonam gives a soft sound and holds Amahl back. He sighs, feeling the warmth of their bodies together, breathing in their shared air. Amahl smells like-- Coffee. Café serré, sharp and rich and bitter.

"But all was not lost," Amahl says, letting him go. He rests his hand against the side of Joonam's head, pets his hair briefly. "You showed me the answer."

Joonam looks at him, confused, and then-- "The maze. The monk's virus, the mental maze--"

"Your core desire," Amahl says. "Do you see it? What I found in your heart? Your deepest wish."

Joonam closes his eyes, pushes into the memory. The monk's virus trapped its victims in-- Fantasies. Ptonomy dreamed of forgetting everything but a single peaceful moment. Melanie dreamed of-- Power and control. And Syd was-- A part of the world without needing to touch it.

What was David's core desire? His fantasy, his relief from-- A world full of terror and confusion and pain and betrayal--

Joonam looks into that memory and finds-- Himself?

"Me?" Joonam asks, confused.

"A cocktail of David and the monster," Amahl says. "Focused and stable and fully in control of himself and everything around him. What we had together for such a brief moment. That was what you wanted most." His hand slides down to rest over Joonam's heart. "You needed me to be your heart."

"I did," Joonam realizes. He sees it now, how it all makes sense. "But when I woke up-- I couldn't remember."

"I remembered," Amahl says. "I couldn't put my soul inside you without hurting us both. But my ideas, my guidance, meine Weltanschauung-- You were eager to receive them."

Joonam looks back at his visits to Amahl with a new understanding. David couldn't understand why Farouk was toying with him, when all David wanted to do was help Farouk find his body so Farouk would leave him alone. But Amahl had bigger plans. He put his ideas into David's head, and David accepted them.

"I helped you become," Amahl continues. "But there were-- Complications."

"Syd," Joonam says, angry again. "Future Syd."

"David's friends were so eager to destroy him," Amahl says. "I tried to free you from them. I expected you to escape their judgement, to become a glorious sunrise. But instead you were reduced. Tied to a bed and drugged, your powers stolen from you."

"You could have saved me," Joonam says, annoyed. "You should have taken me away from here and destroyed the crown."

"And if I had?" Amahl asks. "You were determined to harm yourself, as you had before. I could not bear to lose you again. So I watched. I learned. I saw that to heal you-- I had to give back what I took."

"My missing memories?"

"And more," Amahl says. "I had refused to accept the other parts of you, but you needed them. You needed as much of me as I could give you. A year was stolen from us, so I made a new year. I gave you a name. The rest you did yourself. And now you are whole. You are Joonam Farouk."

Joonam takes all this in. It's a lot, all of this is a lot. All his missing puzzle pieces are back, and Amahl's memories are-- The lid from the puzzle box, showing him how it all fits together.

"This is what I wanted," Joonam says, accepting. "No more David or system or monster. Just-- Joonam and Amahl."

"Joonam and Amahl," Amahl echoes, warmly. "And how does that make you feel?"

Joonam meets Amahl's eyes and smiles, grins. "Happy." He's truly happy.

Amahl grins back. "I am happy, too. My beautiful boy."

"I'm Joonam Farouk," Joonam says, and it feels so right.

"A beautiful name," Amahl praises. "It means you are mine. Your life and soul are mine. Joon-am, joon del-am." Joonam feels the brush of Amahl's mind against his own, and then a strong mental embrace, and it feels-- Good. Right. Yes. Every part of him is Amahl's, he belongs to Amahl, he--

No. No he-- He belongs to himself.

Joonam falters, confused, and pushes the thought away. Ridiculous. He belongs to Amahl.

"Dad," he murmurs, and he feels the pleasure in Amahl's mind, the satisfaction that word gives him.

"My baby," Amahl murmurs, happily. "My son." Amahl lets him go, steps back and looks at him with unguarded joy. "I made you in my image. And now-- We will show our love to the world. We will be-- The model of their salvation. And you will be my key."

"Yeah," Joonam says, eager to agree, but then-- "If I have your memories-- Why don't I know what that means?"

Amahl laughs. "Where would be the fun in that?" He looks around the room, at the frozen people, the black dust. "For centuries, I have heard the world's thoughts, felt its pain, as you do. They pray for god's mercy, for his infinite power to remove their pain. But it is we who feel their suffering. It is we who hear their prayers."

"We're their gods," Joonam realizes.

Amahl smiles wide. "Les dieux. Bigger than Jesus."

"So we have to-- Remove their pain," Joonam says. "Cure their madness. Make them-- Whole."

"Précisément," Amahl praises. "We must reveal the true face of the world, of the entire universe. For the entire universe is a manifestation of a single mind. Mine."

"Just like me," Joonam says, understanding. Amahl put his mind into David and made him whole. And now-- "We're really going to help everyone?"

"You are ready to be the hero?" Amahl says, amused, fond.

"I am," Joonam says, determined. "Just tell me what to do."

"I will," Amahl promises. "But first-- We have some unfinished business." He turns and gestures at Clark, Melanie, and the Karies. "Unfreeze them."

With a thought, it's done. The four of them stagger and right themselves. They stare at Amahl and Joonam with horror and devastation.

"David," Cary says, his voice hollow with shock. "You have to fight this. Please!"

"David is gone," Amahl tells them, smugly.

"No," Cary says. "David, I know you're in there. This isn't what you want."

Joonam walks up to him. "You don't know what I want. You don't know anything about me. You don't even know yourself!" He gives Cary a disdainful look. "Amahl fixed you, just like he fixed me. You should be grateful."

"Even if I was supposed to be outside, I'm never gonna be grateful to the shit beetle," Kerry says, glaring. "David's gonna wake up and stop you!"

"So now what?" Clark sneers at Amahl. "You're gonna brainwash the world?"

"An ant cannot comprehend the mind of god," Amahl says. "But don't worry. I have other plans for you. And your family."

'Don't you dare touch them,' Clark thinks. 'Oh god. I should have stopped the surgery, I should have--' He turns to Joonam. "I should have killed you."

"Yeah," Joonam says and turns to Melanie. "Any last words?"

"I know how you're feeling, Joonam," Melanie says, with surprising calm. "I know this feels right. But you're going to start changing your mind. And when you do, we'll be here to help you. All of us."

Joonam narrows his eyes at her. "You're so desperate to matter. But the truth is you don't. You've always been nothing but a convenient tool."

"You're the one being used," Melanie says. "He's going to keep hurting you and everyone else until you say no. You don't belong to him and deep down--"

"Enough," Amahl says, annoyed.

"Deep down you still know that," Melanie continues. She turns to Amahl. "David's still in there, and every time you hurt us, it's going to push him away from you."

"Ah, my dear," Amahl says, smirking. "I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to do anything." And then he turns to Joonam. "It's time we gathered the rest of our audience. Come."

Amahl heads for the door, and Joonam follows. With a thought, Joonam makes Melanie and Clark and the Karies fall in step, and they leave the courtroom behind them.

Chapter 194: Night: We're your gods now. (Joonam)

Chapter Text

The hallway is full of soldiers, dozens of them, all frozen in place with their guns in hand. Joonam gestures and they all step aside, lining the walls like an honor guard. Amahl smirks, pleased.

"This is gonna be fun," Joonam says, smirking back.

"Always," Amahl says, and leads the way through the soldiers.

Joonam meets the soldiers' eyes as he passes them, hears their furious, terrified thoughts. Some of them are silently praying for god to save them. "We're your gods now," he tells them. They'll feel better once Amahl helps them, he's sure of that.

Amahl stops at a door, opens it. He gestures for Joonam to walk in first.

It's a prison cell. No, it's-- David's prison cell.

Joonam walks into the room and stands beside the bed. There's no sign that he was ever here in this room, that he was trapped here, powerless and afraid with spikes in his brain. But he remembers.

With a thought, he flings the bed across the room. It crashes against the wall and falls, wrecked. But it's not enough. He clenches his fist and the bed crunches up into a mangled ball of steel and foam.

"Good," Amahl praises. "Very physical." He puts his hand on Joonam's back. "Your anger. Your hurt. Everything they did to you. Feel it."

"I feel it," Joonam says, tense. The shame and pain and humiliation--

"They put you here," Amahl continues. "They called themselves your friends. They claimed to love you, to want to help you. Instead they condemned you. All because they feared your power."

Joonam looks at the doorway, at Clark standing there, frozen, waiting. He remembers Clark pushing the needle into his arm, drugging him.

"They're still afraid," Joonam admits.

"They fear what they cannot control," Amahl soothes. "That is why we must help them. Remove their fear. Teach them to love their gods." He pauses, his hand warm against Joonam's back. "But first, we must have justice."

"Justice?" Joonam asks.

Amahl chuckles. "The truest form of justice is revenge. Divine retribution." He drops his hand, walks out the door.

Joonam looks around at the room, at his prison cell. He remembers a lifetime of prison cells, a lifetime of condemnation and fear. A lifetime of being helpless.

He's not helpless anymore.

"Justice," he echoes, wanting. "Yeah." And he follows Amahl out.

"We must gather those who hurt you," Amahl says. "Some are out of reach, for now. But others-- Take us to the infirmary."

With a thought, the world shifts around them, and they're in the hallway outside the infirmary. There are more frozen soldiers here, and a Vermillion lying empty on the floor. Joonam looks at it curiously, but follows Amahl inside.

In the infirmary are a medic, a soldier, and Doctor Orwell, all still as statues.

"Her," Amahl says, pointing at Doctor Orwell.

Joonam gestures and Doctor Orwell springs to life. Her eyes go wide with fear, but she walks calmly over to join Clark, Melanie, and the Karies.

"David, please," Cary protests. "She did nothing to hurt you."

"My name is Joonam," Joonam says, annoyed.

"That's a stupid name," Kerry mutters.

Joonam narrows his eyes at Kerry, but then-- He remembers who else is in the infirmary. Or rather: what else. He turns and walks over to Cary's brain-damaged physical projection, still lying empty in the infirmary bed, kept alive by machines.

"David," Cary starts, alarmed. "I mean-- Joonam."

"Come here," Joonam says, and makes the Karies walk over. "This body. Why do you keep holding on to it?"

"It's-- It's my body," Cary protests.

"No," Joonam says, looking at it. "It's not real. It's just-- The idea of a body." He turns to the Karies. "You're in your real body now."

"We've always had two bodies," Kerry says.

"That's a lie," Joonam says, knows it. "What was it you said? Your old body was just-- Something you wore for a while."

Kerry stares at him, surprised. "I only told that to Cary."

"Amahl was listening," Joonam says, with a smirk. "That's how this place works. Everyone is always listening." He glances up at the cameras and gives a little wave, then turns back to the Karies. "Amahl gave you a gift. The gene gun. But is that what you really want, to be-- Pulled apart, day after day?" He shakes his head. "You need to be whole."

"When we fix Cary's brain and he goes back inside me, then we'll be whole," Kerry says, glaring at him.

"Do you really think that will work?" Joonam challenges. "You tried to fit that way and all it did was hurt you. This body?" He gestures at Cary's body. "It doesn't belong. It's not part of who you are now. It's holding you back."

"Th--that's not your decision to make," Cary stammers, and Joonam can feel his fear.

"You can't be separate," Joonam tells them. "That's madness. It's crazy."

"It's how we work!" Kerry says. "We're a system, like you!"

"Not anymore," Joonam says. He reaches out and touches Kerry's cheek, and she flinches away. "I can heal you. I can make you a single mind in a single body. Just like me. You're already so close."

"David-- Joonam-- Please," Cary begs.

"You'll see," Joonam tells him, annoyed that Cary called him David again. "Once it's gone, you'll see." And he reaches out his hand--

And Cary's body dissolves into black dust.

"No!" Cary sobs, Kerry howls. They strain against Joonam's control, desperate to fight back, but all they can do is cry and scream.

Joonam flinches at the strength of their pain. He looks at the black dust on the bed and feels-- Regret? Grief?

No. No. This was the right thing to do. They needed it. He knows what's best for them. He's helping them the same way Amahl helped him.

"Such poetry," Amahl praises. He's happy, and that helps Joonam push away his unwanted feelings. "Glorious!"

"I hate you!" Kerry sobs, glaring furiously.

'It's gone,' Cary thinks, hollowly. 'It's really gone.'

Joonam looks over and sees Melanie and Clark and Doctor Orwell are-- Shocked and horrified?

"I'm making them better," he tells them, annoyed. "Why can't you see that?" But they're upset, angry, grieving. It shouldn't bother him but it does.

"We will cure their madness," Amahl soothes. "We will cure the whole world, make the whole world whole. Then they will understand."

"Yeah," Joonam agrees, trying to muster up his confidence again. "We will." He looks at the crying Karies, then away. "What next?"

"The Admiral," Amahl declares. "And those he shelters. Take us to his pedestal."

Joonam is glad to leave. The world shifts around them again, and now all of them are standing in the Admiral's chamber. Two frozen soldiers stand guard at the entrance. The Admiral is sitting on his pedestal, his basket on his head. Behind him, two Vermillion lie empty on the floor.

"A puppet with its strings cut," Amahl says. "Show me his face," he tells Joonam.

With a thought, the basket vanishes. The Admiral stares back at them.

"For decades you were their faithful lapdog," Amahl says to the Admiral. "You gave yourself to them, body and mind. But the moment you questioned your masters--" He shakes his head. "Do you think they'll kill you, as you helped them kill so many? Or will they keep you alive, imprisoned in what was once your body, for the sake of their precious secrets?"

The Admiral says nothing. His mind is still unreadable, protected by the mainframe, but-- Then he turns to Joonam with sad eyes, pitying, regretful. And Joonam realizes-- The Admiral isn't sad for himself. He's sad for Joonam.

No. He's sad for David.

"This is what they wanted to turn you into," Amahl continues, turning to Joonan, "A mindless puppet. That is what David's 'friends' chose for him."

"They're still inside him, right?" Joonam asks.

"Prisoners inside the prisoner," Amahl says, smirking. "Free them."

Joonam steps up to the Admiral and looks him right in the eyes. Then he reaches his hand up and into the Admiral's chest. There's no blood, no wound, but the Admiral makes a choked sound as Joonam reaches into his soul. He thinks, amused, of hiding Cary and Kerry inside of David, and Amy inside of Lenny. He smiles, pushing back against another twinge of unwanted emotion. It was right, what he did, what Amahl did. It was poetry.

He finds his targets and pulls them out by three silver cords, their links to the Admiral's body. Amy, Lenny, Ptonomy. They stumble, disoriented by their sudden removal from the mainframe.

"Ptonomy," Melanie calls, soft, afraid. The Karies are too deep in grief to react, and Clark and Doctor Orwell are trying not to think about anything at all. Division 3 training, no doubt.

"Leave them attached," Amahl says. "We don't want them to float away."

Joonam releases the cords. He looks at Lenny and Amy and Ptonomy curiously. Do they know who he is now? Have they been watching him through the security cameras, or did the Divisions cut the Admiral off from that, too?

As long as they're anchored to the Admiral's body, he can't hear their thoughts. But seeing their expressions-- They know.

Good. Lying to them was fun, but the truth will hurt them so much more.

"You thought you were so smart," Joonam says to them. "All your clever little plans, all those simulations you ran, trying to guess the future. And you failed." He laughs. "You did exactly what Amahl wanted, what I wanted. And now here I am, and David and Dvd and Divad? They're gone forever. And it's all your fault."

He savors Lenny's furious glare, Amy's grief and quiet tears. But to his annoyance, Ptonomy is calm.

"You don't feel bad?" Joonam mocks. "You always hated David. You never wanted to save him. All that therapy was just an excuse to torture him, to make him suffer."

He turns to Lenny, points at Ptonomy. "He murdered you and you just rolled over. You couldn't wait to make David pay for everything he did to you." He waits for Lenny to react, but she keeps the same steady glare.

Annoyed again, he turns on Amy. "And you? All you ever wanted was to throw David away. And now he's finally gone. You should be so happy." Amy only wipes at her eyes, stares back at him, silently determined.

Joonam's mouth twists in a frown. They're not reacting like they're supposed to. They're not shouting, not denying, they're not saying anything.

"Joonam," Ptonomy says, in his familiar, therapist tone. "Are you happy that David is gone?"

"Of course I'm--" Joonam starts, and then he realizes. "Oh no. You're not gonna play your mind games with me." No one's ever crawling into his head again.

"I'm not playing games," Ptonomy says. "I just want to help you, the way I helped the rest of your system."

"I don't have a system," Joonam says, and now he really is upset.

"Of course you do," Ptonomy soothes. "They're inside you, all of them. David, Dvd, Divad, every fragment. If you were only the Amahl parts, you wouldn't be Joonam."

"That's--" Joonam starts, flustered. He turns to Amahl for help, but Amahl's just watching, eyes crinkled with amusement.

"I want to get to know the person you are now," Ptonomy continues. "All the parts of your system have wish lists, things they want for themselves. What do you want for yourself, Joonam? After a big fusion like that, you must have a lot to figure out."

"That's where you're wrong," Joonam says, confident again. "I know exactly who I am. I'm Joonam Farouk, Amahl's son."

"That's your name, sure," Ptonomy says, accepting. "But what do you want? All the parts of your system, Dvd and Divad and David-- They're all really different. But there's one thing they all want, and I think you want it too."

"You don't know anything about me," Joonam sneers.

"And how well do you know yourself?" Ptonomy challenges. "What's your foundation, Joonam? What are your dreams, your fears?"

"Amahl is my foundation," Joonam says, proudly. "He's the only thing I care about. And he loves me."

"You want to make him happy," Ptonomy says, understanding.

"I do make him happy," Joonam says.

"And if you make him angry?" Ptonomy asks. "If you make choices he doesn't want you to make?"

"That won't happen," Joonam says, certain.

"Because he copied parts of himself into you?" Ptonomy asks. "That's not the real thing. You're a Farouk, but what if that's not enough?"

Joonam falters, and looks again to Amahl. Amahl's less amused now, but he still doesn't intervene. "Of course it's enough," Joonam says.

"The one thing all the parts of your system want is to be safe," Ptonony says, gently. "I think even the Amahl identity wants to be safe. Do you feel safe, Joonam? If you say no to Amahl, if he gets angry--"

"That won't happen," Joonam says. "He made me. I'm what he wants."

"You are," Amahl says, and gestures for Joonam to come to him. Joonam does, and Amahl touches his cheek, cups it. He looks at Joonam admiringly. "My finest creation. Tell them who you belong to."

"You," Joonam says, softly. Then, louder. "I belong to you. I'm safe with you."

"Such sweet words," Amahl sighs, content.

"You belong to yourself," Ptonomy says.

"We are one, Joonam and I," Amahl counters. He releases Joonam and steps closer to Ptonomy. "His pain was my absence. I made him whole and safe, just as I promised I would. And I made another promise to you. One it is finally time to fulfill." He turns back to Joonam. "His family are in the building. Bring them here."

Ptonomy's calm facade finally cracks, and Joonam sees the fear in his eyes. "This has nothing to do with them," Ptonomy says.

"You thought their ignorance would protect them from me," Amahl says. "You thought that if you hid your thoughts, you could fool me." He tuts, shakes his head, and then-- Turns to Clark. "Do you think I am un petit bébé, convinced that something does not exist because it's not right in front of me?"

Clark's startled by the sudden attention but tries to hide it. He stares steadily back at Amahl, keeps his thoughts quiet. But Joonam can feel his fear.

Amahl looks around the room, at Melanie, Doctor Orwell, the Karies. At Amy and Lenny and the Admiral. Then he turns back to Joonam. "Bring them to me. All of them."

Joonam closes his eyes and searches for Clark's family, Ptonomy's family. As David, he only met Daniel. He remembers observing Ptonomy's family as Amahl, but they were insignificant, valuable only as weapons. He finds them all: the husband and son; the father, the sister, the lover-- And with a thought, they're all standing a few feet away, bewildered and afraid.

Daniel recovers first, pulling his son close. "Clark," he calls and starts towards him.

"What the hell?" Ptonomy's sister says. She's the next to recover; she has a military mind like Clark, like Division 3's soldiers. She's already thinking about how to get her father and Ptonomy's lover to safety.

"Freeze them," Amahl says.

Joonam obeys. And then like the others, they are immobile but aware.

Anger and fear and grief ripple through the room. Amahl gives a sigh of delight, savoring all of it. Joonam tries to enjoy it too, he should enjoy it just as much as Amahl does, but--

Amahl strolls around the two families, studying them. He smiles at Ptonomy, at Clark, and both of them glare back at him.

"Family," Amahl says aloud, thoughtful. "Sans famille, l'homme, seul au monde, tremble dans le froid." He looks to Joonam, expectant.

It takes a moment for Joonam to realize that Amahl wants him to translate. "Uh-- Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles in the cold. That's-- André Maurois, from-- An Art of Living." Joonam remembers reading the book not long before-- He met Charles.

Charles Xavier. He is-- Was-- David's father. Joonam knows that now, but-- He can't remember Charles' face. He knows he met him as Amahl, but-- Amahl didn't share that memory with Joonam.

It shouldn't bother him, Amahl gave Joonam as much of himself as he could give, but--

"Very good," Amahl praises. He steps close to Joonam, cups his cheek, admires him. "For too long I was alone. But then I found you. And we were happy, yes?"

"Yes," Joonam answers, firmly. He remembers being happy, as Amahl. There was pain, yes, but-- So much pleasure. So much wonderful suffering.

But again, even though he should savor the pain like Amahl-- It feels wrong. Not because Joonam remembers being David and Dvd and Divad and being hurt-- They deserved to be hurt, Amahl hurt them because they needed it-- But--

"And then we were torn apart," Amahl continues. "These men. Diese Insekten. They took you from me. They stole your powers, tried to poison your mind. Wir müssen uns rächen. We must make them feel the pain we felt. The father taken from the son, the son from the father."

"Yes," Joonam says, and turns to face the terrified families. "Fathers and sons," he murmurs and makes his choices. He crooks his finger, and two of them walk to him: Ptonomy's father and Clark's son.

Joonam looks at them and they stare back at him. They have no idea what's going on. The father's thoughts are scattered, not just from fear but-- Physical failure. Old battle scars. He remembers Ptonomy telling him about his father being caught in an explosion in the war, being half-deaf, forgetful. And the boy--

Buster. His name is Buster, Joonam can hear Clark and Daniel thinking his name over and over, silently praying--

"Joonam," Amy says, her voice trembling. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to hurt anyone."

"You're not my sister," Joonam snaps at her. She was never his sister, she was just-- One of his jailers. An obstacle. An annoyance.

Amy flinches back, hurt, but then rallies again. "I love you, Joonam. Whatever happens, I know-- This isn't your fault. It's not your choice. And I know you're trying to fight this. Because you don't want to do this. You don't want to hurt--"

"Shut up," Joonam says, angry. "You don't know anything. You never knew anything about me."

Tears streak down Amy's cheeks, but she doesn't back down. "You're right. I missed so much. But I know the truth now. I know-- David and Dvd and Divad and-- I know who the real monster is. And it's not you."

"There is no monster," Joonam tells her. "There was never a monster."

"You're right," Lenny says. "Amahl Farouk's not a monster or a god. He's just a fucked up asshole." She stares at Amahl. "That's right, I know exactly what you are, you piece of shit."

"You were always an entertaining pet," Amahl says, fondly.

"I never belonged to you," Lenny says, certain. She turns back to Joonam, stares him in the eyes. "I know what it's like to be his mask. He makes you feel things you don't wanna feel. It's hard to tell the difference between his thoughts and your thoughts. He makes you smile but inside you're screaming."

"Amahl saved me," Joonam tells her.

"Saved you from what?" Lenny challenges. "Making your own choices? You're a god, right? So why you gotta be his puppet?"

"A son obeys his father," Amahl says, smoothly.

"What, like you obeyed your daddy?" Lenny mocks. "You put your thoughts in my head for a whole year, shithead. I know what you did to your family. "

"Divine retribution," Amahl says, with fond remembrance.

"Yeah, sure," Lenny mocks. "Joonam, you know how many kids he made, raping his way around the world for centuries? You know what he did to those kids?"

Joonam doesn't remember any of the things Lenny is talking about. "What did you do?" he asks, feeling oddly dizzy.

"I thought to pass on my gift," Amahl admits. "But they were nothing."

"They were human," Amy says. "Not mutants."

"You must have been so disappointed," Melanie says, shaking her head.

"Not at all," Amahl says. "They were useful."

"You stole people's souls and trapped them inside your own kids," Lenny says, disgusted. "And when you got kicked out of your body, that's what you did to David."

"Oh no," Amahl corrects, and turns to Joonam again, puts his hand over Joonam's heart. "When I found you-- You refused to let me go. You needed me."

Joonam believed that before, accepted it, but-- He takes a step back.

Anger sparks in Amahl's eyes. Joonam feels sick.

"Amahl said David turned him into the monster," Ptonomy says, determined again. "But David wasn't even alive when Amahl tortured and killed his own family, his own children. Nothing Amahl did was David's fault. How could it be?"

"I don't--" Joonam starts, confused. Amahl told him so many stories about his life, his travels, but-- He didn't share any of those memories with Joonam.

But Joonam does remember-- Something about a purple crayon. A dragon in a cage, a prison with no doors.

"I-- Trapped you," Joonam realizes. "You invaded me, hurt me and-- I trapped you inside me. But I was so young, I-- I didn't know how to let you out."

"You fought back," Lenny says. "You protected yourself."

"No, I--" Joonam falters again. "It was-- It was David's fault."

"What, 'divine retribution'?" Melanie asks. "How is it 'divine retribution' to invade a baby?"

"It just is!" Joonam shouts, his whole body tensed. "It was my fault! I wanted it, I deserved it, I needed it!"

"What part of Joonam thinks that?" Ptonomy asks. "The David part-- Or Amahl?"

Joonam stares at him, confused.

"It was Amahl's fault," Ptonomy says, calmly. "Amahl wanted it. He thought he deserved it, that he needed it. First revenge, and then-- The power inside you. That's what he cares about, Joonam. That's all he wants. Everything else-- It's just lies."

"No!" Joonam says, shaking his head. "I remember."

"How can you trust his memories?" Ptonomy asks. "He gave you a lifetime of fake memories before."

"That wasn't me!" Joonam says.

"It was part of you," Ptonomy says. "And even if he gave you real memories-- What did he leave out?"

"I don't need the other memories," Joonam insists, even as he rubs at his head, even as he thinks about all the gaps he's already found. Tiny black holes, lacunas. Gaps in-- In the shattered rocket lamp. "I just need-- I just need to be whole!"

"You are whole, my dear," Amahl soothes. He pulls Joonam close and Joonam clings to him, hurt and needing. "I made you whole. But these ants who claim to be your friends, your family-- They will continue to hurt you, to put back the pain I took away."

"No," Joonam groans, his face against Amahl's shoulder.

"You must make the pain stop," Amahl says.

"How?" Joonam asks.

"There is only one way," Amahl says, confident. "Revenge. Divine retribution."

Amahl lets Joonam go and walks over to Buster and Ptonomy's father. Buster's face is wet with tears, his eyes red. He's utterly terrified. Clark and Daniel are feet away from him, and even though they're stuck in place, they're obviously desperate to save their son.

Joonam feels-- Another twinge of emotion, looking at them. Feeling the intensity of their love and their overpowering need to protect each other, their terrible grief at even the thought of seeing their family harmed. Even Clark, who keeps everything so locked down all the time-- He cares so much.

"The pain you feel," Amahl tells Joonam. "That is the pain of our separation. Every time they try to pull us apart, you feel that pain. Remember how you screamed as they tried to destroy me. Remember my suffering as I walked the world without you."

"I remember," Joonam says, and he does. So much pain-- "Should we-- Kill them?" he asks, uncertain.

"Where would be the fun in that?" Amahl asks, his mood lightening. "In death there is release. Without a body, the soul will simply float away, return to the astral plane and then--" He gestures, indicating-- Dissolution. "It will dance through a cosmic field of multidimensions with no outer limits to speak of."

"So they have to-- Stay alive," Joonam says.

"Not at all," Amahl says. "We will kill their bodies and take their souls. Then-- We will torture them at our leisure."

Joonam hesitates.

"Is there a problem?" Amahl asks, with an edge of warning.

"No," Joonam defends. "It's just--" He glances around the room. Everyone is staring at him. "If we're gods, then-- Can't we just-- Leave?" When Amahl stares at him too, Joonam continues. "All these people, they're not-- They're David's. Not mine. I don't care about them, I-- I care about you. I want to be with you, to be happy with you."

Amahl stares at him.

Joonam shrinks back, feeling like he did something very wrong, feeling--

"Perhaps you are right," Amahl says, suddenly smiling.

Joonam relaxes again, deeply relieved. "I am?"

"Yes," Amahl says. "I've lived in the past for too long. And we have so much to do to heal the world's pain."

"We really do," Joonam says. It sounds like a lot of work, healing everyone's pain. But he wants to help them, he wants to make them better. Like-- Cary and Kerry.

Except they're not acting like they're better. They've been quietly grieving, miserable, ever since Joonam helped them. It doesn't make any sense, they're almost whole now, they should be happy.

"A new plan," Amahl says, confidently. "You will kill everyone but the boy, take their souls-- And imprison them in the boy."

Joonam stares at Amahl, shocked. "Is that-- Is that a joke?" he asks. A cruel joke, but maybe-- Payback for Lenny's lies, except-- Amahl said they were true.

"Don't you want to be safe?" Amahl challenges. "For the pain to stop?"

"Yes, but-- I'm safe with you," Joonam says.

"We are les dieux," Amahl says, an edge of anger in his voice. He gestures at the security cameras. "The ants who rule the world are our audience. They fear our power, our strength. Do you think they will let us live in peace? They will try to destroy us, as their kind always has." He gestures at Clark. "And here is the man who leads the organization that has hunted you since your birth. Who laments every day that he did not slaughter you. You must punish him."

"Okay, but--" Joonam starts, rubbing his head again. Despite everything Amahl gave him, all the memories and feelings-- He just doesn't understand. "If we're going to fix the world's pain, make everyone better-- Can't we just-- Make him better, too? All of them?"

"No," Amahl says, firmly. "They will suffer. And you will be the agent of their suffering."

"No," Joonam says, firmly, surprising himself. "I mean-- I--"

"You belong to me," Amahl says, and there's more than a spark of anger in his eyes.

"I belong to you," Joonam agrees. "Of course I do, but-- I don't want to-- Torture people, kill them, I-- I want to help them. I want them to be whole, like-- Like you made me whole." Frustrated, he turns to the Karies, steps towards them. "Why are you still crying? I helped you!"

"You killed Cary's body!" Kerry sobs, furious.

"He wasn't even using it," Joonam defends. "It was broken."

"We were gonna heal it!" Kerry says.

"But it didn't fit anymore," Joonam says, he could see how it didn't fit. "Trying to go back to that-- It would just hurt you."

"You know what hurt us?" Kerry says. "You killing Cary's body!"

"You're wrong!" Joonam says, upset. More upset than makes any sense to him. It shouldn't matter what Kerry thinks, Kerry doesn't matter.

"Even if there was something wrong with my body," Cary says, their voice suddenly low and calm and even more devastated. "It wasn't your decision to make, Joonam. That was always-- Farouk's arrogance. He's so certain he knows what's best for everyone. But all he really wants is our pain." He stares right into Joonam's eyes. "Please, Joonam. You can stop this. If you want to help us, please stop this."

"Cary," Joonam says, softly.

Cary looks back at him, and he's everything Joonam doesn't want to be: broken and vulnerable and-- Joonam realizes that it's his fault. He thought he was helping but-- He was wrong. And he wants to fix it, but--

But Amahl--

He turns back to Amahl, hoping for Amahl to somehow help him, to be the father that-- Joonam wants him to be.

"See how they hurt you," Amahl says, almost-- Happily. As if everything happening is perfectly reasonable. "They turn their weakness against you. You showed your strength to them, and all they can do is fear you. Just like before, when they judged you. Threatened your life, condemned you to a life in l'asile, like a crazy person. But it is they who are mad."

"They're not mad," Joonam says, and it feels like-- There's a black hole burning inside him, small but growing, trying to pull him in. "They're just-- Hurt. I hurt them."

"And they sought your execution," Amahl replies. He gestures at the room. "All these people. They imprisoned you, stripped away your powers. Tortured you. Lied to you. Abandoned you. Feel the pain they gave you. Hold it in your heart."

Joonam looks at everyone, and he feels the ways they've hurt him, but-- "They hurt me," he admits. "But it's not--" He looks at Amy and remembers Clockworks, remembers her fear of him, remembers-- Forgiving her and holding her and--

He looks at the Karies and remembers Cary condemning him. And he remembers Cary's kindness in the prison cell, his understanding. And Kerry's protectiveness, and her kindness, and--

There are tears in his eyes. Why is he crying?

"Joonam," Melanie says, gently. "It's okay. It's okay to change your mind. We're all here for you."

"They always hated David," Amahl says, echoing Joonam's own words. "They never wanted to save him. All that therapy was just an excuse to torture him, to make him suffer. And now they want you to be David again. They crave your suffering."

Those words felt true when Joonam said them before, but-- Now he just feels confused. "Maybe, but--"

"David wasn't suffering when you stayed away from him," Lenny says to Amahl. "He was actually fucking happy. The only person who craves David's suffering is you."

"No, that's--" Joonam starts, but-- He has all of his memories now, every part of his system, and-- He remembers being Dvd and Divad and David and-- All of them being happy. Sharing their body together, eating pizza and cherries. Feeling love for Amy and Lenny and Syd and Kerry and Cary together. Helping Melanie together. He remembers--

"You are Joonam Farouk," Amahl says, and it feels like a command. "That means you are mine. Your life and soul are mine." Joonam feels the press of Amahl's mind against him, around him, holding and then punishing. "Joon-am, joon del-am. Every part of you belongs to me."

Joonam wants to believe that. He believed it before and it felt so good. He felt so safe with Amahl.

But he doesn't feel safe anymore.

"No," he says, and it feels shocking to say it, awful and freeing. He pushes back against the press of Amahl's mind, pushes it away. "Even if you're my father-- I belong to myself."

Amahl's expression darkens. The fury in his eyes makes Joonam's stomach twist with fear. And then it's all hidden behind a calm facade, and somehow that's even worse.

"Joonam," Ptonomy says, hopeful. "Let everyone go, please. Just let them go."

Joonam looks around the room, at the families he brought here and-- He looks at Clark's son. Buster. Joonam can feel how afraid he is, how he's trying to be brave, but-- All he wants is to be with his dads. All he wants is to be safe.

If Joonam lets them go, Amahl will be angry. He'll hurt them. All that black dust that used to be people-- He doesn't want that to happen to Buster or Daniel or-- Or even Clark.

But Amahl's already angry. And what he wants Joonam to do to them-- It's monstrous. It's--

With a thought, he sends them away from here, far away. Buster and Daniel and Ptonomy's family. Maybe nowhere is far enough to stop Amahl, but--

"No!" Clark cries, horrified.

"They're okay," Joonam tells him. "They're safe."

"Thank you, Joonam," Ptonomy says, slumping with relief.

Amahl is not relieved.

"They never hurt me," Joonam says to Amahl, trying to make him understand.

"Another beautiful sunrise destroyed," Amahl says, coldly. "But perhaps it's not too late. I am still your heart. You only need the sculptor's chisel." He grins. "Bâbâ is here." And then he reaches out his hand, presses it to Joonam's heart and then-- His hand sinks inside--

"No!" Joonam gasps, as he feels Amahl forcing his way back inside him. He stumbles back and away from Amahl, but a ghostly Amahl follows along, presses deeper. It's his astral projection, his soul climbing back inside, just like he did in the Club, just like he did when David was a baby--

Terrified, Joonam releases everyone from his hold. He tries to force Amahl out, but part of him wants to let him in, and Amahl keeps pushing into him, inch by inch.

'You are mine!' Amahl thinks to him, furious, joyful, triumphant.

"No!" Joonam cries, but he can't make it stop, he can't-- No no no no no, he doesn't want this, he didn't ask for this, he doesn't want it, no no no no no--

And then--

It's done.

No no no no no--

He can feel Amahl's soul inside him, feeding on him, making him weaker so Amahl can be stronger. He feels sick, violated. He looks around the room, dazed, barely on his feet, and notices-- Amahl's body is standing just a few feet away, its eyes closed. Empty, or-- As empty as it ever was, trapped with the Migo monks, banging on its coffin for years and years.

And then suddenly, Oliver is standing there, right next to Amahl's body.

"Oliver?" Joonam says, the word slurred. His tongue feels slow and thick. He's losing control. His mouth pulls into a smile. "Ah, my friend," his mouth says. "You think you can stop me?"

"No," Oliver says, and points across the room. "But she can."

Joonam's body turns to look, and standing next to the door is Syd.

And then suddenly, the person standing next to the door is Oliver.

Joonam's eyes go wide with fear. "No," his mouth gasps, and he turns--

But it's too late. Syd's bare hand is against Amahl's cheek. Something pulls inside of Joonam, something impossibly strong, and Amahl claws deep inside him, trying to hold on--

"Get down!" Oliver shouts, and then--

Joonam's mouth screams, and everything explodes.

Chapter 195: Night: Be what you need to be. (David)

Chapter Text

For an endless, awful moment, Amahl was everywhere inside Joonam. Amahl was feeding on him, crawling back inside him like he never left, like he'd never leave again, and then he was gone, he was gone again

Joonam wanted Amahl inside him, it was all he wanted. They were supposed to save the world together. Joonam was supposed to be his key, he was— Everything was supposed to be different! They were supposed to be a system, Amahl was supposed to love him.

The pain was supposed to be gone, and now— It's too much. Joonam screams and screams, and something cracks inside him, breaks away. He's not Joonam, he can't be Joonam, he's—

David. He's David.

David screams.

No no no no NO— Get out, get out, GET OUT—

"I tried to make you my son," Amahl snarls, looming over him. "But look at you. You're no god. You're weak, useless garbage. This is all your fault!"

"I'm sorry," David sobs. He's pressed against a wall, huddled in a corner, his body frozen with fear, burning with shame.

"You think you deserve my love?" Amahl mocks. "You're sick, you're disgusting. No one could ever love you, you little piece of shit. David the junkie, the lunatic, the world-killer. All you do is ruin everying."

David sobs, hating himself, it's his fault, all of it is his fault, he ruined everything, that's all he ever does—

No. It was Amahl's fault, Amahl's the monster— Amahl doesn't love him, he never— It was a trick, the whole thing was a trick—

"You're nothing," Amahl growls, teeth bared.

No! He's not nothing, he's not— They're not— They don't have to be hurt. They never had to be hurt. Their mind is their own and they deserve to be safe!

Something cracks inside of him again, again, and breaks away. Dvd crashes into Amahl, screaming furiously, his fists swinging.

"David, it's okay," Divad soothes, trying to calm him. "Joonam is gone. We made it, we're okay."

David doesn't feel okay. He's sobbing so hard he can barely breathe, and everything hurts, everything's wrong. He feels like he's going to die but he knows he doesn't deserve to die because then the suffering would stop and the suffering will never stop—

"Fuck you!" Dvd screams, as he punches Amahl over and over. "Fuck you! Fuck you!"

"Dvd," Divad calls, urgent.

Dvd glances back at Divad, at David, and his anger fades. "Fuck!" He looks down at the barely-conscious Amahl. He gestures with a snarl of disgust, and Amahl is bound in heavy chains, trapped inside a strong metal dog cage. "Bad dog," he spits, baring his teeth in an angry smile. "Stay."

And then he turns to David and his anger evaporates. He kneels down with them, touches David tenderly.

"He's still both Davids," Divad says, worried. "All that pain—"

"David," Dvd calls to him. He smiles, then looks like he's going to cry. "I know you want to be whole, but— You're not ready. It's too much."

"Remember what Ptonomy said," Divad says. "We have the memories back. Our system has them. It's safe to let go."

"Safe?" Dvd scoffs.

"It's safe," Divad says, firmly. "Whatever's going on outside, with the real Farouk— We can deal with him and the Amahl alter, but— Right now David needs to let go."

Dvd huffs, but relents. "Gimme some space. Go keep an eye on him."

Divad stands up and goes to guard the cage.

Dvd looks down at David and tries to wipe away David's tears, but there's too many. It feels like there's a whole ocean of tears inside him and he's drowning, there's air in his lungs but every breath fights a crushing weight and it hurts, it hurts so much.

"I want you to be whole, too," Dvd admits. "I want you to look at me and— Remember how much I've always loved you." He brushes his fingers through David's hair. "I'm selfish. I've always been selfish with you. I can't erase how that hurt you, but— I'm not gonna hurt you again."

David sobs as Dvd pulls him into his arms and holds him. And David remembers everything, he— He remembers loving Dvd and Dvd loving him their whole lives until— One day everything was gone. And it all hurts so much.

"I know you can't do this for yourself," Dvd says, gently. He pulls back to look into David's teary eyes. "So— You're gonna do it for me. For our system. So we can make all this bullshit stop and go back to getting better, so we can heal. We're gonna heal so much. You get me?"

David sobs again. "I don't want to forget."

"No one's forgetting," Dvd says, his voice trembling. "You're just gonna— Spread the load. That's what systems are for, right? So no one's gotta take too much."

"It's too much," David admits. It was always too much, but— "All the fragments. What if—"

He brushes David's hair again, and presses a soft kiss to his forehead. "You're not gonna shatter. You're just gonna let go and— Be what you need to be. Just breathe in and—"

Dvd breathes out, and David breathes out with him and—

Something cracks inside of him. Something breaks away. And then, distantly— Another break.

The ocean of pain rolls back. He still hurts, but— He can breathe. He pulls free of Dvd's embrace and sits up, wipes his face dry. And he turns to look and—

Two Davids looks back at him. Past David, with his deep sorrow and the faded scars on his wrists and—

"Hey," Dvd says, so gently, to the youngest David. The youngest David looks back at them with wide, scared eyes.

"David," Divad says, with quiet grief.

"C'mere," Dvd tells the youngest David. "Everything's gonna be okay." The youngest David looks back at him, uncertain, and then— Falls into Dvd's arms and holds on tight.

He's so young. Looking at this part of himself— David feels so much anger at Farouk. He stands up and looks around, and finally notices that they're back in the white room.

"What happened?" David asks, as he tries to get his bearings. "Farouk was—" He stops, fighting a wave of nausea.

"Syd and Oliver," Divad says. "Do you remember that?"

"Yeah," David says. "But how—"

"I think— They were already swapped when they arrived," Divad says. "And then they swapped back, caught him by surprise. Syd pulled him out of us."

"This is all my fault," Past David says, hollowly.

"No," David says, firmly. "All of this was Farouk's choice. Not ours."

"I helped him," Past David says, ashamed, and then fresh horror comes over him. "I killed Cary's body."

"We all did," David says, unhappily.

"We have to wake up," Divad says. "David, are you up to being in charge?"

"Yeah," David says, with more confidence than he feels. "How long have we been out?"

"Not long," Divad says. "Go help our friends."

David gathers his courage. He pulls Divad into a hug, and feels Divad's surprise, his relief and love. And then—

David wakes up feeling like he was kicked in the chest. He groans and tries to move, and rubble shifts around him. The air is full of dust and smells like— Electricity.

The explosion. Syd's powers, they— They pulled Farouk out of two bodies and into one, like— Like Kerry and Cary. His soul snapped back together and then—

"Syd," David croaks, and coughs.

He hears a groan. "Hurry," says Farouk. "They're waking up."

Farouk. A shot of adrenaline rushes though David, and he starts pushing aside the rubble, trying to stand up. He has to stop Farouk.

He sits up and stops, startled. The Admiral's chamber is ruined, blown out from the explosion. The huge mainframe interface on the wall is completely wrecked, torn wires sending out sparks, and David realizes— Amy. Lenny. Ptonomy.

"No," David gasps, and looks for them in the rubble. They were astral projections, but— They're gone. He sees— Melanie and Oliver, Doctor Orwell, Clark and The Karies— And the Admiral, lying on the floor with his Vermillion. He's unconscious or— Oh god, is he dead?

"Do it," Farouk says, and David turns to see— Farouk sitting on the floor, bleeding and caked with dust. Syd is lying on the floor just a few feet away, unconscious but stirring. There's a Vermillion standing over Farouk, and it has— A machine gun?

The Vermillion raises the gun, points it right at Farouk's head. It turns to look at Syd, and then—

David's jaw drops as the Vermillion fires the gun. A barrage of bullets shoots through Farouk's skull and blows out his brains. The Vermillion just killed him. David feels the shock of his entire system.

Syd sits up and screams. "NO!" Her face is twisted with furious anger and then— Suddenly Syd is sitting where Farouk's body was, and Farouk's body is where Syd was. And Syd's anger transforms into triumphant relief.

"Fuck yeah," the Vermillion cries, musically, and— It's Lenny's voice.

"Lenny?" David says, faint with shock.

"Uh oh," Lenny says. She tosses the gun away. "I got this." She starts towards David, looking alarmingly determined.

"Lenny wait!" David cries, holding up his hands in surrender. "Joonam's gone! It's me, it's David!"

Lenny hesitates. "Which David?"

"Me David," David says. He wobbles to his feet. "Fuck the shit beetle David. Oh my god, Lenny. You killed him?"

"That gun wasn't blowin' bubbles," Lenny says, with as much of a smirk as the Vermillion can manage. "Now who's gonna float away? Enjoy your cosmic fields of bullshit, asshole."

"Cosmic—" David echoes, confused. Then he remembers. "Right, the— The soul needs an anchor." Then he realizes— "Syd!" He stumbles over to her. "You were inside— Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Syd says, though she's clearly shaken. "Are you okay? What happened to Joonam?"

"He broke up," David admits. "I thought being Joonam would keep me safe. And when it didn't—" He looks at Farouk's dead body again. There's a pool of blood and brains around his head, a gruesome halo. He is so, so dead. But Farouk lost his body before. "Are you sure he's—"

"As sure as we can be," Ptonomy says, through the Vermillion's musical voice. "Do you feel him anywhere?"

"Ptonomy," David says, with a brief smile of relief. "Is Amy—"

"I'm here too," Amy says.

"You're all okay?" David says. His legs were already shaky but his relief almost makes him fall over.

Everyone else is starting to wake up and wobble to their feet, even the Admiral. No one's unscathed, but—

David looks at Farouk's body again, still trying to process his death. After all that— "It's over?"

"How's your system right now?" Ptonomy asks. "The new memories?"

"Uh, complicated," David admits. "There's, um— Two other Davids and— An Amahl." He rubs at his face. "Divad and Dvd are handling it."

"Is Amahl a danger?" Ptonomy asks, concerned.

"Not right now," David says. "I think. But—" Even if Amahl is just memories, feelings— The thought of any part of Farouk being inside him— It makes his skin crawl.

"We'll figure it out," Ptonomy assures him.

And then David sees the Karies standing up, brushing themselves off. "Cary," he says, softly.

The Karies look at him warily.

"I'm so sorry," David says, even though the words feel utterly inadequate. He hurt them the same way Farouk hurt him. Just like he did with Syd, with Oliver.

Oliver. Maybe Oliver can figure out some way to—

"Oliver," David calls, walking towards him. "Is there a— Some way we can— Make Cary a new body? I mean, with the gene gun, or—"

Oliver walks right past him without a word. David turns, confused. Oliver walks up to the Admiral, and it seems like he's reaching out help him, and then— Oliver shoves his hand into the Admiral's chest.

The Vermillion collapses as Oliver pulls out three silver cords. Amy, Lenny, and Ptonomy fall out of the Admiral again, shocked astral projections, and then before any of them can react, Oliver breaks the cords.

"No!" David gasps, and reaches for them. But Oliver pulls them in and— They vanish inside him.

"Farouk," David breathes, knows. He takes a step back, then straightens his back, curls his hands into fists. "Let them go."

Farouk smirks with Oliver's face. "Or what? You'll shoot me? Please, destroy this body. Free his soul."

'This is not good,' says Divad, in the back of David's head.

"Leave Oliver alone!" Kerry yells. She starts for Farouk, then stops. Starts, stops. "Cary, stop it!"

'It's too dangerous!' Cary says.

"He's got Oliver!" Kerry protests.

'And we only have one body and no way to heal!' Cary says. 'Please, I— I don't want us to die!'

Farouk turns and catches Syd in her attempt to sneak up on him, her bare hand outstretched. He freezes her in place, and David can feel her fear. "How predictable," Farouk says, and reaches for her. David realizes, with horror, that's he's going to pull out her soul, too.

No.

David rushes forward, and with all his strength he runs right through Oliver and slams into Farouk's astral form. Farouk is knocked completely out of Oliver, and dissolves into an ominous black cloud before vanishing up through the ceiling.

"Track him," Clark says, touching the Division 3 transmitter in his ear. "What do you mean he's gone?"

David reaches out his mind, searching, and feels— A faint trail. An invitation. "He's on the astral plane," he says. "He's waiting for me."

"Oliver!" Kerry says, and Cary finally lets go. They rush over to him.

Oliver's still on his feet, but he's shaken. "I'm all right," he says. "That was— Unpleasantly familiar."

"Oliver," Cary says, full of relief and shame. "I'm sorry. I couldn't—"

"I'm quite glad you didn't," Oliver says. "Farouk is— Apocalyptically angry." He turns to David. "We have to stop him."

"We will," David promises. He turns to Syd. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," Syd says, with a small smile. "Don't move." She steps up to him and, carefully avoiding any bare skin, she wraps her arms around him, rests her cheek against his chest.

Slowly, carefully, David holds her.

"You came back," Syd says, her voice rough.

"So did you," David says. He can feel the tension seeping out of him even though he's already bracing for another fight. "You saved me. Again."

"I promised I'd protect you," Syd says, and David feels a warm ripple of happiness from her. It makes him feel like— Everything's gonna be okay.

"Melanie?" Doctor Orwell says, concerned. "Melanie, can you hear me?" Doctor Orwell is removing Melanie's cuffs, checking her over, but Melanie's just— Staring into the distance.

No. She's staring at Oliver.

"We need to get her to the infirmary," Doctor Orwell tells Clark.

"Wait," Oliver says, and he walks up to Melanie.

Melanie stares up at him, her eyes full of— Fascination. "You said— You were on— A mostly liquid diet."

"We were supposed to have dinner," Oliver says. "So I could figure out why you were so familiar."

"Do you remember me now?" Melanie asks, fondly. "Because I remember you." Grief crosses her face, then joy. "Oliver Bird."

"Melanie Justine Origen Bird," Oliver says, and absolutely beams at her. "If, of course, you'll still have me?"

"Fantastic," Clark says, dryly. "Everyone has their memories back. You can write your memoirs in prison." He waves his hand and several soldiers walk into the room.

"Are you serious right now?" Syd says, astonished. "Farouk is out there. He has our friends."

"And he has no body," Clark says. "The Divisions no longer consider him— Unstoppable by conventional means."

'Unbelievable,' Divad groans, loudly, in the back of David's head. 'What the hell is wrong with these idiots?'

'That's what I've been asking for weeks,' Dvd says.

"Lenny just killed Farouk's body," Syd reminds Clark. "What do you think he's gonna do to her? Or Ptonomy or Amy? We have to save them."

Clark gives a reluctant grimace. "They are at this point— All technically dead."

"Lemme kick him!" Kerry growls, struggling to move forward. "Just one good kick, c'mon!"

'Absolutely not!' Cary chides.

Kerry huffs. "Sharing our body this way sucks."

'Yes, well— We both have to make adjustments,' Cary replies.

David crosses his arms. "You realize that there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop me." And to prove his point, he teleports the soldiers to a park on the other side of town. The ones in the room, and the ones waiting down the hall.

Clark manages to not flinch. "Yes, I'm— Quite aware of that." He gives off a ripple of frustration.

"Let me guess," Melanie says, crossing her arms, too. "You're just following orders. How original."

'His family,' Syd thinks. "Where's Buster and Daniel?" she asks. "And Ptonomy's family?"

Clark doesn't look eager to answer that. "Safe," he admits. "No thanks to him." He gestures at David.

"Farouk brainwashed him," Syd defends.

"I don't care," Clark replies, his anger leaking out, laced with fading terror.

"I'll bring them back here," David offers. He can't fix everything he did as Joonam, but— He has to try.

"No!" Clark says, with a sudden burst of panic. Then he's controlled again, and tense. "Stay the hell away from my son."

David holds up his hands in surrender, and takes a step back.

"Clark," Syd says, gently. "You need to be with your family. Let David bring them here." When Clark doesn't respond, she continues. "Farouk is out there. Distance didn't protect Amy and Ben."

"Fine," Clark says, tightly. "But not here, not anywhere near him." He gestures at David again.

"The conference room?" Syd offers.

"Do it," Clark says.

David takes a breath, reaches out across the world to find— Daniel and Buster, and Ptonomy's family— They're still together, scared and confused, Daniel is frantic with worry for Clark— And with a thought, they're upstairs in the conference room.

"They're back," David says, softly.

Clark gives a brief shudder of relief. He starts to leave, but then stops. He stares at David, angry and grateful and— Overwhelmed with hurt and confusion that he barely shows.

But David can feel it. And so can Oliver.

"Go be with your family," Oliver tells Clark. "We'll stop Farouk. And if you still want to arrest us when he's dead, we'll have a nice argument about it."

Clark looks at Oliver with annoyance, but then— Relief. Without a word, he rushes out of the room.

"His therapist," Syd says. "Minnie, Doctor Midthunder."

"I suspect the full support team will be needed," Oliver says.

"Minnie?" Cary says, surprised. "She's here?"

"And Miriam and Marcelle," Oliver says. "Perhaps you should go and speak to them?"

David can feel Cary's longing and excitement, and then— His disappointment. "They were supposed to be part of Division 4, but— I don't think that's going to happen now."

Cary looks at David, and then he looks away, choked with grief.

"Cary," David starts, needing to do something to fix this. "Maybe I can—"

"No," Cary says, firmly. Then he softens. "I know— It wasn't your fault. But—" He trails off, then retreats, and Kerry is back in charge. She straightens their back, determined. "We're gonna go help Clark, even if he is a jerk." And then she marches out.

'This is all my fault,' Past David says, in the back of David's head.

'It was Farouk,' Dvd insists.

'Farouk didn't tell us to destroy Cary's body,' Divad says, unhappily. 'We did it because— We wanted the Karies to be like us. Like Joonam.'

'Yeah, and Joonam was Farouk's fault,' Dvd says. 'He fucked us, like he always does.'

The medical team arrives with a stretcher, and Doctor Orwell greets them, directs them over to the Admiral. David watches as they carry the Admiral up onto the stretcher, and feels like all of this is his fault. And now Ptonomy and Amy and Lenny— He has to save them.

"I have to stop Farouk," David says.

"We do," Oliver says. "But is your system ready to stop him?"

David wants to say yes, but—

He wishes Ptonomy was here. Ptonomy would help him make sense of everything. Lenny would make things manageable, keep the cruise ship Mental Health from sinking. And Amy would hold him and make everything feel okay.

But they're the ones he has to save.

"David," Melanie says. "Can Dvd and Divad come out and talk to us?"

"They want to," David says, knowing they do. "But things are—" He trails off.

"Your system has new members," Oliver says, understanding. "Then perhaps— You could bring us inside?"

David stares, surprised, but then— Realizes he can. The crown's gone and Joonam healed the damage it left behind. There's nothing holding him back. At least— Nothing outside of him.

'Is that okay?' David thinks.

'Yeah, let's do it,' Divad says.

'Worth a shot,' Dvd says.

Past David gives a mental shrug. The youngest David is still huddled in Dvd's arms. Amahl is recovering from Dvd's assault, but— David's hardly going to ask his opinion.

Melanie and Oliver take each other's hand. They smile at each other and then turn to David, determined. And then David turns to Syd.

"Do you want to—" David asks, uncertain.

"Do you want me to?" Syd asks. "I don't want to hurt your system."

"Syd, you saved us," David says, but— He knows why she's wary. He's glad she's wary. It's so easy for him to just— Push aside his own pain and fear for the sake of— Making someone else happy.

That's what Joonam was. David twisted himself into someone else for Farouk. It felt like he had to. It felt like the only way to hold on to— The happiness and safety Amahl promised him. And all that was a lie.

But what he has with Syd— He hopes that's real. He wants to make it real.

"We want you to be part of our life," David tells her, honestly.

Syd eases. She quirks a tiny smile and holds out her gloved hand. David takes it, and gives a small smile back.

And with a thought, he pulls them in.

Chapter 196: Night: How about we all have a chat? (David)

Chapter Text

The white room is the same as David left it, the same as it was when it was first created. Joonam put everything back, everything that David took out. The white furniture, the white decor—

The white bed. David and Syd both look at the bed, and then at each other. There are too many memories here, wonderful and terrible ones. David wants to wipe it all away again, but— Now's not the time.

He lets go of Syd's hand and walks towards his headmates.

"Hello there," Oliver greets.

David's headmates are also the same as he left them. Past David and Dvd are sitting together in the corner, with the youngest David curled up in Dvd's arms. And Divad is standing guard over the dog cage that Amahl's inside. Amahl's awake now, glaring daggers at everyone, but still tightly chained.

"Oliver," Divad greets, visibly relieved. "Melanie." And then he sees Syd. "You killed him."

"Just his body," Syd admits.

Divad takes a step towards Syd. "Can I—?" He starts to open his arms. Syd nods, and Divad hugs her. "Thank you," he says, deeply grateful.

"And who do we have here?" Melanie asks, and kneels in front of Dvd.

"You know David," Dvd says, gesturing at Past David. "And this is, uh, also David."

"Hi," Melanie says, gently, to the youngest David. The youngest David looks at her shyly.

"Then this must be Amahl," Oliver says. He considers the dog cage. "That doesn't look very comfortable."

"He was hurting David," Dvd says, his anger restrained to avoid upsetting the youngest David. "Divad's gonna erase him. Right?"

Divad doesn't look thrilled. "We need to get rid of Farouk's memories," he agrees.

"And we gotta kill his soul," Dvd says, and turns to David. "You ready?"

David wishes he could say yes, but—

Amahl gives a low chuckle. "Of course he's not ready. He'll never be ready. He's weak."

Dvd glares at Amahl, furious, but then— The youngest David whimpers, upset, and Dvd goes back to soothing him.

"He's right," Past David says, hollowly. "If we try to stop Farouk— He'll trick us. Torture us. Again and again—"

"You've never been able to stop me," Amahl sneers, and he's staring right at David now. "Fight me again and I'll break you into even more pieces. You'll be nothing but fragments."

"That's enough," Divad warns. He gives David a worried glance.

"It's okay," David says, and steps up to the dog cage. He stares down at Amahl, disturbed and fascinated. The image of Farouk's dead body flashes in his mind, gory and absolute. Distantly he's aware that he's still in shock, that his whole system must still be in shock. Even Amahl.

"You're not Farouk," David tells Amahl. "You were never Farouk."

Amahl bares his teeth, first in anger and then a cruel smile. "And you were never David."

The accusation should hurt. But after losing everything and getting everything back, after being Joonam and then a whole entire David—

David's shoulders drop, his back straightens. "I am David," he says, and feels it. "And so are you."

Amahl's smile falls into a scowl.

"We can stop Farouk," David says, certain. "We will. But first—" He looks to Oliver.

"How about we all have a chat?" Oliver says. He turns to look at the sitting area across the room, the matching white sofas and white chairs and glass coffee table. "Those look much more comfortable than the floor. Dvd, Divad, could you arrange things for us?"

Dvd and Divad exchange wary looks. "Kinda got our hands full," Dvd says.

"They'll be all right," Oliver assures them. "I'll watch over Amahl."

"And I'll stay with David," Melanie says, sitting beside Past David. "Syd, could you help Dvd?"

Syd kneels down beside Dvd. "Hey there," she tells the youngest David. "I'm Syd. And you're David, right? Would it be okay if I hold you?"

The youngest David stares at Syd, at Dvd.

"It's okay," Dvd tells him.

The youngest David stares at them some more, then finally lets go of Dvd. He stands up and walks over to Syd and clings to her just as tightly. Syd lets out a soft gasp, then eases, and David feels her love in gentle, steady waves. It helps him feel a little calmer, a little stronger.

Dvd and Divad reluctantly leave the group and go over to the sitting area, and start moving furniture around.

"How are you feeling?" Melanie asks Past David.

Past David just gives her a bleak look.

"Is there something we can do to help you feel better?" Melanie asks.

"No," Past David says, tightly.

"No?" Melanie asks. "Is that because— You feel like you don't deserve to feel better?"

Past David gives her another bleak look.

Melanie nods, understanding. "You know, I've been through a lot, too. I was taken, changed. I hurt people I care about. Everything was so confusing and— Frightening. And when I came back to myself— I felt ashamed."

She pauses, meeting Past David's eyes.

"I know what happened wasn't my fault," Melanie continues. "And you know it wasn't your fault. But that doesn't really help, does it?"

"No," Past David says, so quietly.

"I think what we both need right now is a hug," Melanie says, her tone light despite the pain in her voice. "Maybe— You could give me one, to help me?"

Past David starts to move, then tightens up again. "I can't help anyone."

Melanie gives him a considering look. "Everything hurts so much."

Past David gives a tense nod.

"It's okay if it hurts," Melanie says. "Our pain is very real. It's okay to feel it. But we don't have to carry it alone."

She holds out her hand to Past David, and he stares at it for a long moment. And then— He takes it. A moment later, his chin starts to wobble and he breaks into tears. Melanie reaches out and he falls into her arms, bawling.

"Shh, it's all right," Melanie soothes. "Just let it out."

The youngest David whimpers and buries his face against Syd, and Syd holds him, strokes his hair and his back, soothing him.

"Pathetic," Amahl mutters.

"Would you like a hug as well, Amahl?" Oliver asks, genuinely.

"You think all this touchy-feely crap's gonna change anything?" Amahl sneers. "David's a loser. He's useless. He can't even keep himself in one piece."

"David is what he needs to be," Oliver replies. "And I believe— You are what you need to be. Would you like to talk about yourself, Amahl?"

Amahl suddenly has nothing to say.

"How about we get you out of there?" Oliver says. He reaches for the door of the dog cage and finds a sturdy padlock. "Dvd, would you mind?"

Dvd puts down the chair he was carrying. "He can stay in there and rot."

"Because he hurt David?" Oliver says. "It's not unusual for members of your system to do that."

Dvd marches over. "He's not part of us. He's just a trick. We wipe Farouk's memories, he's gone. Right, Divad?"

Divad hesitates.

Dvd rounds on him. "Right?" he asks again.

"Maybe," Divad says. "But— Don't you think he's acting— Weird? He doesn't sound much like Farouk anymore. He's more like—" And then realization flashes across his face. "Dvd, what happened to the fragments? The self-harm ones, the teenagers?"

"You don't have them?" Dvd asks, frowning.

"No, I—" Divad starts. "I didn't want them back. And— David's rational mind is gone, too. When I broke off— He didn't want to go with me."

Dvd glares down at Amahl, scrutinizing. "Still fragment-snatching?"

"No, wait," Divad says, his brow furrowed. "Amahl broke off before I did. And you broke off before me. So David's rational mind— Has to be in David."

Dvd turns to David. "You got him back?"

"Uh, I don't think so," David says. He remembers meeting his rational mind, but he doesn't remember being his rational mind.

Everyone turns to look at Past David.

Past David's still crying in Melanie's arms, but the worst is over and he's just tearful and sniffly. He raises his head.

"David," David asks. "Do you have— Our rational mind?"

Past David hesitates, then nods. "He was tricked into being Joonam. Like me. He's ashamed. He said— It's his job to help. And being part of me— Would help." He turns to Divad. "Are you mad?"

"No," Divad says, and cracks a smile. "No, this is— This is great!"

Past David cracks the tiniest smile back, despite his tears.

Dvd is still glaring at Amahl. "You took the other fragments. Admit it!"

"We fused because we wanted to," Amahl gloats. "Divad's weak. He was always fighting us, afraid to do what needed to be done. You're all weak."

"You wanna be Amahl?" Dvd says. "Good. We'll erase you too."

"Perhaps instead of threatening each other, it would be more helpful to sit down and talk," Oliver says, firmly. "Dvd, if you please?" He gestures to the padlock.

Dvd glares at Oliver. "If he even thinks about hurting David, he's gonna wish Lenny'd blown his brains out." He gestures and the padlock unlocks and vanishes.

Oliver opens the dog cage and helps Amahl out. "The chains?" he says to Dvd.

Dvd gestures again, and the chains drop to the floor with a loud crash. They pointedly don't vanish. Amahl steps out of the pile of chains and straightens his suit. Then he walks past Dvd and Divad, sits down at the far end of one of the sofas, and makes himself comfortable.

Dvd seethes.

"C'mon," Divad tells Dvd. "Oliver's right, we need a session."

Past David and Melanie are already getting to their feet. David goes over to Syd and offers his hand. She takes it and he pulls her and the youngest David up.

Everyone takes a seat. Dvd still looks ready to take Amahl down, so Divad sends him to the other sofa and sits next to Amahl himself. Melanie puts Past David next to Dvd, and Syd sits next to Past David, with the youngest David on her lap. David sits next to Divad. Melanie and Oliver take the two chairs.

"First, let's all take a moment and look at each other," Oliver says. "Recognize that you are all parts of a single system, a single soul. Acknowledge that your system has been through enormous change and suffered a great deal of emotional and physical pain."

David looks at his headmates, and silently acknowledges. Dvd, Divad, and Past David do the same. The youngest David just watches, and Amahl— Amahl is tense under his facade of calm.

"Each of you is important," Oliver continues. "You help your system survive and process what you've experienced. You should all be proud of yourselves and each other."

"What's there to be proud of?" Dvd mutters. "Getting tortured again? Getting mentally fucked? Yeah, we're great at that."

"We hurt people," Divad says, unhappily. "We hurt Cary and Kerry."

"Joonam, did, yes," Oliver says.

"But we're Joonam," Divad says. "All of us together. We were him."

"You were," Oliver says. "Would you like to talk about that?"

No one replies.

"You shouldn't have to do this right now," Melanie says, sympathetic. "But Farouk is still out there. If we don't do discuss this, you'll be vulnerable."

"You think they can stop me?" Amahl asks, mocking. "They're pathetic, useless."

"Shut your face," Dvd warns, his teeth bared.

"Dvd," Oliver cautions. "Amahl, don't you want to stop Farouk?"

"I'm simply stating the facts," Amahl says. He turns to Melanie. "You want to make them soldiers? With therapy?" He scoffs. "C'est absurde."

"You're acting more like your namesake," Oliver observes. "Is that because you're calmer, more in control?"

Amahl doesn't reply.

"Farouk feeds on our confusion, our anger and fear," Oliver says. "Powerful weapons. But it's our power, not his. We protect ourselves with our understanding, our love and acceptance."

"With love, acceptance, and forgiveness," David says, remembering their system foundation. It feels good to be able to remember it again, to remember building it, making it strong. "'We belong to ourselves.' We believed that, so— Joonam believed it. That's why he said no." He remembers how terrifying it was to say no, as Joonam, but— How much he needed to say it. And it was such a relief—

"Saying no didn't stop Farouk," Dvd says, unhappily. "He crawled right back into our head."

"As Joonam, you were vulnerable," Oliver says. "You accepted that Farouk was a part of you."

"Yeah, and now?" Dvd says, gesturing at Amahl. "If we don't erase him, he's gonna let Farouk right back in."

"Is that what you want, Amahl?" Oliver asks.

Amahl still doesn't reply. He reaches up as if to adjust his sunglasses, but he's not wearing any. His mouth twitches at the corner and he drops his hand.

"When you came into existence, you believed you were Amahl Farouk," Oliver says. "You had only his memories to guide you, his desires. But as Joonam, you rejected Farouk."

"That was his choice, not mine," Amahl says, tersely.

"Then you disagreed?" Oliver asks. "Divad said you were the first to break off from Joonam, and then you attacked David. Were you punishing him for rejecting Farouk?"

"David needs to be punished," Amahl says, and turns a cold glare on David and Past David. Past David whimpers and turns away, and Dvd holds him, soothes him, while glaring back at Amahl.

"You're not just Farouk's memories anymore," David says. "You fused with other parts of our system." The teenage alters who attacked him, with their chemicals and pills and razor blades. He knows what they are now. "Parts of me that— Believed I had to hurt myself."

Amahl's mouth twitches into a cruel smile, entirely unlike the actual Farouk's expressions. "Because you deserve it."

"That's what I thought, when you were parts of me," Divad says to Amahl. "But I was wrong. We didn't suffer for a reason. It wasn't because of anything we did, or what we are. It happened because— Farouk chose to hurt us. That's all. And if you have his memories— You must remember how he felt."

"He felt that you deserved to suffer," Amahl says, smugly.

"Why?" David asks. "Because I was— The son of someone you can't even remember? I know Farouk didn't share that memory. Farouk is still so angry, so afraid of him—" He gives an astonished laugh. "That's all this is, all of it. Farouk is still— Stuck in that fight. He lost and— Maybe that was the first time he ever really lost."

"I think it was," Divad agrees. "He felt like a god among humans. He made his reality. And after he lost all of that— The only way he could feel like a god again was to invade and torture a defenseless baby." He shakes his head. "You know what that is? That's weak, that's pathetic."

"And you're a child, afraid to do what needs to be done," Amahl says, angrily.

"Amahl, what needs to be done?" Melanie asks, calmly.

"Isn't it obvious?" Amahl says, disdainful. "We need to be Joonam."

"Why?" Melanie asks.

"As Joonam, we were a god," Amahl says, with longing. "Our sickness was gone. Our pain was gone. There were no broken pieces. We were what we were always meant to be."

"So you feel— Being Joonam keeps you safe," Melanie says.

"We were healed," Amahl says.

"Then might I ask— Why were you the one who broke Joonam up?" Oliver asks.

Amahl bares his teeth, but doesn't answer.

"It was my fault," Past David says, mournful. "We weren't supposed to hurt anymore. But— We did. I did."

"Pathetic," Amahl sneers.

"So— You're angry at David for hurting," Melanie says. "You want him to stop hurting. You want your system to be healed and safe."

"That's what I wanted, too," Divad says, realizing. "I thought— Our pain was David's fault, that if he would just stop screwing up— We'd be safe." He turns to Past David. "But hurting you didn't make us safe."

"It would have, if you weren't such a chicken," Amahl sneers. "You just never went far enough."

"How far is enough?" David asks. "I tried so hard to reach 'enough' I almost killed us. Is that what you want?"

Amahl scowls and says nothing.

"We don't need to be Joonam to be strong," David continues. "We don't need to hurt our system. We never did. We just need to work together and— Love each other."

"I will never love you," Amahl sneers.

"The real Farouk won't," David agrees. "He only loves our pain. But you want the pain to stop. You want the real Farouk to stop hurting us. But being Joonam didn't protect us. It can't because— Farouk will always choose to hurt us."

"You're right," Past David says, quietly. He takes a shaky breath, straightens his back. "We need to stop him."

"You bet we will," Dvd says, looking at Past David proudly. Past David gives a wobbly smile back.

"Help us," Divad says to Amahl. "Please."

"A rousing speech," Amahl says, dryly. "And pointless. Even when Farouk loses, he wins. I know this." He looks at Syd. "You destroyed his body. So what?" He turns back to David. "You think he will be weak? His pain makes him stronger. He will break this system again, and destroy everyone you care about. He will torture you for another thirty years, and another, and another, all because you are David Haller. The only escape is death. The death of David Haller, and the rebirth of Joonam Farouk. Only as Joonam do we have any hope."

"No," Past David says, though he's shaken. "Being Joonam didn't save us. We did everything he wanted and it still wasn't enough."

"It would have been enough if you weren't weak," Amahl says.

"What, we were supposed to kill everyone and trap their souls in some kid?" Past David asks, disbelieving. "You think that would've made Farouk love us?"

"We were supposed to be his son," Amahl says, coldly. "We betrayed him."

"I don't want to be his son!" Past David says, upset. "I spent a year trying to be his son. He tortured me and I thanked him. He pretended to be Syd and—" He chokes, looks away. Dvd rubs his back, soothing. "He raped me," Past David says, roughly. He turns back, tears in his eyes. "You think someone like that could ever love us? He made us love him so many times, he took our love. But it's just food to him. We're just food." He sobs, tears streaking down his face. "I am so tired— Of losing everything— Because he's hungry."

"He's right," Divad says, soberly. "It wasn't just Joonam. In some ways— We've always been Farouk's son. Farouk taught us to hurt ourselves and that was all we did for thirty years." He looks at Amahl imploringly. "When we were a kid— Someone should have helped us. Protected us. But they didn't. And it's wrong. It's shit, okay? But we're not a kid anymore. And we have help. We're learning to protect ourselves."

"You tried and you failed," Amahl says, unmoved.

"We did fail," Divad admits. "But we kept trying. The more Farouk pushed us, the more we pushed back. We remembered that we belong to ourselves, not him. We told him no. And we have to keep telling him no."

"Amahl," Melanie says. "You have many of Farouk's memories. Aren't they a powerful weapon?"

"Yeah," Dvd says, with a glint of excitement. "Stop whining and help us kick his ass. Unless you're chicken?" And then he starts clucking.

Amahl scowls at him, tenses up.

"Dvd," Oliver chides.

Dvd's humor fades. "No, fuck him," he says, angry. "He doesn't wanna help? He's afraid of the big bad monster? We don't need him."

"Yes, we do," David says. "He's right, Farouk's going to do what he always does. He has Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy. He's going to use them to control us. And if that fails, he'll do whatever it takes to break us. We need a plan and we need to work together."

"If we were Joonam, we'd be a god," Amahl says.

"Joonam is dead," Past David says, certain.

Amahl stands up and walks away. At the other side of the room, he pauses, and then walks into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

"I'll talk to him," Oliver says.

"No, wait," David says, and stands. "Let me try."

"I can help," Divad offers.

David shakes his head. "I don't think those fragments are the problem." He walks up to the bathroom door, and the slowly opens it.

Amahl is inside, sitting on the edge of the tub. David closes the door, then sits down next to him. He waits, and then—

"I remember, when we were Joonam," David says. "Farouk showed up and— He was so happy, so proud of what he'd done. But we felt— Betrayed. Devastated. We thought he gave himself to us, but— It was just another trick."

"Is that all I am?" Amahl asks, quietly. "A trick?"

"No," David says, kindly. "You're my headmate."

Amahl looks at him, and his genuine vulnerability is a poor fit on Farouk's face.

"Farouk forced his memories into our system," David continues. "But we're more than just— A collection of memories. We're who we are now, the choices we make now."

"Ptonomy told you that," Amahl says.

"Farouk watched my therapy," David admits. "You remember being him. You thought you were him."

"Thirty-two years of memories," Amahl says, with a sigh.

"A lifetime," David agrees.

"Only a fraction of his," Amahl says. "But I can't remember anything before— Finding you. A baby crying in his cradle. I was bitter and filled with hate. I remember— Savoring your suffering, your pain. For decades. The depths of my cruelty—"

"None of that was you," David reminds him.

Amahl gives him a pitying look. "This part of you barely remembers what I am capable of."

"Would you do it now?" David asks. "The child part of me is sitting right out there. Would you torture him, savor his suffering?"

"No," Amahl says, quietly horrified.

"Then it's not who you are," David says, certain.

"And yet," Amahl sighs. "When we were part of Divad, we always— Wanted there to be a reason. A purpose for our suffering. But I know— There was none. I wanted revenge, to hurt Charles, but— I needed someone— Easy to hurt. A victim. I was— So surprised, when even a baby was too strong for me. The insult was too much. I was a god, and I had been defeated twice, and trapped."

"I defeated you?" David asks, skeptically.

"Many times," Amahl admits. "The worst was— King. Dvd was right. The three of you— You acted as one. Not fused like Joonam, but—"

"Sharing," David realizes. Like eating cherries together on the roof, with Syd. Like feeling love for Amy together. Like— Fixing the rocket lamp.

"Yes," Amahl agrees. "After that, when I tried to be King for you— I couldn't. I had to find— Other ways— To trick you into loving me."

"Why?" David asks.

"Because it hurt you," Amahl says. "Because it was a game. Because— I was lonely. Jealous. Still so angry at Charles, angry Charles gave you away and denied me my intended audience."

"You could have asked for help," David says, needs to say it. "Both of us were strong enough to find other mutants. Someone could have helped us, freed you."

"They could have," Amahl agrees. "But to save myself— I would have had to let you go. How can a monster release its prey, the torturer his victim? How can the moon escape the sun? The stronger you became— The more I needed to keep you." His eyes flash with greed, with longing. Then he frowns, unhappy. "I am not him. But I have his memories, his feelings."

"Like— Lenny and Benny," David realizes.

"Dvd and Divad want to take all that away," Amahl says. "Perhaps they should. These memories are not like the ones I took from you. They were never yours. And carrying them is— Painful. My presence is painful. Another torture."

"Yes," David admits.

"But who am I without them?" Amahl asks. "Unwanted fragments. None of you want us back."

"Maybe you could just— Be yourselves?" David offers. "You know, give up on the blunt razors and— Join in with the therapy?"

Amahl gives him a skeptical look, but then considers it. "Perhaps."

"I don't think more brain surgery is a good idea right now," David points out. "And we have to stop Farouk. So— Will you help us?"

"I want to be Joonam," Amahl admits. "When I was created— That was all that mattered. It was going to fix everything. Not just your pain but— Mine. Farouk's pain. He's desperate to be with you, to keep you, own you. He's your missing limb. When you were gone for that year— Not having you was— Unbearable."

"He's not my limb," David says.

"Part of you wants him back," Amahl says. "Not just me. Part of you. Part of Dvd and Divad, and the other David. Even the little one. We all crave him. His cruelty, his games. He was part of us for our entire life."

"Yes," David admits. "Being Joonam— I know why you want it. Letting him in felt— So good. But the good part never lasts. It doesn't make us safe. Maybe we need— To let each other in, instead."

"You want to fuse?" Amahl asks, a little hopeful.

"No," David says, certain. "But I want our system to be safe. I want us to love each other. You know, the other parts of you, the fragments— I'm not angry with them. Hurting David is— Something our system does a lot. We're all trying to stop, but— It's hard. Because—" He pauses, swallows. "The world hurt us. And to survive— We had to hurt us, too. Maybe it wasn't healthy, but— It helped us stay alive. You helped us. So— Thank you, for that."

Amahl's eyes are shining with tears. It's so utterly unlike the real Farouk— That it's easy for David to do what he does next.

He opens his arms and offers a hug to Amahl, and Amahl hugs him. Amahl trembles in his embrace, taking shaky breathes, and his tears are damp against David's neck.

"Thank you," David says again, softly.

After a minute, Amahl pulls back, wipes at his face. "I'll help," he promises. "Whatever it takes. I'll help you stop him."

Chapter 197: Night: The motion of change is beautiful. (David)

Chapter Text

When Amahl is ready, David leads them out of the bathroom. As they head back to the sitting area, David notices Syd is sitting on the white bed, away from the others. Worried, he walks over to her.

"Syd?" David asks. "Is something wrong?"

"We're fine," Syd says, with her small smile. "He was just getting squirmy."

She gestures down, and David sees the youngest David sitting on the floor, drawing on the white wall. The youngest David pauses to look up at David, then gets back to his drawing. David crouches down next to him.

"Astronauts," David realizes. The youngest David is drawing a familiar pair of astronauts, using a purple crayon. "Isn't that from the wallpaper? In our bedroom." He turns back to Syd. "Where did he get the crayon?"

Syd shrugs. "He just had it."

The youngest David finishes the astronauts and draws craters, Saturn, a rocketship. And then— The white wall around the drawing turns to a light grey-blue, and the crayon drawings become the orange saturn, the red and blue astronauts, the red rocketship with its yellow cone. And then the wallpaper spreads out across the room, covering the walls and clashing with the formal, pristine white of everything else.

"He changed it," David says, surprised. Like he did himself when he had the purple crayon, when he made a purple forest, a purple world. It must be the same crayon. "Can I see that?" he asks the youngest David.

The youngest David shakes his head. "It's mine," he says, and holds the crayon protectively.

"Okay," David says. "You like the wallpaper, huh?"

The youngest David nods.

"I like it, too," David says. He thinks of the young fragments he found here, when he was barely more than a fragment himself. If the teenaged fragments became part of Amahl, then— Maybe some of those child fragments became the youngest David. Pieces of himself and of Past David? No, the youngest David split off from Past David. He must have the real memories of their childhood, not the fake ones Farouk made. He remembers being a system, remembers growing up with the monster.

"What do you guys think?" David asks, when no one replies to his thoughts.

Dvd shrugs. "It's better than white."

David turns, confused. "No, I mean— About the fragments."

"Fragments?" Divad asks, confused.

"What I was just thinking," David says. "Didn't you hear it?"

Dvd and Divad exchange looks. "We didn't hear anything," Divad says.

"You don't?" Past David asks. "What about me?"

"Think something," Dvd says.

Past David pauses, then looks at Dvd, expectant.

Dvd shakes his head.

"Nothing," Divad says, shaken. "Oliver, what's going on?"

"I don't think we can hear his, either," David says, gesturing at the youngest David.

"What the hell did you do to them?" Dvd says, turning on Amahl.

"Let's all stay calm," Oliver says. "Dvd and Divad, can you hear each other's thoughts?"

A pause. "Yeah," Divad says, and Dvd nods.

"And if you share your thoughts with the Davids?" Oliver asks.

'This better work,' Dvd thinks.

'Whatever this is, we're gonna fix it,' Divad thinks.

"I hear them," David says, relieved.

"Me too," Past David says, relieved.

"And how about you?" Oliver asks the youngest David.

'It's okay,' Divad soothes. 'If you hear this, just nod, okay?'

The youngest David nods.

"Very good," Oliver says. He stands up and walks over to the bed. "David, will you join us?" he asks Past David.

Past David, David, and the youngest David sit together on the edge of the bed. Dvd and Divad walk over, but give them space.

Oliver reaches out to the Davids and closes his eyes. He concentrates, frowns, then opens his eyes, lowers his hands.

"Well, this is interesting," Oliver says. "When I checked you over before, you had no mental shields. And now— You do have them. All of three of you."

"We do?" David says, surprised.

"That's impossible," Past David says.

"Is it?" Oliver asks. "Your system, as a whole, has always had the ability to shield its thoughts."

"But I didn't!" Past David says. He looks to Dvd, distraught, saying nothing aloud but— When Dvd doesn't respond, he's devastated.

"Oliver," Dvd says, upset.

"'The motion of change is beautiful,'" Oliver quotes. "'As well as form called in and out of being.' Each of your forms was called out of being when you became Joonam. And when you called yourselves back into being, you became— Not what you needed to be when you were children. But what you need to be now."

"But they can't hear me," Past David says, on the verge of tears.

"Then let them hear you," Oliver says.

"It's like— Choosing to talk," David realizes. Choosing to share. Opening up. He can do that. He can let the people he loves in.

"I heard that!" Dvd says, with a wide, relieved smile.

"You can do it, too," David assures Past David. "Not being able to shield our thoughts— That hurt us. It hurt our system. Now— We can choose to share. Because we have— Healthy boundaries." He breaks into a relieved smile.

Past David gives David a dubious look.

"I know it feels strange," David says, sobering. "I've only known about my powers for a couple of months, but— You've always known." He glances over at Dvd and Divad. "And you've always— Had someone watching over your thoughts. Guarding you. Knowing what you needed— Even before you did."

Past David nods. "It's how we work."

"It was," David agrees. "But we didn't have a choice, then. We do now."

Past David's still unhappy. And his shields are still up.

"David?" David prompts, concerned.

"I don't— Want a choice," Past David says, tightly. "I chose to be Joonam and look what happened!"

"That's not the same—"

"You're the one who wanted a shield!" Past David says, angry. "It's your fault!"

"David," David starts, exasperated, and looks to the others for help.

"We know you want to be safe," Divad tells Past David. "And— Being able to make choices— It doesn't feel safe."

"No," Past David agrees.

"Farouk taught us that," Divad says. "All the— Painful, impossible choices he gave us. And no matter what we chose, we were wrong."

Past David gives a sad nod.

"But Farouk isn't the one who gave you this choice," Divad continues. "It's not one of his games. Choosing to share or— To protect yourself— Neither of those is wrong."

"But sharing hurt you," Past David says, voice trembling. "How can I choose to hurt you?"

"And I never shared my thoughts with you and Dvd," Divad says. "That hurt our system, too."

"So they're both wrong," Past David says.

"No," Divad says. "What was wrong was— The shame. You felt too ashamed to protect yourself. And— I felt too ashamed to open up." He shakes his head. "But we don't have to feel ashamed anymore."

"I don't know how," Past David says.

"That's okay," Divad says. "We're all learning how to do that together. We want you to learn with us. So we can all be okay and— Even happy." He musters a smile. "Sharing your thoughts would make you happy now, right?"

Past David gives a reluctant nod.

"It would make me happy, too," Divad says. "And if— One of us feels like— Sharing is too much— Then all we have to do is stop. Let our shields go back up. And that's okay, too." He pauses, then adds: "I bet your rational mind agrees with me."

“Maybe,” Past David says, and then lets out a sigh. He closes his eyes and concentrates and— 'Can they hear me?'

Divad breaks into a smile. "We hear you. I hear you, David."

Past David gives a small, wobbly smile back, and Divad hugs him. Past David makes a soft sound of surprise, and then relaxes into the hug.

"And how about you?" Melanie asks the youngest David. "Would you like to share your thoughts?"

The youngest David gives a small shake of his head.

"That's okay," Melanie soothes. "Is there something you'd like to do? Something that would help you feel better?"

The youngest David doesn't answer her. David looks at this young part of himself, who he only briefly remembered being. The youngest David looks so unhappy, he's tense and afraid. What was it Amy said? When David was a child, he was— The most difficult, stubborn little brother in the world. Because he was terrified all the time, because there was a monster inside him and no one believed him, no one helped him. Even with his headmates, he was still so alone. And he kept all of it secret because telling the truth only made everything worse.

That's what the youngest David is. All that pain, all that fear and loneliness, from the perspective of a child. Past David's memories were too much for David to carry, but that childhood pain was too much for Past David to carry, too. It feels cruel for the youngest David to even exist, but— It's like the fragments who fused with Amahl. The painful parts are just as important as the rest of his system. They all need to be helped to heal.

"It's hard to feel better when you don't feel safe," David says, gently. "And— Nothing feels safe right now. Everything's been really— Scary and confusing. And—" He glances at the incongruous bedroom wallpaper. "Even the one safe place we had, the one place the monster couldn't go—" He glances at Amahl, standing quiet and apart from them. "That doesn't feel safe anymore."

The youngest David looks at him with big, sad eyes. He gives a small nod.

"Do you want our bedroom back?" David asks.

To his surprise, the youngest David shakes his head.

"Too many bad memories," Past David says. "It was never really safe, it was just— All we had."

"Okay," David says, thinking. "Then— Someplace new. That feels safe and protected. Would you like that?"

The youngest David hesitates, then nods.

"Something in nature?" David offers. "A garden?"

"No," Past David says, firmly. "More bad memories. Nothing— Familiar."

"Safe but not familiar," Divad says, considering.

"Something away from people," Dvd adds. "People upset you."

"Everything upset me," Past David admits. "I used to stare at our rocket lamp and— Imagine it was carrying me away. Space is supposed to be— So quiet. No sound, no people. No atmosphere to block the stars." There's longing in his eyes, and he sighs. "But that's how it felt sometimes, in college. The world felt so far away." He wraps his arms around himself.

"Then maybe— Something that's in space, but not headed away," Syd offers. "Orbiting, like— A satellite, or— A space station."

The youngest David's eyes light up.

"A space station sounds wonderful," Melanie says, warmly. "How about you take that crayon of yours and draw an airlock over there?" She points at an empty stretch of wall. "Your space station will be right on the other side. And it'll be easy to come back through the airlock whenever you want. How does that sound?"

The youngest David looks up at David, then slides off the bed and goes over to the wall. He draws a big crayon circle for the airlock door and then starts filling in the details.

Melanie watches him draw, and then turns back to the group. "This will be good for him," she tells them. "He needs safety, privacy— But don't let him feel alone. Your system needed— Someone who truly understood you, growing up. Who could respond to your needs and protect you. You have the chance to be that person now, for him."

"We want to be," Divad says.

"We will be," Dvd says, determined.

Syd walks over to the youngest David and watches him draw. "That's a great airlock. You must know a lot about space."

The youngest David nods, but keeps his eyes on his drawing. "My dad's an astronomer. We watch the stars together."

Syd glances back to David, uncertain, but forges on. "That sounds really nice. Maybe we can watch the stars together. How many stars can you see from space?"

"Thousands," the youngest David says, sagely. "Maybe millions."

"I've never seen that many stars," Syd laments. "I grew up in the city. You can barely see any stars there."

"Light pollution," the youngest David says, with a too-adult sigh. Like he's copying something someone else said.

'Dad always said that,' Past David thinks, fond but sad. 'Is he really dead?'

'I'm sorry,' David thinks to him.

Past David's chin crumples, and David can feel his grief. It's still so fresh, so new and sharp. David felt that same grief himself, years ago, but blunted by memory loss. He didn't remember his father well enough to fully grieve him. Farouk took so much, so unbearably much.

David reaches out to Past David and holds him, comforts him. Feels his grief secondhand. It has to be enough, for now. But one day, he hopes, when they're both ready—

"You still want me back?" Past David asks, surprised out of his grief.

"Of course I do," David says, heartfelt. "I tried to hold on to you, but— Dvd was right. We’re not ready."

Past David pulls back, wipes at his eyes. "I'm sorry I forced you to fuse. I just—" He cuts off, but his eyes say it all.

"I know," David soothes. "I forgive you, okay? What happened to us was not our fault. We had to work so hard just to survive what Farouk did to us. Do you know how strong you are, to have survived all that? David, you're so strong." He smiles. "You're strong enough to heal. We both are."

Past David's chin crumples again, and David holds him again as he cries. But this time— They're tears of relief, of hope. Hope hurts so much, but they need it. They need it more than anything.

Across the room, the youngest David finishes drawing the airlock. The purple crayon lines shift and change, and then— There's a heavy steel door sticking out of the wall. The youngest David grabs the wheel and turns it, and there's a hiss of air as the lock opens. The door swings out, revealing a small industrial room.

"Is this the airlock?" Syd asks.

The youngest David nods. "The station's on the other side. The airlock keeps it safe."

"Safety's very important," Syd agrees. "Do you want to go inside?"

The youngest David starts for the door, then hesitates. He looks back at his headmates, needing but wary. He looks at Oliver and Melanie, looks at Syd.

"Would you like company?" Melanie asks him. "We'd all love to see your space station."

The youngest David gives a small nod, but— He's uncertain, unhappy.

"How about just one person?" Melanie offers. "One of your headmates?"

The youngest David looks at Dvd and Divad, at David and Past David. But that just makes him more upset.

Melanie walks up to the youngest David and kneels down on the floor. "That's okay. Sometimes— We need to be away from our family, for a while. But we don't want to be alone. That's what friends are for. Could— Me and Syd be your friends?"

"I'd like that," Syd says, with her little smile. "We can sit together and watch the stars."

"Okay," the youngest David says, and he takes Syd's hand and leads her into the airlock with him.

"I'll be right there," Melanie tells them, and walks back to the others. "Don't worry," she says, quietly. "We'll help him feel calm and safe, see if we can get him to open up a little. With traumatized children, even alters— We have to be patient, help them heal at their own pace."

"Thank you," Divad says. "I just— Don't want him to be afraid of us."

"I don't think he is," Melanie says. "But he's carrying so much pain. And his creation was— Deeply traumatic. Did he see Farouk's physical death?"

"We all did," Dvd says.

"Then I'm not surprised he feels so completely overwhelmed," Melanie says. "The safest place for him to be right now is his inner world. Once Farouk is gone, and things calm down—"

"Amy," Past David says. "He needs Amy."

"Then let's get her back," Oliver says.

"I'm ready to help," Amahl says, stepping closer. "I want to stop him."

"Wonderful," Oliver says. "Then I believe we have everything we need."

Melanie turns to Oliver. "Stop him. And then come right back."

"My perfect beauty of a sunflower," Oliver says, half-reciting, then he sobers. "We've lost too much time already."

"You'll make it up to me," Melanie promises. She reaches for Oliver, and they hug each other close for a long moment, and then— They kiss, and breathe each other's air.

David looks over at Syd, and she's already inside the airlock with the youngest David. But she sees him looking, and they share a wordless moment. And for all that they have to face— David doesn't feel afraid.

With a sigh, Melanie breaks away from Oliver. "Come back," she says again, and heads over to the airlock. She climbs inside, and closes the door behind her, turning the wheel to lock it.

"We need a plan," Divad says.

"The plan is we go out there and kick his ass," Dvd says, impatient.

"Farouk's got hostages," Divad reminds him. "He's gonna use them to hurt us. Who knows what kind of fucked up mind games he's planning?"

"Yeah, it's a trap," Dvd says, unimpressed. "So what? We're stronger than him."

"We've always been stronger than him," Divad says. "We have to out-think him, like— Like Oliver and Syd."

"That plan depended on the element of surprise," Oliver says. "Farouk will be on his guard now, even more than before. And the current situation presents— Different challenges. The astral plane is a vast web of billions of subconscious minds, an endless landscape of dreams and make-believe."

"A bunch of hills and an ice cube," Dvd mutters, unimpressed.

"That was one small part of it," Oliver says. "With his body destroyed, Farouk is, at last, free to dance in a cosmic field of multidimensions with no outer limits to speak of."

"So what does that mean?" Divad asks. "Will he have detachment syndrome again?"

"And what about Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy?" David asks.

"It takes time for the soul to lose integrity," Oliver says. "Even for those without mutant powers. If we rescue them soon, they should be fine."

"And Farouk?" Divad presses.

Oliver considers. "On the astral plane, reality is a matter of will. And Farouk's will is quite strong— Strong enough to survive thirty years as a parasitic soul largely intact."

"We beat him before," Amahl says, finally joining the group. "In mental battle."

"'We'?" Dvd challenges. "You're not part of us."

"Yes, he is," David says, firmly. "Farouk made all of us forget so much, but Amahl has those memories. Not from our perspectives but— He knows what Farouk didn't want us to know."

"Farouk put him in our head," Dvd counters. "He's just another trick, a bunch of fake memories." Then he falters, gives David an apologetic glance.

"A valid concern," Oliver says. "So let's discuss it. Farouk copied a set of memories into your system in order to create Joonam."

"His son," Past David says, with a hint of longing.

"The year Farouk was inside me," Oliver says. "Hazy though it might be, one thing was very clear. Farouk is deeply attached to your system."

"He wants us, but he doesn't know how he wants us," Amahl admits. "To become us, to crush us? To be our father, our lover? Er ist in einem Zustand geistiger Verwirrung. Mental confusion."

"So what?" Dvd says.

"Farouk put a lot of work into Joonam," Divad says, thinking. "He wanted Joonam to give him— Everything he wants. Right? So if Amahl was Joonam's foundation— Why make him fake?"

"Farouk wanted us to be like him," Amahl says. "He wanted— A David who would love him as he loves himself. That would share his Weltanschauung."

"A David who thinks like Farouk," Divad says. "Fake memories wouldn't do that."

Dvd gives an annoyed huff. "Fine, he's got a lot of real, shitty memories."

"Then believe me when I tell you, we have beat him before," Amahl says. "And he does not take defeat lightly. Many of his cruelties— Were designed to sabotage us. To prevent more defeats."

"Dvd, you said we killed King," David says. "Amahl says you were right."

"I was?" Dvd says, surprised. Then he rallies. "I mean, of course I was!"

"How?" Divad asks. "King was just a mask."

"We decide what is real and what is not," Amahl says. "Our will. A mental battle is— A wrestling match, a dance. Minds grappling against each other, seeking advantage. We overpowered him, and in that moment—" He shakes his head. "I don't know exactly what we did. Farouk doesn't know. But from that moment on— When he tried to be King, fear would consume him, paralyze him. The mask was beyond his reach."

"That sounds like— Trauma," Divad says. He shakes his head, disbelieving. "You're saying— We traumatized Farouk?"

"I don't wanna scare him, I wanna kill him," Dvd says.

"But he did become King again," Divad points out. "When he was in control, when he took Amy to our Dad's house."

"Perhaps he overcame the trauma?" Oliver offers. "It was decades later."

"Maybe," Divad says. "Amahl, how did we defeat him?"

"We defeated him when we acted as one," Amahl says. "Not fused like Joonam, but— Synchrone."

"When we shared?" Divad asks. "But we always shared."

"At first," Amahl says. "And then— We hurt each other, the way Farouk hurt us. Our system became— Dysfunctional. Full of fear and anger and shame."

"That's what the Admiral saw, in his simulations," Oliver says. "Farouk uses those as his weapons. Therefore, your system's strength must lie in its harmony. Ptonomy asked me to help make the song of your mind— Something beautiful."

"You think beauty's gonna stop Farouk?" Dvd asks, skeptical. "And how the hell are we supposed to be 'harmonious' with him in our head?" He gestures at Amahl.

"Or me," Past David says, unhappily. "I can't help you fight him, I'll just— Make things worse."

"That's what Farouk wanted you to believe," David tells him. "But even as a baby, you defeated him. You trapped him. You did that, David."

"That was before," Past David says. "Everything about me that was strong and good— All of that is Dvd and Divad. You know what's left? David is left. David is weak and stupid and only good for one thing." His voice cracks and he looks away.

"David," David says, softly. "Do you think— I'd want you back— If I thought that was true?"

Past David sniffs and turns back, but his eyes are bleak.

"You're scared," David says, understanding. "That's okay. Farouk's been hurting us our whole life. Stopping him must feel— Impossible. Maybe even wrong."

Past David gives a small nod.

"He was always there," David continues, fighting the tightness in his throat. "And in a better world— Someone saved us but—" He takes a shaky breath. "We can save each other now. We can make the pain stop. Not like Joonam, not because the pain feels good, but— By loving each other and facing Farouk together and saying— No. We're gonna say no together and it's gonna feel amazing, okay?"

"What if I can't?" Past David asks, tears in his eyes.

"Of course you can," David says, certain. "We already did. And the fun thing about saying no? The more you say it, the better it feels. C'mon, give it a try. What are you gonna tell Farouk?"

Past David swallows, nervous. He licks his lips, swallows again. "No," he forces out, barely a whisper.

"Dvd, what are you gonna tell Farouk?" David prompts.

"Hell no," Dvd says, certain.

"Divad?" David prompts.

"No," Divad says, firmly.

"Amahl?" David prompts.

Amahl sighs, gathers himself. "Nein."

David smiles, already feeling lighter. "Wanna try again?" he asks Past David.

Past David stares at him, working up his courage. "No," he says, more than a whisper now.

"C'mon, louder," David encourages.

"No!" Past David says, loudly, and then looks away, overcome. But he turns back again, with more resolve. "No!" he says, loud and clear.

David pulls Past David into a hug. "I'm so proud of you."

Past David holds David back, and sobs, but David can feel his relief and even— A spark of joyful hope.

"Let's go stop him," Past David says.

Chapter 198: Night: His rational mind knows the truth. (Past David)

Chapter Text

When Farouk escaped, taking Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy with him— He left behind a trail. An invitation for them to meet him on the astral plane, to walk right into his next trap.

They're walking into it now, and David knows it's going to be bad. Whatever it is, it's going to be awful, because it's always awful. It's always torture.

Trying to stop Amahl— It's a mistake. The monster can't be stopped, he could never be stopped. And when they fail, when the monster wins—

The monster won't win, his rational mind thinks back. They're going to say no. They're going to stop Farouk, they're going to save their system by saying no together. They're stronger than him. It’s all going to be okay.

David is terrified, but— He wants to believe his rational mind. He wants to.

When they were Joonam— They were whole. A single, unified mind, for the first time in decades. Being whole was supposed to fix everything, it was supposed to protect them, it was supposed to make them happy.

It didn't. And when they realized that, when they fell apart— They changed. His rational mind thinks that— They had to change. They'd already changed from who they were. They had to let go of the way they used to work and become— What they need to be now.

That's how they ended up together. When his rational mind stopped being Joonam— He did something no fragment in their system has ever done. He chose to be David again.

It must have been a mistake. That’s what David does, he makes mistakes, screws things up. And when everything goes wrong again, his rational mind will do what every fragment has always done, and stop being David again.

Maybe he'll be Divad again. David remembers that now, he shares the memories that are part of his rational mind. He remembers coming into existence to help the other David, and he remembers fusing with Divad.

He remembers other things, too. He remembers feeling the other David's triumph as their system was finally freed from the monster. The other David's exhilaration, his love for Syd, and Divad's overwhelming relief— And then their confusion and pain when Future Syd took them.

He remembers their devastation as they went back to Farouk, back to the monster, because— They had to take him back to save the world.

A memory of his own year with Amahl flashes back to him. He remembers agreeing to help Amahl save the world, to take away everyone’s pain, even though— Pain was all David had left. Looking back now, it was—

He was beyond hope, then. Hope was just another torture, a way the monster hurt him over and over and— If pain was all he was, and Amahl could take away his pain—

That whole year, that whole dream of a year Farouk created for them— It was Farouk slowly killing David, erasing every aspect of his existence, and David— Letting it happen. Welcoming it. He wasn’t allowed to kill himself, but he could let Amahl do it for him. He could let Amahl hollow him out and fill him up until David was gone and there was only Joonam.

David pushes all that away and focuses back on his rational mind, on the new memories it brought him. He remembers helping the other David and everything going wrong, just like it always did. He remembers Divad’s anger, David's shame and suffering, and all of that—

It's comfortingly familiar. So many things had changed since college, and yet somehow— Everything was still the same. Even Ptonomy’s therapy was the same. People have always hurt them in the name of helping them, always.

Always.

And yet— Everything was different. The therapy— Actually started to help, not just David but their whole system. They were given so many new and— Healthy ideas. The foundation work. Forgiveness. Compassion and—

They were understood. After decades of no one ever believing them, decades of hiding the truth, decades of the monster’s poisonous lies— They were understood and believed and— Helped. Not the wrong help the monster let them have. The help they actually needed.

When David woke up in Cary’s lab, bloody and terrified— When he met the other David and saw how much better he was, how much he’d healed—

That kind of healing felt impossible. Not something David could ever have for himself, not without giving up everything he was. Because all that was left of him was pain.

But now he remembers it for himself, because part of him was part of that healing. Divad and his rational mind healed. They were part of the other David’s healing, of Dvd’s healing. Of Amy and everyone else’s healing.

And now— His rational mind believes David can heal, too.

'You can,' Divad thinks to him, and David startles from his thoughts. He looks to see Divad a kind of-- Sad, happy smile.

And then he looks past Divad and sees-- Low, rocky hills in every direction, with no trees or plants or water. The sky is a murky haze, barely letting through an eerie light that suffuses everything. There's no ground beneath his feet, just a solid blackness, densely scattered with little green lights that swirl and flow like a river. Some of the lights float up, freed from the river, and drift into the sky.

'The vast subconscious,' the other David thinks.

'A bunch of hills and an ice cube,' Dvd thinks, dismissive. 'Minus the ice cube.'

'It's kinda— Beautiful,' the other David admits. He reaches out and tries to catch one of the little green lights, but it floats through his hand.

'Stay focused,' Divad warns. 'Where does Farouk's trail go?'

'This is it,' the other David thinks. 'This is where he wants us.'

David hates this. It's the Club all over again and he hates it.

'We're gonna stop him,' Divad soothes.

'We're ready for him,' Dvd thinks, determined. "Hey! Shit beetle! We're here! Stop hiding so we can kick your ass!"

Nothing. The eerie landscape is quiet, the swirling green lights soundless, the whole space strangely echoey and muffled. And then--

Someone crying in the distance.

All of them tense.

'We have to be ready for anything,' Divad thinks.

'Let's do this,' Dvd thinks. He heads towards the crying, determined, and the rest of them follow. The crying gets clearer as they approach. It's a woman. No, it's--

"Amy?" David calls. He hurries forward, urgent. "Amy!"

There she is, sitting, half-obscured by the river of lights. She's alone. She looks up. "David!" she sobs, relieved, and struggles to her feet. "David, thank god!"

David hesitates. He knows now that the real Amy isn't the monster, but-- He doesn't know that this is the real Amy. And the memory of the fake Amy's rejection is still so fresh and painful--

 

But the other David doesn't have that memory. He rushes to Amy and and pulls her into his arms, holds her close. The wave of relief the other David feels is intense, but all David feels is dread.

"You're okay?" the other David asks her. "What happened, where's Farouk?"

"I don't know," Amy says, her voice shaky. "He just left me here and-- I thought--"

David hushes her. "It's okay. I got you." 'She's okay, she's here.' "I was so worried."

'David,' Divad cautions. 'Let go of Amy and step back.'

'It's a trick,' Dvd thinks, certain.

'I don't want it to be a trick,' the other David thinks. 'I want to get Amy home and back in a real body and for this nightmare to be over. It could still be her,' he thinks to them, half-pleading, even as his relief sours. And then he feels the same dread David feels.

The other David forces himself to let her go, to step back. Dvd and Divad close in, protective.

"David?" Amy says, confused, hurt.

"Liar," Dvd sneers.

"I'm not--" Amy starts, and shakes her head. "Please, this place-- The detachment syndrome-- I'm losing myself again." Tears run down her face. She reaches for him and he pulls away. "David, please."

"Stop it!" David yells, upset. "Stop pretending to be her, we know it's you!" Then he softens. "Amahl, please."

Amy stares at David, hurt and scared and then-- She calms, wipes the tears from her face. Her expression shifts, her posture. She still looks like Amy, but everything about her--

"Farouk," the other David says, voice low with anger. David can feel his humiliation and shame. 'I'm such an idiot, it was so obvious,' the other David thinks. 'Farouk knew I'd believe it. He always knows and I always-- It's inevitable, simple action and reaction.'

Farouk steps towards David, but Dvd gets between them. "Back off, asshole. Where's Amy?"

"Right here," Farouk says, spreading Amy's arms. His smug smile is wrong on Amy's face.

"You're wearing her," Divad realizes. 'She's his mask, like Lenny was. A human shield.' "Where's Ptonomy and Lenny?"

Farouk ignores the question, focused on David. David suddenly realizes-- The last time they were together like this, David as himself and the real Farouk-- It was in the dream lab. Amahl had just-- Had sex with him-- While pretending to be Syd. And he promised-- They would be together, a family, and David wanted that so much.

And all of it was just-- Lies. More torture and tricks. Just like he tried to trick them now, wearing Amy's face again. What's the point? Why does he want to keep them if it's just to hurt them?

David looks to Farouk, trying to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

Farouk tries to step closer, but Dvd stands firmly between them and bares his teeth in warning.

"You want to see my face?" Farouk asks David. "To see me as I truly am? If only I could. Your system would hurt me, take me away from you. Again."

"Let Amy go," the other David warns.

"Or what?" Farouk mocks. "You'll kill me? You destroyed my body. I do what I must to survive. Is self-defense now a crime?"

"You never had to do any of this," Divad says, an edge of anger trembling his voice.

"I loved you," David says, more than trembling. "You-- I trusted you and you tortured me and brainwashed me and--" He swallows, his face wet with tears. He hugs himself. "I just want to know-- Why."

"We know why," the other David says, flatly. "Revenge."

Farouk makes a tutting sound. "I shared my memories with you, and still you understand nothing." He turns to the other David with a smirk. "But that's my fault. When I created you, I made you very stupid."

The other David freezes, and David can feel his horror and revulsion, can feel it overwhelming the other David. Divad reaches out to the other David, urgent, and steadies him, shares his love with him to soothe him.

'We've lost things we'll never get back,' Divad thinks to him. 'But we're here and we're not alone.'

And the other David starts to recover. 'Not alone,' he echoes back.

That horror-- It's the same. It's always been the same. But Divad helping, soothing the other David with love and support--

"And where is my counterpart?" Farouk asks, curious.

"We took care of him," Dvd says. "Same way we're gonna take care of you."

"Such a shame," Farouk says, shaking his head. "But he was weak. A failure. He made Joonam a failure."

"No," David whispers, needing to take the blame. "It was my fault."

"No," Farouk says, with awful kindness. "I made you exactly what I needed you to be."

David feels the same horror and revulsion that the other David felt. But it doesn't overwhelm him. Instead he feels-- Relieved. Glad that-- He can still make Amahl happy, be what he wants. The craving to-- Give himself over-- Even his rational mind can't stop it.

"They failed us," Farouk continues. "Your system. I thought we could save them, heal them, but no. Joonam should only have been us."

"Joonam was bullshit," Dvd sneers. "Fuck Joonam and fuck you. You ripped David in half. And when we got you out of our head, you used the half you stole to crawl back in. You didn't make them, you didn't do shit."

'He didn't make me,' the other David thinks, relieved and certain. "You didn't make us," he says, facing Farouk. "You took us away from our system and lied to us, tricked us into trusting you so we'd give you our powers. You don't love us, you never loved us."

And then in a blink, Amy is gone, and Farouk is wearing Ptonomy as his mask. "Jealousy is so unbecoming," he sighs. And then he turns away from the other David and back to David. Steps close to him again, blocked only by Dvd's stubborn defiance.

"You're the part of David that I always treasured," Farouk tells David. "I took you away from your system because it was what you needed. To rest inside me, to sleep. I protected you. Because I love you. I loved you from the first moment I held you in my arms. You were my beautiful boy, my baby. My son. I have always given you what you needed."

"No," David protests, but weakly. He knows Farouk is saying those things because it's what David needs to hear, but-- He needs to hear it so much.

"I became King for you," Farouk continues. "A dog who lives only to please his master. You held me in your arms and adored me. I guarded you as you slept. Did you not feel that same love in our dream, as you slept in my arms?"

David's heart aches with need, and he slips his hand over it. I'm safe with Amahl, he thinks, and mourns that it's a lie.

"It was a trick," he says, because he has to. But he doesn't want to believe that, he doesn't want to. He wants to be safe with Amahl.

"No," Amahl says. "I admit I have been-- Angry. Cruel. But love can make us do cruel things. To hold you in my arms, night after night. To feel your heart beating against my chest. Fresh water after years in the desert."

"Amahl," David whispers, desperate to believe him. Maybe this time, after everything, maybe--

"Bullshit," Dvd snarls.

Farouk turns to Dvd, and then with a gesture shoves him away.

"Hey!" Dvd shouts, livid, and charges back. He grabs Farouk by his suit and glares into Ptonomy's face, ready to attack.

"Dvd, stop," David pleads, reaching between them.

"I can't let him hurt you," Dvd says.

"I know," David says, and he's caught by a wave of grief. No matter how much he needs to believe Amahl-- His rational mind knows the truth. "I know he's lying, I just-- Let him go."

Dvd's grip on Farouk tightens, but then he shoves him in disgust. "I'm watching you," he warns, but reluctantly steps back.

Farouk smoothes the rumples from his suit. David looks at him and-- He can see them now, beneath Ptonomy's face. Farouk and Amahl and the monster and-- And King. All the masks the monster ever wore. Underneath all those masks-- Amahl Farouk is just a man. Just a person who-- Who chose to invade a helpless baby and torture it for decades. And it's sick. It's sick what he did, what he chose to do and keeps choosing to do day after day after day.

What Farouk did to him, what he keeps doing to him-- It's not a mistake or an accident. It's not a just punishment, it's not about what David deserves. Whatever Farouk says, even if he believes what he says in the moment-- The truth is that Amahl Farouk--

"Tell me how much you love me?" David asks him, grieving but-- Calm.

Farouk falters, surprised, but-- Quickly takes it in stride. He closes the distance between them and cups Ptonomy's hand to David's cheek. David gives a soft moan and leans against his palm. When Amahl is soft with him, gentle-- When the monster forgives him-- It feels so good, it always has.

"We used to-- Run around all day," David says, his voice tight with emotion. "When I cried, you'd lick my face until I smiled again." He gives a sad smile. "I loved you so much, King. So much."

David can feel his system's frustration with his words, their disgust and anger about King. He understands it, but-- He needs this. He needs it.

"I felt safe with King," David continues. "I wanted to feel safe with Amahl. I wanted it so much--" He breaks off, pained. If any of those countless lies had just been true--

"Pet and master," Farouk says, softly. "Patient and doctor. Sun and moon."

"Son and father," David adds. "Victim and monster." He gives a bitter laugh.

Farouk slides his hand down to David's chest, resting over his heart. Then he reaches down and takes David's arms, inspects his faded scars. Caresses them, like he did day after day after day, all to help him heal.

David's face crumples with grief.

"Shh," Farouk hushes. He strokes the scars again, again. And then he leans forward and tastes David's tears-- And David flinches back, pulls away.

"You'll never change," David says, and his heart feels full of-- Glass shards, slicing him open from the inside. "Even if you really love me-- You don't know how to love someone without-- Eating them. What do you want from me? To help you rule the world? I don't want it! I don't want to be a god!"

"We are gods," Farouk declares.

"I tried to be what you wanted," David says, through his tears. "I tried to be Joonam but-- That wasn't enough for you!"

"Your suffering is beautiful," Farouk says, like it matters, like-- He actually needs David to understand that.

"I don't want it!" David says, exploding with anger, with power. He blasts Farouk off his feet, sends him flying. He wants Amahl to love him but all Amahl loves is his pain and he doesn't want it!

"Ptonomy!" Divad gasps.

"I don't want it! I don't want it!" David screams, and launches himself at Farouk again-- But Dvd stops him, catches him. "Let me go!" he howls. And then he falls apart, cries and wails.

"Shh, it's okay," Dvd soothes. "Let it out."

Breaking down, being held and soothed like this-- All David can think about is Amahl holding him in the hospital, Amahl soothing him-- And it makes him sick, he needs it and it makes him sick and he's so angry-- He needs to get away but he needs Dvd's comfort but he needs-- And it's too much, it's too much, and he collapses in Dvd's embrace, wracked with tears.

"David," Dvd says, soft with grief.

And then Divad is there, too, holding both of them. And through everything, David can feel Divad's love for him, Divad's love for Dvd. And it's strange and new, feeling all of it. The pain is the same, it's always been the same, but-- Divad's love--

It's different. And David's rational mind knows-- What was done to him, taken from him-- None of that can be undone. But his system is here with him and they-- They love him.

'We're here,' Divad thinks to them.

'We're both here,' Dvd thinks. 'We love you so much.'

They love him. Not his pain. They love him. And if they love each other and work together--

David hesitates.

'You can do it,' Divad thinks to him.

'We love you,' Dvd thinks again, fiercely.

If they-- Love each other and work together-- Then maybe-- Maybe they can stop the pain. Maybe they can--

They can say no together. He believes it. Not just his rational mind, all of him believes it.

Dvd and Divad answer him with love so strong it takes David's breath away.

Chapter 199: Night: The world screams and I am its god. (David)

Chapter Text

"I don't want it!" Past David says, exploding with anger, with power. He blasts Farouk off his feet, sends him flying.

"Ptonomy!" Divad gasps.

"I don't want it! I don't want it!" Past David screams, and launches himself at Farouk again-- But Dvd stops him, catches him. "Let me go!" he howls. And then he falls apart, cries and wails.

"Shh, it's okay," Dvd soothes. "Let it out."

Divad starts towards Dvd and Past David, then towards Farouk, then hesitates again and looks back at David.

"I'm okay," David assures him. "Go help them. I'll deal with Farouk."

Divad rushes over and holds Past David with Dvd. David can hear their soft thoughts of reassurance, can feel the love they're sharing with Past David. It helps David, too, and buoys him as he walks over to Farouk.

Despite their concerns about his human shields, Farouk is little more than bruised. But emotionally--

David can see that he's hurt. He wishes it was more satisfying. He's reminded, strikingly, of the Amahl alter. Of Amahl vulnerable, confessing Farouk's feelings, Farouk's pain. Farouk's attachment to David and the unbearable suffering he felt when David was missing.

David knows that Farouk isn't going to change. He knows that. But he knew there was no hope for himself too, not long ago, and he was wrong. And he wonders if maybe, just maybe-- This doesn't have to end with death.

"Farouk," David sighs. "Amahl."

Farouk looks up at him, and the wounded need in him is disturbingly bare.

"You really do love me," David realizes. "Or-- Past me."

Farouk looks over at Past David, held in Dvd and Divad's embrace. Even though Farouk's wearing Ptonomy as a mask, in this moment-- He's not hiding how he feels. His longing, his grief and anger. It's so much. It must hurt so much.

"You have to let him go," David says.

"Can the moon escape the sun?" Farouk asks, giving David another flash of memory. The Amahl alter said the same words. Because they're the same person, mostly.

"When you were trapped inside me," David starts, hoping against hope. "You could have saved yourself. If you'd reached out, asked for help. It's not too late."

Farouk looks up at him, and the bare emotion vanishes. He stands and smoothes out his suit.

"You think this is about love?" Farouk asks, mocking. "Love is electrons, signals sent this way and that. Love is the great delusion afflicting the ants. The only thing that matters is power." He takes a step closer. "And I will have your power."

Suddenly, Ptonomy's hands are wrapped around David's throat. Farouk stares at him with Ptonomy's face, grinning, his eyes wide with malicious glee. David gasps for air and struggles desperately to pry Farouk's hands away, but Farouk is pouring everything he has into strangling him. He's completely focused.

'Now,' David thinks. And then Ptonomy's face starts to pull away, and Farouk's real face peeks out from underneath.

David stumbles back as Farouk's grip loosens with shock. Farouk turns and finds Oliver has a grip on Ptonomy's soul, that he's pulling it free.

Farouk yanks Ptonomy back and grabs Oliver by the neck. Oliver's eyes go wide with fear.

"You think you can play that old song?" Farouk says, cold with fury. Ptonomy is gone and Farouk is wearing Lenny now. "Fool me twice, shame on you." He looks around. "Now where is she? Come out, come out, wherever you are," he sing-songs.

When Syd doesn't appear, Farouk gives an annoyed huff. "Fine. I'll find her myself."

David exchanges a worried glance with his headmates. Syd and Melanie's minds are in his inner world, helping the youngest David, and Dvd is keeping their whole system safe from another invasion. But Syd and Melanie's bodies-- David glances back at the physical world and sees their empty bodies resting in infirmary beds. Oliver's is there too, and the Admiral is being tended to by Doctor Orwell's team.

"Empty," Farouk says, curious, having obviously seen the same thing. Then he smirks, turns to the Davids with Oliver's neck still in his grip. "Hiding your girlfriend's soul? I'm gonna do so many things to her." He gives a dark grin, stretching Lenny's mouth wide. "Where is she?"

"Safe," David says, confident. "Let Oliver go."

"Just like old times, huh?" Farouk says to Oliver, ignoring David. "You, me, the kid, floating around up here. I bet you wish you'd just stayed in that ice cube with your jazz records. Hey, maybe I'll put you back there. A goldfish in a tank, swimming around and around til you can't remember anything. " His smile somehow becomes even more menacing. "When I find the little wife, I'll put her in there too."

Oliver claws at Farouk's hand, but Farouk is far too powerful for him. There's a crackle of ice and then Oliver's whole body covers with white frost, and then he's suddenly sealed in a block of ice. Farouk pats the ice and pushes it away, and the whole block floats in the air. Oliver's eyes are open and moving; he's alive but he's trapped.

David suppresses a shudder. "We're gonna get you out of there," he promises Oliver.

"Why do you care about him so much?" Farouk asks, malice shifting into annoyance. "You wanna make him your new daddy? Sit on his knee? Pathetic."

"Jealous?" Dvd taunts.

Farouk's expression darkens. "An amnesiac who abandoned everyone he loved. He doesn't care about you."

"And you do?" Dvd sneers.

Farouk takes a step closer to David, then another. "Oh, I care," Farouk says, threatening. "I own you. I have always owned you."

"We're not yours," David says. He takes a step back, then another.

"Daddy's here," Farouk sing-songs. "And I'll never leave you."

"We wish you would," Divad mutters. "Please, abandon us. Go to your cosmic fields of multidimensional bullshit and leave us alone."

Farouk stops walking. He spreads out Lenny's arms. "The astral plane. This place is wild, right? Billions of minds, all connected together. Like living in a kaleidoscope. You know what that reminds me of? The mainframe."

David furrows his brow. 'The mainframe?' he thinks to his headmates, confused why Farouk would bring that up, but they're confused, too.

"The Divisions. All their dark secrets," Farouk continues. "They thought they could keep them from me." He tilts Lenny's head. "Wrong!"

David feels a sudden uneasiness, and then realizes-- It's not coming from himself or even his system, but from around them. Another ripple of uneasiness hits them, and then another.

'What did he do?' Divad thinks, with rising fear. 'The mainframe. Farouk shouldn't know what it's like inside the mainframe.' He feels a thrill of horror. 'But Lenny does.'

There's a rumble in the distance from every horizon, ominous and growing. The river of green lights ripples, disturbed. The unease they're feeling becomes-- Dread. And then--

"You thought you could choose them over me?" Farouk mocks. "Make one big happy family?"

"What did you do?" David asks, afraid.

The ground shakes, the mountains tremble. The green lights fly into the air as the wave hits from every direction at once, an explosion of pain and grief and rage. It slams into them like a brick wall, like a bomb inside a tornado. David's knocked almost unconscious, pulled off his feet, up into the storm of shattering emotion-- But then a hand grabs his ankle and doesn't let go. Dazed, he hangs in the wind like a kite on a string, and then slowly, slowly, hands drag him down.

"David!" Dvd cries, voice faint through the rumbling and the wind.

David finds himself lying on the ground next to Past David, who's just as stunned. Dvd and Divad covering them, weighing them down, protecting them.

Telepathy, David thinks, distantly. Dvd and Divad don't have outside telepathy.

"Hurts," David gasps out. So much pain. Not his own, but-- From everywhere. Thousands, millions of minds in horrified shock. David knows that feeling too well. Farouk gave him so many shocks, over and over and--

"Archēgon tēs sōtērias autōn," Farouk declares, his voice ringing out through the storm. "The model of their salvation. The world screams and I am its god."

Farouk appears through the darkness of the storm, and the storm parts for him. His last mask is gone now, and he appears as himself, as Amahl Farouk, and he glows with power like a newborn sun.

With the slightest gesture, Dvd and Divad are knocked away, lost in the night-dark wind. With a clench of his hand, Farouk grabs David and Past David and lifts them up, floats them over. Their feet dangle just above the trembling ground.

"You begged to remember," Farouk tells them. "You begged to be whole. I gave you everything you asked for. My gifts to you, so generous." He drags one finger down his cheek, draws a mocking tear. "And you felt boo-hoo. You threw away my gifts. And for what?" The mocking fades away, revealing true anger. "Together, we would have ruled the world. As father and son, as gods."

"You're not--" Past David gasps, but before he can finish, Farouk gestures again. Agonizing pain shoots through them, silencing them.

"This suffering," Farouk says, gesturing at the storm. "Do you think I caused it? No, this is the work of your precious ants. All over the world, mutants are born, yet no one remembers. Mutants are verhohlen, hidden. How? Their governments, their militaries. Death squads. When mutants appears, they take them, torture them, kill them. And then-- They make everyone forget. Fathers forget their sons. Sons forget their fathers. This is the infinite cruelty of the ants. All to preserve their tiny scraps of power, their little anthills. They kill their gods for a pile of sand."

The Divisions, David realizes. This is what they did, that's-- How they hid their genocide. By making everyone forget the mutants they killed ever existed. But if everyone forgot--

Farouk reaches out, touches Past David's face. Caresses him. Past David feels sick, but leans against his touch anyway, craving it. Like pressing on a bruise, like cutting himself with dull scissors. And then Farouk caresses David's face, and David feels that same need, and it makes him sick.

"Billions of minds, all connected together," Farouk continues. "And what did I find? The memories were still there. Only blocked. And so I took away the blocks. I became the little mouse whispering in their ears. And now they know the truth." He grins. "The executioners face their own judgement."

David's eyes widen in horror as he understands. What happened after the desert, when he blocked Syd's memories and Farouk somehow unblocked them, and then the Divisions put him on trial-- Farouk just did the same thing to the entire world. All those people remembering what was taken from them, remembering their grief and anger--

That's what the storm is. It's the whole world in pain. And Farouk's sudden power-- He's feeding on that pain, just like he's always fed on David's pain.

"You think you killed my body?" Farouk says, a manic glow in his eyes. "You are my body. I am your blood, your bones. Open your mind to me so I may make us whole."

The force holding David and Past David starts to crush them against each other, trying to force them back together. To fuse them. And then Farouk wraps his arms around them, trying to force them into himself.

'No,' David thinks to Past David. 'Fight it. We're what we need to be.'

David can feel Past David's reluctance. He still wants to fuse with David, he still wants to fuse with Farouk and be Joonam.

"Together we will become God," Farouk promises. "We will make the whole world pay."

'No,' David thinks to Past David, pushing back against Farouk's invasion. 'Tell him no!'

'No,' Past David thinks back, with a wave of relief. "No!"

Past David reaches out his mind to David, and in that moment-- They feel the same.

No!

Something resonates between them, a kind of harmony. It feels like— When his system was in the amplification tank and everything opened up.

And suddenly-- It's easy to break Farouk's grip. They shove him away and rise up, hand in hand, and reach into the storm. 'Dvd, Divad. Oliver,' they call. They find Oliver, still frozen in ice, but it's so easy to melt it away.

Farouk picks himself up, blazing with power and fury. And then-- He falters, confused. Stumbles back. There's something wrong with him. And then--

The Amahl alter leaps out of Farouk, and pulls Amy and Ptonomy and Lenny out with him.

'Hurry!' Amahl calls, and both Davids open their arms to catch him. Behind them, Farouk reaches out to grab Lenny and pull them all back--

But he's too late. All four of them fall into the Davids, and the Davids feel them tumble into the white room.

"How--" Farouk gasps, teeth bared with anger and distress. This time seeing him upset does make David feel good, and Past David is both glad and distressed. Their harmony wavers, but doesn't break.

"I made you," Farouk snarls, betrayed. And then he hides it all again, all that fury and pain back behind a mask. "You think you can reject me? I am your God! I am the world's God!"

Farouk reaches out into the whirling storm and hits both Davids with an overwhelming wave of grief and suffering. Their harmony does break then, impossible to sustain, and everything is pain.

"You think you can choose the world?" Farouk mocks. "I am the world. You think you can kill my body? The world is my body, mein Fleisch und meine Knochen. You think you can stop my mind? Ich bin der Geist der Welt."

Another wave of pain hits, and all David can do is sob. He hears Past David sob beside him, but there's so much noise he can't feel him, can't feel anything except grief, grief, acid burning in his chest, in his head.

"'From Great Consciousness vision Harlem 1948 buildings standing in Eternity,'" Farouk recites, suddenly. "'I realized the entire Universe was manifestation of One Mind.' I am the teacher of the world. I must transmit my awareness to all mankind. And when I am done-- I will save you from your suffering."

And then-- He's gone, vanished into the storm.

David struggles against the convulsions of emotion. Past David is lying just a few feet away, wracked with pain. Even with Farouk gone, the pain is growing, unbearable, sheer agony with every nerve and cell electric with fire--

And then suddenly it all stops.

David gasps, reeling, flails at the shock of feeling nothing.

"David!" he hears, a familiar voice. And then another voice: "David, it's okay."

Hands touch him, stop his flailing. His stunned senses begin to recover, and he feels-- Relief, worry, love.

Love.

As the barest tension eases out of him, he cracks open his eyes and sees-- Ptonomy leaning over him. Divad beside him. And beside them, leaning over Past David-- Amy and Dvd.

The white room. They're all in the white room.

"Farouk," David warns, voice hoarse like-- He was screaming. He must have been screaming, but there was so much pain--

"We're safe here," Divad soothes. "Just take it easy."

"The storm," David warns, asks. All that emotion and it's just-- Gone? "You stopped it?"

"We wish," Divad says. "It's still going strong. But it can't reach us here, remember?"

David remembers. The inner world, the one place his headmates could go and-- Cut themselves off from the world, from David's thoughts. A telepathic barrier. A place of complete safety.

He feels another strong wave of relief and love, and looks over to see Dvd hugging Past David, holding him so tight. He feels a pang of his own jealousy, even though he knows-- He doesn't need to feel jealous. Not of either of them.

Whatever parts they are, however many parts there are-- They're a system. They're what they need to be right now, and when they're ready to change-- They'll change together.

Ptonomy, Amy. He looks to them. "You're okay? Lenny, where's--"

"We're okay," Ptonomy says, and David can feel so much relief from him, and gratitude. He feels-- Kinder than he used to, before he lost his body.

"Your body," David realizes. Detachment syndrome. He doesn't have a mainframe or android bodies to protect them with. They're parasitic souls--

"We're okay," Ptonomy says again, with only a twinge of fear. "The Divisions will put us in our new bodies as soon as we get back. But we have to stop Farouk first."

Ptonomy stands up and holds out his hand to David. David takes it, and he's startled by the feel of human flesh instead of cool android skin. Even though Ptonomy is still disembodied-- He feels so much more real.

David wobbles to his feet, still unsteady. And then-- Ptonomy hugs him. David gives a soft huff of surprise, but hugs him back.

'It worked,' Ptonomy thinks. 'We saved him. I saved him.' And David can feel-- Ptonomy forgiving himself. And it surprises David, because he didn't know Ptonomy felt at all guilty about-- Everything that happened. He didn't know Ptonomy would have any reason to feel guilty.

But apparently he did.

As soon as Ptonomy lets him go, Amy pulls David into her arms, holds him so tight.

For a moment, David goes still, remembering when they found Amy on the astral plane. But even though Farouk was inside her, wearing her-- It was still her. He was holding her.

He's holding her now. He breathes in and smells her hair and relief hits him hard. He remembers holding Amy in a Vermillion and in an android. He remembers holding her in the white room, when she was just a voice and a reconstructed memory. And he holds her tighter.

"We're okay," Amy soothes. She's okay, she's here. She's really here, with nothing in the way. He can feel her feelings clearly, her fear and relief and worry and love, so much love. "I was so worried about you."

David gives a sobbing laugh. "I was so worried about you."

He wants to hold her forever. But when he feels ready, he lets her go, looks around the room.

Divad is with Dvd and Past David now, holding both of them. There's the airlock door on the wall that the youngest David made, still closed with Syd and Melanie inside, taking care of that part of himself. The white bed and the astronaut wallpaper around it. And the sitting area beside the sliding glass doors.

Usually the sheer curtains are gently wafting from the outside air, but now they're hanging still. The glass door is shut, and Lenny is standing in front of it, staring into the stormy darkness beyond. Oliver is sitting on a sofa, looking across the room at the airlock, and in the chair opposite him-- Is Amahl. And Amahl is watching Lenny.

The three of them together-- Again David is seized by a memory. Oliver and Lenny and Farouk in the Club. David can't-- Remember it fully, the way he could as Joonam. Amahl is the one who has most of those memories. But David remembers enough. He remembers the feeling of remembering, the violation, the--

It wasn't them. Lenny and Oliver, it wasn't really them in the Club. They were masks, just like Amy. And Amahl isn't Farouk. Amahl is just a piece of his system with a lot of someone else's memories. Memories he used to-- Sneak into Farouk's mind while Oliver played decoy. Find the drawers where Farouk stored Amy and Ptonomy and Lenny and-- Pull them free.

"Lenny," David starts. He can feel her lingering terror, her violation and revulsion. He knows she's not a hugger, but he doesn't know what to say to help her. What she just went through, what they all went through--

"We can kill him now, right?" Lenny says, terse, not turning around.

"Farouk has no more human shields," Oliver agrees. "But I'm afraid we have a bigger problem." He gestures at the storm outside.

David steps up next to Lenny and looks out. He puts his hand on the glass. He can't feel the storm, but he can feel its power, beating furiously against the telepathic barrier.

"He's torturing the entire world," Amahl says.

"Killing him won't stop this," Oliver points out. "The damage is done."

"So we kill Farouk and save the world," Lenny says, with flat impatience. "Anyone got any bright ideas?"

Chapter 200: Night: Charles was a private man. (Oliver)

Chapter Text

"We have to get back out there," Ptonomy says. He's restless, frustration pouring off him in waves. "We don't know what Farouk's doing. We have to stop him."

'Fuck him,' Lenny thinks, sullen and bitter, radiating waves of raw emotional pain. 'Blew out his brains and it's still not enough. Fuck him. Fuck him..' She glares across the room at Amahl, who declines to look back.

Oliver winces as Lenny's anger spikes hard, laced with revulsion and violation. David and Past David wince, too.

They're in quite the pickle. Outside the white room, a terrible storm rages, a storm of overwhelming and familiar grief. Here they're protected from the violent storm of grief pervading the astral plane, but the white room gives them no special means of stopping that storm, or Farouk.

And there's danger in remaining here too long, at least for those outside of David's system. The strength of David's system's soul-- Oliver has no desire to succumb to detachment syndrome again, or to have his mind filled with another's thoughts in a way that overrides his own.

But to leave the white room, to step back into the storm--

"It's not safe out there," Divad says, replying to Ptonomy.

"Only for telepaths," Ptonomy counters. "Me, Lenny, Amy. Send us back to the Admiral's body."

"And do what?" Dvd grumbles. "Mainframe's busted."

Ptonomy gives another frustrated sigh. "We have to get help."

"From who?" Divad asks. "The whole point of-- All the therapy was-- The Divisions can't stop Farouk without us. Maybe no one can. All those calculations, right?"

"There has to be someone else," David says. "Another powerful mutant, like-- Like our birth father."

"No way," Dvd says, immediately angry. "Fuck that asshole, he's not even on this planet!"

"If he left then he can come back," Divad says.

"No," Dvd says, certain.

Divad gives him an exasperated look. "What, scared of meeting him?" He smirks. "You're chicken!" He makes a clucking noise.

From over on the bed, Past David gives a surprised little laugh. Oliver can't hear his thoughts, but he can clearly see Past David's affection for his headmates, his soft nostalgia.

Dvd scowls at Divad. "Fuck you. And-- He's a telepath too, so how's he gonna help?"

"He's got a point," David admits.

"Then we bring him in here," Ptonomy says. "He fought Farouk before, defeated him. He can--"

"He kicked Farouk out of his body," Dvd says. "So what? Farouk's body got its brains blown out, it's done."

"He still has knowledge and resources that can help us stop him for good," Ptonomy says, not backing down. "Oliver, you knew Charles Xavier. Do you remember how you used to contact him?"

"Telepathy," Oliver says. "Which Farouk has effectively made impossible."

"Right," Ptonomy sighs, frowning with thought. "So we need someone-- Who might be able to communicate with Charles without telepathy. Can you think of anyone like that, anyone who was close to him?"

"It has been over twenty years," Oliver says, and feels a sharp pang of regret, and is glad he can feel it. All those people he left behind. How many lives were lost because he lost himself?

"We lost a lot of good people in the war," Ptonomy admits. "But Summerland protected itself. Charles' group must've done the same."

Oliver thinks back. Thankfully those memories are freshly imprinted on his soul, so he can remember even without his body. A novel experience. "Telepathy was always the safest form of communication. Charles and I were part of a-- Mutant underground railroad. We worked to locate mutants, rescue them if necessary, and then get them to a safe place." Familiar grief returns with the memories, anger and pain and loss. He lets himself feel it now, instead of running from it. It feels the same as the storm outside.

He breathes. Tears well in his eyes and he wipes them away.

"But most mutants don't have telepathy," Ptonomy says.

"True," Oliver says, and collects himself. "For that, we used radio technology, and codes." A memory comes to him. "I do recall-- A young man. Technologically-minded Cheyenne. He'd been wounded by a bomb and built himself the most marvellous prosthetics. Charles took him in at the beginning of the war. If he's still alive, perhaps--"

"He wasn't a telepath?" Ptonomy presses.

"No, his mutation was-- Invention. He could create almost any kind of machine, electronics, beyond what was even thought possible at the time. An astonishing talent. Charles was rather enthusiastic about him."

"Okay," Ptonomy says. "So how do we find him?"

"Phone book?" David offers, half-joking. "What's his name?"

"He called himself 'Forge,'" Oliver says. "He wanted to leave his past behind him, focus on his identity as a mutant. A common choice, especially when the Divisions made their families forget them."

"Well, their families remember them now," Ptonomy says. He shakes his head. "So how do we find him?"

"Charles gave me one of Forge's special communicators," Oliver says. "To be used in case of dire emergency. I hid it in Summerland. As long as the building is intact, it should still be there."

"You think it'll still work?" Ptonomy asks.

"Forge was an inventor of extraordinary capability," Oliver says. "I believe if we use it, and he's alive-- He'll hear it."

"Fingers crossed," Ptonomy mutters. He claps his hands together, rubs them. "Okay, new plan. Dvd, you astral project to Summerland. Find the communicator and see if Forge answers. If he does, find him and bring him here."

"Got it," Dvd says, turning focused and serious. He disappears and then suddenly reappears. "Where's the communicator again?"

Divad steps forward. "I'm going too. You're useless without me."

"Am not," Dvd grumbles.

"You have the tact of a drunk elephant," Divad says.

Past David gives another little laugh. Dvd and Divad both notice, and allow each other a brief, fond look.

"Yeah, well you can't even touch anything," Dvd retorts, unwilling to let Divad have the last word.

Oliver concentrates, then holds out his hand. A glowing point of light appears in his palm. "Touch this," he tells them, and after a pause they do. "Now you know where it is." He closes his hand and the light disappears.

"Okay," Divad says, turning focused and serious as well. And then he and Dvd both disappear.

About ten seconds later, Divad reappears. He's grinning, delighted.

"That was quick," Ptonomy says, surprised.

Divad rushes over to David and grabs his arms. "I can touch things! David, you can shield and I can touch things!" He pulls David into a hug and squeezes tight, then lets him go. "I can touch things!" he says again, thrilled, and then disappears again.

David stares at the space where Divad had been, then shakes his head in bewilderment.

"Looks like your new system has a few perks," Amy teases.

"Yeah," David agrees. He looks over at Past David for a long moment, and then turns to Oliver. "It's so weird that you knew our dad." He pauses. "Are you sure that-- I mean-- Did he ever--"

"Charles was a private man," Oliver admits. "Like Forge, there was-- A great deal of pain in his past, and he chose to leave it behind."

David frowns, unhappy. "So-- He really didn't want me. Us."

Oliver notices Past David's matching unhappiness. If there's any chance of them actually finding Charles--

"Come sit down," he tells David, and leads him to the bed. David sits next to Past David, and Oliver faces them. Amy joins them, sitting on the edge of the bed, and Lenny stays where she is but watches them.

"When I first met your father," Oliver begins, remembering it all again for himself as well as them, "It was not long after Melanie, Cary, and I finished making Summerland. I had started to search the astral plane for other mutant minds, other telepaths, and I found him. I thought he would be as happy as I was, but-- He was wary, defensive. At first I didn't understand. And then we met in person. I discovered--"

He pauses, seeing the need in both Davids' eyes. The need to know the truth that's been so long denied them.

"I didn't learn the full story until much later," Oliver cautions. "After Charles and I became close friends, one night-- He showed me his memories. Farouk found him, much the same as I had. Approached him as a friend, invited him to Morocco. But it was a trick. While Charles was in Morocco, Farouk went into the astral plane and-- Psychologically tortured Charles' wife, Gabrielle. Farouk and Charles fought and Charles won, but-- At a terrible cost. Charles was injured, lost the use of his legs."

Both Davids react with horror. Amy moves closer, comforts them.

"Gaby and Charles," Oliver continues. "They met after the War, in a hospital. Both of them had been-- Shell shocked was the term, then. Their love gave them the strength to recover, to leave the hospital and start a family. To have you, David. They loved you very much. But both of them, Gaby especially-- What Farouk did to them was too terrible a blow. Neither of them felt capable of being parents. So Charles brought you to Gaby's brother, Simon."

"My dad?" Amy asks, surprised. "So David's-- My cousin?"

Oliver nods. "Simon and Ruth Haller. They were in America, away from the horrors of the War. They had a young daughter, a perfect older sister for David. They wanted you to grow up safe and happy. They loved you, David, they truly did. It broke their hearts to give you away."

Both Davids have tears in their eyes.

"I remember Dad mentioning Aunt Gaby," Amy says. "But when he did-- It always made him sad. I don't remember what happened to her."

"During the War, Charles was a soldier. Gaby-- Was in the camps," Oliver says, regretful. "She never fully recovered from that." Few did. "After Farouk's attack--"

"He killed her," Past David says, angry and hollow.

"Not directly," Oliver says. "But ultimately-- Yes. Charles felt-- Enormous guilt. After her death-- His sole purpose was to make a better world for mutantkind."

"Then why the hell did he leave the planet?" Lenny asks, annoyed.

"Perhaps we'll be able to ask him that directly," Oliver says, hopeful. "But it might be-- For the same reason I was lost on the astral plane. Grief can be-- An overwhelming force." He looks over at the sliding glass doors, at the furious storm outside. Overwhelming, the whole world overwhelmed with grief.

"So that's what happened," Amahl says, quietly. "He didn't let me have those memories. Any memories, from before I reached David's cradle." He shakes his head, then turns to face them. "Before he did. I know that-- None of those actions are mine. But I also know-- Farouk will never apologize for what he did. So on his behalf-- I'm sorry."

"It wasn't you," David says, still struggling to accept everything Oliver shared.

"But you need me to say it," Amahl says. "It wasn't the Divisions that made our parents give us away. It was Farouk."

"Stop," David says, voice tight with pain and anger. "Please."

Amahl nods and says nothing.

No one says anything. And then--

In a blink, Dvd and Divad are back. And with them is a man with greying hair, fine wrinkles in his brown skin, and a metal right hand and leg.

"Oliver?" Forge says, eyes wide with astonishment. "Oliver Bird, is that really you?"

Oliver stands and walks over to greet him. "It is," he says, with a lightness he doesn't quite feel. Remembering Cary and Kerry and Melanie again-- It was a gradual process, and by the time he remembered what they used to look like, he was already used to how they look now. But Forge--

Twenty years is a long time.

"My god, man, we thought you were dead!" Forge looks Oliver up and down, hardly believing his eyes, and then-- Realizes. "You haven't changed a day."

"We need your help," Oliver says, taking the direct approach.

"You need my help?" Forge says, disbelieving. "We need yours. It's like the end of the world out there. All the telepaths are down for the count." His brow furrows. "What is this place anyway? Some kind of safe house?"

Oliver gives a curious glance at Dvd and Divad.

"We kept it simple," Divad explains.

"Hi," Ptonomy says. He walks up to Forge and offers his hand. "I don't think we've met. Ptonomy Wallace, I work with Melanie Bird."

Forge shakes Ptonomy's hand.

"Here's the situation," Ptonomy continues. "Are you familiar with the name Amahl Farouk?"

Forge frowns with thought. "Sounds a little familiar."

Oliver isn't surprised that Charles never told Forge about his past. It wasn't something he liked to talk about, and only shared it with Oliver in a rare moment of vulnerability.

"He's an old enemy of Charles Xavier," Ptonomy explains. "He was-- Trapped, for thirty years. But now he's back, and he wants revenge, power. He's behind what's happening now and we need your help to stop him."

"Okay," Forge says, already bracing for action. "What do you need?"

"Do you have any way to reach Charles?" Oliver asks. "We're hoping he can give us some advice."

"Wish I could," Forge says. "He's off-planet, way out of my range. But even if we could reach him-- Telepaths are pretty useless right now."

"Yes, we're trying to find a way around that," Oliver says. "Farouk has created a-- Psychic storm."

"Yeah, but how?" Forge asks. "Everything's so crazy out there, we're still trying to figure out what's going on."

"The Divisions," Ptonomy says. "Farouk found out how they've been making everyone forget about mutants all this time. Turns out the memories were still there, only blocked. Farouk unblocked them."

"He what?" Forge says, stunned. "Even Charles couldn't figure that out." Oliver feels a wave of old pain from Forge. "My own family doesn't remember me, my own tribe. And you're telling me if I go back to them now--" Forge rubs his face, trying to absorb this.

"Everyone remembers now," Oliver says. "They remember the family and friends who were taken from them. This psychic storm is-- Decades of grief and loss, raw and overwhelming."

"No wonder the telepaths are out," Forge says. "You said-- Farouk wants revenge. On the Divisions?"

"Partly," Oliver says. "The situation is-- Complicated. But Farouk has the ability to-- Feed on pain, on negative psychic energy. He made this storm to give himself an enormous power boost."

"We're not sure what he's gonna do with it," Ptonomy admits. "But we know it won't be good. Right now he's out there, soaking up all that power, and if we don't stop him soon he's going to use it. Our best guess-- He's going to try to make himself a god."

"Yeah, that's never good," Forge sighs. "And you need Charles to help you stop him."

"Yeah," Ptonomy sighs.

Forge concentrates, his thoughts an agitated blur. And then-- He snaps into focus. "You don't need Charles. You need to stop the storm. Or at least-- Calm it down, right?"

"Got something?" Ptonomy asks, hopeful.

"If this guy feeds on pain-- How does he feel about love?" Forge asks. "Relief, joy?"

"Oh, he hates them," Divad says.

"We've been taking mutants away from their families for decades," Forge says. "We had to, to keep them safe. But what if we can reverse all that? Bring everyone home?"

"Reverse the underground railroad," Oliver says, considering the idea. "I think that's absolutely perfect."

"I think it'll work," Ptonomy says, fighting back a grin. "What do you need?"

"Teleporters," Forge says. "Your friends who brought me here, uh-- I didn't catch your names?"

"Dvd Haller and Divad Haller," Dvd says, proudly.

Forge looks at them, and then looks over at David and Past David. "You guys twins or something? Quadruplets?"

"Something like that," Divad says. "We can help."

"Great," Forge says, mind buzzing with thoughts again. "I know some others. And we're gonna need to track down a lot of people. Any of the rest of you safe to leave here, lend a hand?"

"I'm afraid not," Oliver says. "We're rather short on bodies at the moment. The rest of us are telepaths."

"I can help," Amahl says, walking over.

Divad and Dvd both tense.

"I can help," Amahl says again. "If Divad has telekinesis, I believe I do as well."

"Is there a problem?" Forge asks.

Amahl looks to Ptonomy and Oliver, and-- There's a David-like need in his eyes. Oliver gives him a short nod.

"This is Amahl," Oliver says, and tries to think of the simplest explanation. "He's-- A psychic copy of Farouk. But he's choosing to help us stop him."

"A psychic copy, huh?" Forge says, eyebrows raised. He looks Amahl up and down, considering. "I've known a few of those. If Oliver vouches for you, you can help."

"You've known other psychic copies?" Amahl asks.

"The shit I've seen would blow your mind," Forge says, with feeling. "C'mon, we've got work to do. This goes well, we'll get this storm down to a light drizzle."

"That should be enough," Oliver says. "Thank you, Forge."

Forge hesitates, then walks up to Oliver and hugs him. "I'm really glad you're alive." He steps back. "When we find Charles, he'll be glad too. He missed you." Then he turns to Dvd and Divad and Amahl. "Okay, let's do this."

In a blink, they're gone.

"Now what?" Lenny asks.

Oliver looks out at the storm, still furiously battering against the glass. "Now we wait."

Chapter 201: Night: Mutant children born to human parents. (Clark)

Notes:

Yes, I'm back! Thanks for your patience. I had a super busy few months starting a new job. But writing is happening again and the story is humming. I already have ch 208 written and I'm going to go past my last estimate of 210 chapters total. I'll keep making progress as much as life allows.

Chapter Text

They're back. David told him that Daniel and Buster were back and safe in the conference room, but Clark can't believe it, can't trust it. He rushes through the halls of Division 3, his heart in his throat. All he can think about is the moment when his husband and son vanished, and his certain terror in that moment that they were dead, that David and Farouk had killed them, turned them to black dust. It's all he can see and it hurts so much that his whole body feels like it's dying.

And then he turns the corner and all that terror rushes through his body all over again and then rushes out of him, because standing in the hall with Bernice Wallace and a Division 3 soldier is Daniel. Daniel.

"Clark," Daniel says, with as much relief as Clark feels. "Thank god you're okay." And he steps forward and pulls Clark into a brief, strong hug.

"Buster?" Clark asks, barely able to manage even that.

"He's okay," Daniel says. "We're all okay. Is the situation under control?" He looks around the hall, on alert, then looks at Clark again.

Clark just nods.

Daniel softens. "He's inside, c'mon." And he takes Clark's arm and tugs him towards the conference room. The soldier stands in the open doorway and takes up a defensive post.

"Where's Ptonomy?" Bernice asks.

But Clark can't answer that. All he can do is stare at Buster. His son is sitting with Mara, Ptonomy's ex, and he looks-- He looks like he did when Clark and Daniel first adopted him, traumatized and scared like no child should be.

Clark was supposed to protect him. He was supposed to make sure Buster never felt that way again. The failure makes it hard to breathe.

And then Buster looks up and sees him, and Clark shoves it all aside. He pulls Buster into a hug and holds him, feels how alive he is, solid and alive and whole. And a little more of the overwhelming terror recedes.

"Dad," Buster sobs, softly, holding him back just as tight.

Buster's always been a sensitive child. Clark and Daniel adopted him because they wanted to help a kid that needed help most. Buster's mother was an addict who couldn't care for him, the father was AWOL, and then Buster bounced around foster homes for too long, never finding a home. He grew up in the worst of the world, and Clark and Daniel did everything they could to repair the damage. They gave him a safe, stable home, a loving family, a good school, a therapist. Buster adapted and thrived. He was happy, they were all happy.

And then David happened. Clark was burned and became someone else, someone not so safe and stable. And now David happened again.

When they finally pull apart, Bernice is standing there, worried and impatient. "Where’s my brother?"

Clark tries to pull himself back together, and regain his normal stoic composure. "Gone. Farouk took him."

"Oh god," Mara gasps.

"He's an indestructible robot, how the hell did that happen?" Bernice asks, with the anger and attitude of military chain of command.

Clark doesn't answer. The last thing he wants to do right now is explain the metaphysics of souls.

"We have to go after him, get him back," Bernice says, and she's clearly ready to do just that.

"It's under control," Clark says, even though none of this feels remotely under control. "There's a rescue operation underway." Saying it feels like a sick joke, but it's all he has. Farouk doesn't even have a body anymore. They can't arrest a ghost, they can't even find him. Against mutants like Farouk, like David-- Humans are helpless.

That's why the Divisions were created. That's why Clark spent his life killing or enslaving every mutant he found. If he hadn't stopped--

"Rescue operation?" asks Martin Wallace. Ptonomy's father isn't in the best mental shape, that was obvious from the first time Clark saw him. But he's still alert enough to worry. "Where's my son?"

"What kind of rescue operation?" Bernice says. "I want to be involved, I'm not just gonna stand here and wait while my brother--"

"Stop right there!" the soldier calls, and raises his gun.

Clark turns and sees the Karies in the hallway. "Let them in."

The soldier lowers his gun and the Karies rush in, then pause when everyone turns to stare. Then they walk right up to Clark. "You're gonna let us help you, and if you don't, I'm gonna kick you in the shins."

Kerry, Clark assumes. He gives her a very unimpressed look.

"I'm sorry about that," the Karies say, with an apologetic tone that can only be Cary. They look around at everyone. "Ah, Bernie, Mara. Martin. We're so glad you're safe."

"Have we met?" Mara asks, confused.

"Yes," the Karies say, then grimace. "I'm sorry, I know this is a bit confusing, but-- This is Cary, Cary Loudermilk. I know I look-- Different, but--" Their expression falters. "It seems-- This is how I look now."

"You were a white man," Bernice says, flatly. "And now you're a native girl?"

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?" the Karies challenge. Kerry again.

Bernice, despite her military composure, is at a loss. Clark sympathizes.

"What happened?" Daniel asks. "The mainframe's down, we're working blind."

"The Admiral was hurt," Clark says. He's tempted to pull Daniel outside for this but he doesn't want to leave Buster. "Medic's have him."

"And Farouk?" Daniel asks. "He got away?"

"Only his soul," Clark says. "His body's destroyed." He glances at Ptnomy's anxious family. "He took the mainframe souls hostage. Oliver and-- David are going after him."

"David-David?" Bernice challenges. "The one who shot my brother and tried to kill us?"

"He was-- Mind controlled," Clark admits, reluctantly. He doesn't want to defend David or his actions.

"It wasn't his fault," the Karies says, with conviction. Kerry. And then Cary, sadder: "We were supposed to protect him from Farouk and we failed. Now that David is himself again-- I know he'll do whatever it takes to stop Farouk for good, and save Ptonomy. We can trust him."

No one in the room seems convinced. Clark certainly isn't. Even if David succeeds and eliminates Farouk completely, he's a liability and he always will be. A sick, unstable mutant with too much power and god knows what madness Farouk put in his head. If Ptonomy doesn't survive, he'll only have himself to blame. He and the Admiral were the ones who thought David was worth saving. As far as Clark is concerned--

Someone else tries to enter and is stopped by the soldier, and this time it's the new therapists: Marcelle, Miriam, and Minnie. Clark waves them in. The Karies are the first to greet them.

"It's so good to see all of you," the Karies say. "This is Cary, Cary Loudermilk. And Kerry. I know it's confusing, but-- We're-- Sharing our body."

"Cary, Kerry," Minnie says, taking their new situation in stride. "Are you two all right? They only told us that-- There was an attack."

The Karies' expression wavers. "It was Farouk. He-- He got to David. Controlled him. It's over now but--" They stop, unable to continue.

Minnie hugs the Karies. "I'm so sorry. Are you ready to talk about it?"

The Karies shake their head.

"Okay," Minnie says. "How about you introduce us to everyone else?"

"Yes," the Karies say, and gather themselves. "You've met Clark. This is Daniel, his husband, and their son Buster. And Ptonomy's family. His father, Martin, his sister Bernie, and Mara. Everyone, these are good friends of mine, wonderful therapists who-- Came to help us." And then the Karies' expression shifts, determined. "Cary, it's gonna be okay." Another shift, unhappy. "No, I'm afraid it's not. Minnie-- What we hoped for, Division 4 or New Summerland--" The Karies look at Clark, full of regret, and then turn back to Minnie. "That dream appears to be over."

Minnie turns to Clark, with that familiar challenging stare. "Is that true?"

"It's out of my hands," Clark says.

"Then you made your choice?" Minnie asks. "You're choosing to go back to what you were?"

"I'm following orders," Clark says. "Every mutant here is under arrest."

The Karies snort. "You're under arrest," they say, petulantly.

"You're arresting Ptonomy?" Mara asks, displeased. "You're rescuing him so you can throw him in jail?"

"It's his fault that everyone here almost died," Clark says, plainly. "He made the choice to ignore my orders and gave Farouk access to David."

The Karies turn to Clark and glare. They start forward, determined, and then stop, then start, then stop. "Cary, stop it! He's being a jerk, lemme kick him!" A shift. "Violence isn't the answer to this." A shift. "Violence is always the answer!" The Karies start forward again, this time resisting Cary's attempts to stop them, intent on attacking Clark. Daniel's eyes go wide, alarmed, but Clark doesn't even flinch.

And then the soldier steps forward and raises his gun. "Back off, now!"

The Karies stop. They raise their arms. Their expression and posture shift between submissive and defiant. "Clark was gonna let Farouk take Ptonomy," they tell the others. "And Amy and Lenny. He was gonna let Farouk torture them forever. He's worse than a jerk. Cary, we don't need him or the Divisions. We can make New Summerland without them and it'll be better! And I'm not gonna let him or anyone else put us in jail!"

The mood of the room has definitely turned against Clark.

"We should go," Daniel says, quietly.

"Yeah," Clark agrees. "Buster, c'mon."

But when Clark reaches for his son, Buster takes a step back.

"Buster, we have to go," Daniel says, and steps towards him. But Buster steps back again, again, standing close to Mara.

Daniel softens, concerned. "What's wrong?"

Clark sees what's wrong. Buster is afraid. He was already afraid, traumatized by the terrifying chaos Farouk and David caused, but now he's afraid of his fathers. Clark motions for the soldier to stand down.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Clark tells Buster. "I'm trying to protect all of us from some very dangerous people."

"Clark," the Karies say, and it can only be Cary. "What happened wasn't Ptonomy's fault. The Divisions must know that arresting us won't stop Farouk and-- And it won't stop mutants from existing all across the world. You're a good man, I know you are. Do you really want to go back to genocide?"

Clark stares at the Karies. He tries to answer but he can't. If he says no, he'll be a traitor to the Divisions. His life will be over, and even if he survives-- He'll have to face what he's done, the blood on his hands. And if he says yes--

There's a loud clatter, and Clark turns to see the guard has dropped his gun. Clark's ready to tear him a new one for that kind of amateur clumsiness, but then he sees the horror on the guard's face. Worse than horror: grief and soul-crushing despair.

The guard drops to his knees and wails.

"We're under attack," Clark says. It must be Farouk. The embedded communications devices in his body haven't been working since the explosion, so he walks over and grabs the guard's radio and gun. "This is Debussy, report. What's going on? Is it Farouk?" Or David? Sending David to stop Farouk wasn't a good idea a month ago, much less now. "Report!"

"Something's happening, sir," replies a soldier over the radio. "It could be an attack but-- It's global, sir."

"Global?" Clark asks. Farouk talked about taking over the world somehow, is this it?

Daniel kneels down in front of the fallen soldier, and so does Minnie. She looks at his name tag.

"Mr Ainsley," Minnie says, touching the soldier's arm. "Can you tell us what's happening to you?"

"We have reports from all over," continues the soldier on the radio. "The attacks seem to be random."

"We have one victim here," Clark replies. "Anyone else?"

"Checking," says the soldier. A pause. "One more. One of the teleported soldiers."

"Just two?" Daniel says, frowning. "What's Farouk doing?"

"Find out," Clark says. He takes the post that Ainsley abandoned and scans the halls, gun ready. Bernice and the Karies walk up to him, give him wary glares, and then join him in standing guard.

Clark glances over at Buster, and sees Mara comforting him. Marcelle and Miriam are with them and trying to calm Martin, who's becoming confused and agitated.

"Ainsley, report," Daniel says, in his military tone. "The ideas and images in your head, they're not your own. You have to fight them. Remember who you are."

Ainsley gives a guttering sob. "I remember." He pulls off his helmet and tosses it away. His face is flushed red, wet with tears. His eyes are haunted. "I remember."

"That's good, keep fighting," Daniel says. "Remember your mental training."

Ainsley hunches over, clutching his head.

Clark checks the radio again. "Report. What's the status of the other victim?"

"They're bringing him back now," replies the radio soldier.

"Keep him contained, it could be a trick," Clark warns.

"Yes, sir," says the radio soldier.

"I remember," moans Ainsley.

"What do you remember?" Minnie asks.

"He remembers his training," says Daniel.

"Mr Ainsley," Minnie says, ignoring Daniel. "Tell me what you remember."

Ainsley looks up, meets Minnie's eyes. "My-- My daughter," he chokes out, then gives a heartbroken sob. "My daughter!"

Minnie looks to Daniel, who gives a shrug of confusion. "He doesn't have a daughter. No kids, divorced--"

"Shut up!" Ainsley shouts, and stares at Daniel in fury. "You did this to me!"

"Did what?" Daniel says, and then flinches, presses a hand to his head. "Shit," he mutters, panic in his voice. "Clark!"

Clark hesitates, then shoves the gun into Bernie's hands and rushes over to Daniel. "Are you being attacked? Is it Farouk?"

Daniel groans. "I remember."

"It's contagious?" Clark guesses, thinking of the paranoia monster. He gets on the radio. "Lockdown, I repeat, lockdown."

Clark has just enough time to hear the door slam shut and the alarms sound when it hits him, too. Images flash in his mind, new but strangely familiar. Speaking somberly to his superiors. One crying soldier, another begging, another angry. One of them was Ainsley.

Clark remembers. "You had a daughter," he says to Ainsley, his voice dull from shock. "When she was four, you realized she was a mutant."

"You stole her from me," Ainsley says, shaking with anger. "I begged you, my wife begged you. Sophie-- She wasn't like the other mutants, she was an innocent child, she never hurt anyone!"

"She was a mutant," Clark says, echoing his memory self. It was years ago but it feels like it just happened. Daniel brought the situation to him. It was unprecedented, a Division employee having a mutant child. They checked and the wife was human, too. It just happened, like it keeps happening all over the world, mutant children born to human parents.

So they told their superiors, and their superiors said the matter would be taken care of. And then Clark and Daniel, Ainsley and his wife, however many other people who knew about their child-- Everyone forgot.

And then it happened again, with another soldier. Unprecedented again, because Clark couldn't remember that it had happened before. And then it happened a third time.

"Did we kill her?" Clark asks, genuinely. He has no memory of doing anything to the children.

"I don't know," Daniel admits. "If we did it, wouldn't we know now?"

Clark checks the radio again, his hand trembling. "Report." No answer. "Report, dammit."

Nothing.

"Someone want to tell us what the hell is going on?" Bernice asks.

"They did it to themselves," Minnie says, somberly. "They were so afraid of mutants that when they had mutant children of their own--" She looks at Clark and Daniel with an angry kind of pity. "They took the children away and erased everyone's memories of them, of all of it."

"That's sick," Mara says, horrified.

"I didn't care that she was a mutant," Ainsley says, calmer now but absolutely gutted. "Nora. She was my daughter, I loved her. I would have given anything--" He chokes off. "Is she dead? Where is she?"

"We don't know," Daniel admits, ashamed.

"The Admiral knows," Clark realizes, and then he figures it out. "Dammit. I knew it was a bad idea to put Lenny in the mainframe. She found out. It was a secret they hid in there and she found out. And then Farouk took her." And whatever Lenny knew, whatever Ptonomy and Amy knew, Farouk knows.

"Farouk undid it," the Karies say, obviously Cary digging into the problem. "Whatever mechanism the Divisions used to block those memories-- And they were only blocked, not removed, like-- Like what David did to Syd in the desert-- All that was reversed. Dear god, how many thousands of people did the Divisions alter? The families of each mutant, everyone they knew, everyone who knew them, all the official records, doctors, whole communities--" The Karies look shaken.

"So that's how they did it," Minnie says. "That's how they kept mutants a secret. They brainwashed the world."

"And now everyone remembers," the Karies say. "Astonishing. This will change everything! We have to get out there." They go to the door but it won't open.

"Lockdown," Clark reminds them. "And no one's answering. We're trapped."

"Great," Bernice mutters. "Stand back." Then she takes a step back and shoots the door until it falls off its hinges.

The Karies stare and then break into a grin. "You're so cool," they tell Bernice. "Ptonomy's cool, too. Do you know hand-to-hand combat? We should spar sometime."

"How about we get everyone out of here?" Bernice says, patiently amused.

"All this noise, I don't know what's going on," Martin complains, as Miriam guides him towards the open doorway. "I want to see my son."

"Let's see if we can find him," Miriam says.

Clark sees Buster staring at them, very still. Daniel steps forward to talk to Buster, and Buster turns and hurries out into the hall, after Mara. Daniel turns back to Clark, devastated.

"We'll figure it out," Clark promises him.

The halls are red with emergency lights. There's no one in sight, but David teleported away almost all of the soldiers. Not that those soldiers could do much to stop Farouk or David. But Clark wishes they were here anyway. If another attack comes, they're defenseless.

They reach the infirmary and it's already packed full. The Admiral is still unconscious, and being swarmed over by medics. And the research team is surrounding the other beds, running scans and gathering data on the unconscious and empty bodies of Melanie, Oliver, Syd, and David.

David. Clark clenches his fist. He smells chlorine, hears the water lapping at his feet, feels the button under his thumb. It would be so easy--

"End the lockdown. Report," Clark says, loud and sharp, pushing the memory away. He steps forward and the busy crowd parts for him.

"The Admiral's still unconscious, but he's stable," says Doctor Orwell.

"And the mainframe?" Clark asks. "Is it functional?"

"We're just about to find out," Doctor Orwell says. She directs her team as they attach wires to the Admiral's head. One of the wires connects to a monitor. They turn it on and it shows static.

"Okay," Doctor Orwell says. "Here we go." She presses a button on a control pad, and the Admiral twitches, spasms, goes still.

Nothing happens. The monitor keeps showing static. And then-- The sound of talking, muffled speech. And the static fades away, revealing-- A woman, her face crumpled with horror, her eyes filled with grief and soul-crushing despair. "My wife," she sobs. "They killed her! They made me forget--!"

The camera turns, revealing a wide-eyed reporter with a microphone. The city street behind him is filling up with people, many of them in the same horrified grief as the woman. "We already have dozens of reports in this area alone, stories of missing people, children, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives. Somehow completely forgotten over the decades until now."

"Please," begs a man, pushing his way to the reporter. "My son, he was only taken a few years ago. Maybe-- He's still alive--" He cuts off, choked with tears. A woman comes after him and holds him, possibly his wife.

Clark's blood runs cold.

"Is this it?" Daniel asks. "Is it contained? Change the frequency."

The monitor fades back to static, then shows a similar news report in a different language. Clark can only catch a few words of what they're saying, but the visuals are the same: Devastated families, devastated communities, suddenly remembering what was taken from them. What the Divisions took from them over decades, one mutant at a time.

Static again, and then another country, another. All the same.

"Allah protect us," Miriam murmurs, stunned.

"Ptonomy used to say-- There was someone after him," Bernice says. She turns to Clark. "He was talking about you. About this place." She looks around, assessing the soldiers and scientists as a hostile threat.

"Yes," Clark admits. There's no point in trying to hide it now. "The Divisions were created to-- Study and defend against the mutant threat." The words are bitter on his tongue now, the words he lived his life by. He wants to defend the Divisions, to defend himself, to say-- They changed. Last year, David made them change, he stopped them--

But staring into Bernice's eyes, seeing her outrage and disgust--

"I'm sorry," he says, the words small and useless but all he has.

"You told me you were saving the world." Buster is staring at Clark, tears on his face. He looks at Clark and Daniel with betrayal. "You said you keep people safe!"

Clark and Daniel look at each other. Just yesterday, they'd talked about coming up with a plan to move the Divisions forward, but now-- The Divisions are over. Even if the organization itself is still a secret, it won't be for long. Farouk destroyed them, not physically but politically.

"We did say that," Clark says. "And we meant it. We believed we were doing the right thing, Buster. We believed stopping mutants was the only way to save the world."

Buster just stares at him, bewildered. "I don't even know what mutants are. Are they people?"

Daniel covers his mouth and gives a pained groan.

"We thought they weren't," Clark says, honestly. "But they are. We were wrong."

"We're a mutant," the Karies say. They gesture to David, Syd, Oliver, and the Admiral. "They're mutants too. They're our friends." And they gesture to Bernice. "Bernie's brother is a mutant. Mutants-- We're just people who are-- A little different. Sometimes different is scary. Your dads-- They hurt a lot of people because they were scared. But they did a brave thing, they realized they were wrong and they changed. I'm here, my friends are here because of that. To make things better."

The devastation in Buster's eyes fades a little. "Is that true?" he challenges.

"It's true," Clark sighs. There's no going back now. And even though that's terrifying, and the fallout is going to be hell-- He feels suddenly free. If the Divisions are over-- They don't own him anymore. He and Daniel are free. "Cary and I-- We've been planning something new. A place called-- New Summerland. Where mutants and humans can work together." He looks at the Karies, uncertain.

"New Summerland," the Karies say, pleased. Accepting Clark's implied apology. "Then I take it were no longer under arrest?"

"No," Clark agrees. "Sorry about that."

"Apology accepted," the Karies say, and then walk up to Clark and give him a sharp kick on the shin. "Oh! Kerry! Clark, I'm so sorry. Well, I'm not, he deserved it." The Karies stick out their tongue at him.

Clark winces and rubs his leg, but waves away help, accepting the kick as deserved. He's fairly sure it's Kerry's way of forgiving him.

"Great, you changed," Bernice says, unimpressed. "How's that gonna fix all that?" She gestures at the monitor, displaying another news report full of devastated people. "Or him?" She points at Ainsley, still grieving over his lost daughter. "Did you kill all those people?"

"Our primary orders were to capture and assess," Daniel admits. "If the mutant could be studied, controlled, used--" He glances at Buster, ashamed. "Some we killed. Some escaped, or were taken by other mutants."

"Rescued," the Karies say, proudly. "We saved a lot of mutants from you."

"You did," Daniel admits.

"It was a war," Clark says, needing to defend their actions.

"One your organization started," the Karies say, then seem regretful. "But Bernie's right, we need to focus on the present. Farouk removed those memory blocks for a reason. People are suffering on a global scale. He must be using their pain, feeding on it. We need to do something to stop it."

"The mutants you imprisoned," Mara says. "Are any of them still alive? Can you let them go?"

Clark looks to Daniel again.

"We don't know," Clark admits.

"Aren't you supposed to be in charge?" Mara asks, skeptical.

"Yes," Clark says. "But our organization is-- Was-- Structured under the threat of telepathy. We only knew what we needed to know. Everything else was put into him." He gestures at the unconscious Admiral.

"So he's in charge?" Bernice asks.

"The Admiral was our slave," Clark admits. "His mind is a computer, unreadable by telepaths. He keeps our secrets. Until he's awake, we can't find that information."

"So wake him up!" Bernice says.

"We're trying," defends Doctor Orwell.

"Try harder," Bernice says, angry.

"Wow, gang's all here," Dvd says, suddenly appearing in the middle of the crowd.

"It's him!" Bernie says, and goes into defensive mode, pushing her father and Mara back. Buster gives a small yelp of fear and hides behind Clark. Ainsley straightens from his slump and raises his gun. The research team tenses.

"Warm welcome," Dvd mutters.

"Stand down," Clark orders. "Everyone, this is Dvd. Dvd is, uh--"

"David's headmate," Dvd says. "Uh, sorry about the Joonam stuff." He turns to the Karies. "Everything cool here?"

"Relatively," the Karies say. "Farouk seems to have--"

"Yeah, we know about that," Dvd says, with feeling. "Here to help, actually." He looks around the room and lands on Ainsley. "Hey, you missing a daughter named Nora?"

Ainsley stares at Dvd, red-eyed and bewildered. "Uh. Yes?"

"All clear," Dvd says, and Divad appears beside him, startling everyone again. And with Divad-- It's a girl, barely a teenager. Nora?

"It's okay," Divad tells her. "That's him there." He points at Ainsley.

Nora walks forward. "Are you my dad?"

Ainsley stares at her. "Nora?" he asks, voice wavering as he visibly tries to recognize his four-year-old daughter. And then he bursts into tears and opens his arms.

Nora rushes into his arms and hugs him tight. "They said you forgot me," she says, half-muffled against him.

"I did," Ainsley sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Your mom-- Oh my god, we have to call your mom."

"Go," Clark tells him.

Ainsley looks to Dvd and Divad. "Thank you, I-- I can't believe--" He swallows, trying to gather himself. "I'm sorry for everything."

"Make a better world for your daughter," Divad tells him. He turns to the Karies. "Hey, we gotta go. Got a lot of reunions to do. Oh hey, you know this Forge guy?"

"Forge!" the Karies say, surprised. "Yes, yes I do. He's with you?"

"Yeah, wanna come help?" Dvd asks. "We could use another pair of hands."

"Absolutely," the Karies say, then hesitate. They turn to Clark.

"Go," Clark tells him. "This is my mess."

"It's everyone's mess," the Karies say. "We'll come back. We have a lot of work to do for New Summerland."

"Sure," Clark says, and waves him off.

"Can we help?" Marcelle asks.

"I'm coming, too," Bernice insists.

Dvd and Divad look at each other. "Anyone else?" Divad asks.

"We'll stay here," Mara says, one hand on Martin's arm. "Did you find Ptonomy?"

"Yeah, we got him," Dvd says, proudly. "And Lenny and Amy."

"Oh, that's wonderful!" the Karies say. "Thank goodness."

"Can you bring them here?" Mara asks, hopeful.

"Working on it," Dvd says. "We gotta go. Hands up if you're coming."

Hands go up, and then Dvd and Divad and their volunteers vanish. Clark looks around. Mara and Martin stayed, and to Clark's surprise so did Minnie. Mara guides Martin to a pair of chairs and sits with him. Buster goes over to her and she hugs him. Clark feels a pang of jealousy.

"I thought you'd want to go save the world," Clark tells Minnie.

"The world's going to need you," Minnie says, looking at both Clark and Daniel. "And right now you need me."

"I'm not the kind of person you like to help," Clark points out.

"You're trying to be better," Minnie says. "That's exactly the kind of person I help."

That feels remarkably like Kerry's apology kick, and Cary's promise to come back. But Clark doesn't feel like he's earned their belief in him. "What if I'm not?" he asks her, genuinely. Clark did nothing but backslide tonight. He tried to arrest everyone, he was willing to leave Ptonomy and Lenny and Amy in Farouk's hands. He thinks of the Karies accusing him of trying to go back to genocide. He thinks of the fear in Buster's eyes.

"You're willing to ask that question," Minnie points out. "A lot of people aren't. Take the same advice Ainsley did. Do whatever you can to make a better world for your son."

"That's what I thought I was doing," Clark admits.

"That's what we both thought," Daniel says. "C'mere." He pulls Clark into a hug and holds him.

Clark holds Daniel, and something falls from Daniel's back. Minnie picks it up and holds it out. "A leaf?"

"Oh," Daniel says, realizing. "When we were teleported away, we ended up in a forest."

"David," Clark says, and looks over at David's unconscious body. "Quiet and green." Of course that's where David put them. That's what safe means to him.

Joonam wasn't David's fault. It was their job to protect him from Farouk, and they failed. But David saved himself anyway, saved them from Farouk's madness. He's out there trying to save them from Farouk's madness again, even though he's still in pieces and always will be.

Clark recalls his memory of the pool, the chlorine in his nose, the water lapping under his feet. He feels the trigger under his thumb, ready to kill. And he takes his thumb off the button and throws the trigger into the water.

Chapter 202: Night: What does it mean to be David Haller? (David)

Chapter Text

It was Farouk, David thinks, as he stares through the glass at the slowly easing storm. All this time, all this wondering-- Why? Why was he given away? Was it fear of the Divisions? Did his birth parents just-- Not want him? Couldn't want him? And now--

Of course it was Farouk. Of course. Farouk attacked his birth parents-- Charles and Gabrielle. He attacked them and lost but-- The damage was done.

"David?"

David turns to see Ptonomy beside him. He feels Ptonomy's restless energy, his urgency to leave the white room and stop Farouk and save the world. He feels Ptonomy's concern for David. David tenses, remembering the anger that was always there when Ptonomy thought about him before, the distrust and--

But it's not there. It's just concern, genuine caring. He wasn't sure, all this time--

"That was a big shock, what Oliver said about your birth parents," Ptonomy continues. "How are you feeling?"

"Still my therapist?" David asks, wryly defensive. He sighs. "I don't know."

"It's a lot to take in," Ptonomy admits. "A lot of pain."

David gives a short nod. 'A lot of pain' feels like an impossible understatement, and it feels-- "I just feel-- Numb," he admits. Farouk has taken so much from him, it's hard to even feel how much this hurts. But then he's in shock, like he's always been in shock, from the countless, endless ways Farouk has hurt him his entire life.

"I don't remember them," David continues, surprised at how weary and bitter he sounds. "Even he doesn't remember them." He gestures at Past David, sitting on one of the couches with Amy. He's in shock too, numb the same way David is numb, because they're the same person. Even if they are two separate identities now.

Shame breaks through the numbness, and David looks away, back at the storm. In the reflection on the glass, he sees Lenny approach. She's been wearing a hole in the white carpet since Dvd and Divad and Amahl left.

"Is it safe yet?" Lenny asks, tersely, again.

"Not sure," David admits. The storm has been gradually calming for a while now, as his headmates help reunite mutants with their families around the world. Half a hurricane is still a hell of a storm, but if he has to choose between therapy and the storm right now-- Bracing himself, he reaches for the door handle and flips the lock.

A blast of grief hits him, making him flinch, making Past David and Oliver flinch. But then-- There's more than just pain. He braces himself again and slides open the door, and the wind rushes in. Relief, joy, love-- Those emotions are just as intense, swirling in the storm. It's a lot but-- It's bearable.

And after the isolation of the white room in lockdown-- The quiet was too much like wearing the crown. All that noise from all those minds-- He actually missed it.

"Finally," Lenny says. "Let's go kill that asshole." She pushes past him and marches right out the door. David hesitates, looks to Oliver for help, and then follows her out.

The astral plane is still turbulent, but out here it's obvious that the worst of the storm is over. The landscape seems more barren than usual, and David realizes it's because a lot of the little green lights are gone, like-- When a hurricane blows the leaves off the trees. Ptonomy appears, then Past David and Amy, then Oliver.

“Is it safe for you guys to be— Out here?” David asks

“I don’t care,” Lenny says. “You’re not killing him without me.”

“Your souls are still anchored to the body of David’s system,” Oliver says. “But exposed like this, you are vulnerable."

“We’ll go back in if we need to,” Ptonomy says. “We have to find Farouk, stop whatever he’s doing.”

"So find him," Lenny says.

"That won't be difficult," Oliver says. He gestures over the mountains, where the storm still rages. There's a column of dark wind, like a tornado, flecked with little green lights. There's a kind of-- Dark brightness at the center, pulling the lights in. "Even obscured by the storm, he burns very brightly."

"He's still charged up?" Ptonomy asks. "But we're taking out the storm."

"Cutting him off won't remove what's been taken," Oliver says.

"Then we need to be ready for him," Ptonomy says, and turns to David, and frowns. 'He does not look ready.'

"I'm ready," David says, and tries to believe it, tries to clear his head so he can kill Farouk once and for all. But the vivid image of Farouk's body flashes in his mind, the gory halo of blood and brains-- The machine gun in Lenny's Vermillion's hands-- The chemical smell of burning wires and gunpowder-- Farouk in Syd's body, screaming--

Maybe it's not just the truth about his birth parents. Maybe it's everything, this whole hellish night since he got his memories back. He just wants it all to be over, but he has to stop Farouk, again. And if he fails again?

And then Amy walks up to him and hugs him. She doesn't say anything or think anything, she just holds him and loves him as the winds blows around them, carrying gusts of other people's emotions. She holds him, and the tight knot in his gut loosens, and he breathes out, and the numbness edges back.

When Amy finally lets him go, she turns to Ptonomy. "We're not just throwing David at Farouk," she says, firmly. "Especially without Dvd and Divad. We need a plan." She turns to Oliver. "How do we stop him?"

Oliver gives a thoughtful hum. "Without his body, Farouk is once again a parasitic soul. When he was unable to reattach himself to the body of David's system, he created a storm of negative emotions to feed on. Grief, pain, anger. What we need is a powerful source of positive emotions to counter him."

"That's what's stopping the storm," Ptonomy says. "Reuniting mutants with their families. Can we use that?"

"Possibly," Oliver says. "But David's system has never been parasitic. I believe they'll be strong enough together, if they can find harmony."

"Harmony?" David asks. He looks at Past David and Past David looks back.

"We felt harmony before," Past David realizes. "When Farouk-- He wanted to fuse the three of us. To make us whole, but--"

"We said no together," David recalls. "It was like-- Being in the amplification tank. We felt strong, everything opened up."

"So that's how you freed Oliver," Ptonomy says. "But Farouk still overpowered you?"

"It was the storm," Past David says. "All that grief--"

"Should we say no again?" David asks.

"if the grief storm overwhelmed you before, defiance might not be enough," Oliver says. "What you need are positive emotions. Peace, joy, love."

Peace and joy already feel out of reach, and then David feels the pang of longing from Past David and it pisses him off. "I'm not gonna love Farouk," David says.

Past David looks away, hurt and ashamed.

"I wasn't suggesting that you do," Oliver says, mildly. "Perhaps you can feel love for each other?"

David and Past David turn to each other, and see matching skeptical looks.

"Okay, let's take a minute here," Ptonomy says, intervening. "Both of you have been through a lot. I think you need to talk.”

"Farouk's right there and you wanna do a session?" Lenny says, disbelieving.

"We have to," Ptonomy says. "We'll make it quick. David, you know how to do this, we'll start with you. How do you feel about the other David?"

David gives a frustrated huff. "I don't know, I--" He looks at the dark clouds, looks at Lenny, tense and unhappy. She's been through so much, she just needs this to be over. They all need this to be over.

He looks at Past David and forces himself to focus on how that makes him feel.

"He's my fault," David says, working hard to let the words out. "If I was strong enough-- I should have been able to hold on to all those memories. They're my memories, mine, I'm the one who--" He breaks off, swallows. "He exists because-- I'm not strong enough. So everything that happened, Joonam and Cary and-- That's my fault. His pain is my fault."

"That's a lot of shame," Ptonomy says, in that familiar therapist tone. David's not sure if it's soothing or annoying right now. Maybe both. "And a lot of anger underneath that shame, right?"

"Yeah," David says, roughly.

Ptonomy turns to Past David. "Okay. David, tell me how you feel about the other David. Just be honest."

"He stole my life," Past David says, angry. Then he softens. "I know it was Farouk. I know that but--" He hugs himself, struggling. "When Farouk first put me back-- I was confused, I was scared-- But now I know-- It's real. This is real. Me and Dvd and Divad were always together, and then-- They spent ten years without me. With him." He gestures angrily at David. "And now everyone's older and different and-- I don't even fit in my own system. The surgery-- It was supposed to fix everything. I was supposed to be him. But he doesn't want me." His voice trembles with grief.

"Of course I want you," David protests.

"If you wanted me, I'd be you!" Past David says, furious. "I don't want to be 'Past David', and you know I can hear you thinking that! I want to be David!"

"Okay," Ptonomy says, calmly. "So both of you want to fuse?"

"Yes," Past David says, certain. He turns to David and stares at him, expectant.

"I want to fuse," David insists. "I want to be whole, that's all I want! I'm just--" He falters, but forces himself to go on. "I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid of the pain, I'm afraid of-- The memories. Being forced to love Farouk, to think of him like a father, because that's how you feel."

"That's not fair!" Past David protests. "He tricked me! It wasn't my fault!"

"It doesn't matter!" David says. "The only memories I have of Farouk from before the last two months-- He was just a yellow-eyed demon, a hallucination. He wasn't real. But if we fuse then-- I'll remember the truth. I'll remember living with him inside me my entire life. Not a figment of a sick mind, Amahl goddamn Farouk. And I don't want--" He cuts off, choked with emotion, with fear and nausea. His eyes well with tears.

When they were Joonam, he remembered all of it. But the Amahl part of him was in charge, so it only felt right. But once Amahl was gone-- It was unbearable. He had to let the memories go. Just the thought of remembering again makes him sick.

"So that's it, then," Past David says, hollowly. "I'm too tainted for you. Why did you even take me back?"

"I didn't steal your life," David says, roughly. "Farouk ripped us apart. He took everything. He took our system. He took Amy. He took our birth parents and I can't even remember our adoptive parents' faces without looking at a photo album. You think it's so great to be me? I have fucked things up so much-- I was going to end the world! You think fusing with me will fix things? I barely exist. I can't save you." He looks up at the heart of the storm, the furious emotions churning inside it. Farouk's feast. How could he stop that? "I can't save anyone."

"So what, you're just gonna give up?" Lenny challenges. "We survived all that bullshit just so you can stand there and feel sorry for yourself? Tell me your story."

"What?" David asks, confused.

"Tell me your goddamn story," Lenny commands. "Tell me who David Haller is, right now."

"Um," David starts. Lenny is too terrifying to refuse. What was the story? "I'm David Haller because--" No, the story's changed now. He knows now. "My birth parents gave me away. To my mom's brother. Because they were hurt and-- They wanted me to be happy."

They wanted him to be happy. They loved him. They didn't want to give him up, they loved him.

"Keep going," Lenny says.

David takes a breath, lets it out. "The man who hurt my birth parents-- He attached his soul to my body. He was trying to eat me alive, so-- I trapped him. He hurt me, so-- I became a system and we fought him together. And we kept fighting until we got the right help and got him out."

"And who do you belong to?" Lenny challenges.

"Myself," David says, stronger now. "I belong to myself." That's in his foundation because Lenny helped him put it there. I am David. I belong to myself. I am love.

But also: I survived. I didn’t deserve what happened to me.

"After the surgery," David says, needing to say it. "Farouk's memories-- They shattered me. I was just-- A fragment. I couldn't even remember my own name. But I remembered my foundation. I think-- That was the one part of me that survived."

"That's a strong foundation," Ptonomy says, warmly. "I think a foundation like that can handle a few bad memories."

"Maybe," David allows, and at least feels-- A little less bleak about all of that. "Thanks, Lenny."

"Pay me back by killing that asshole," Lenny says, seriously.

David looks up at the storm, then turns to Past David. He still looks utterly miserable. David looks to Ptonomy for help.

"David," Ptonomy says to Past David. "How about you tell us your story? What does it mean to be David Haller?"

"He's David now, I'm just Past David," Past David says, bitterly.

"You're right, that is how we think about you," Ptonomy admits. "But that was just to make things easier for us. You're not just a section of memories from David Haller's past. You exist as a member of your system, just as much as your headmates. So let's fix this. Can we all agree to address David as David, to think of him as David?"

Everyone agrees.

'Gonna be confusing,' Lenny thinks, but without concern.

"David," David says, addressing-- The other David. Not just a piece of his memories, his past, any more than Dvd and Divad are. They're headmates. Respecting that-- It's part of their healthy multiplicity. "I'm sorry for calling you Past David."

"Yeah," the other David says, still upset but not as much as before. Then he sighs, letting go of some of that pain. "At least I don't want to be called Joonam, right?"

David gives a weak laugh. "Right."

"You're David," Ptonomy says to the other David, with confidence. "Both of you are David. No matter what happened, no matter what Farouk did, you held on to that truth. So David, tell me what it means to you to be David Haller."

The other David sighs, frowns with thought. "I guess-- Everything he said was true." 'He doesn't need me. He doesn't want me. Why did they save me?'

"David needed to piece together the truth to figure out who he is," Ptonomy tells the other David. "But you didn't forget, right? You always knew your truth. So tell us."

"My truth?" the other David says, but isn't happy about it. He gives David a wary look, then turns back to Ptonomy. "Being David means-- Being afraid. All the time." His voice wavers, and he swallows. "You're right. All of my memories-- He's in all of them. He was always, always there, always--" He cuts off, struggling. His eyes shine with tears. "You want me to stop him and I can't-- It's like there's this-- Huge hole inside me, where he should be. And it hurts."

"You still want him back?" Ptonomy asks, gently.

"Of course I do!" the other David says, his voice rough. "When he's gone-- How am I even me?"

"The same way you're you right now," Ptonomy says.

"Am I?" the other David asks, genuinely. "Because I wasn't this before, I was part of him--" he gestures at David-- "and now I'm not."

"You're right," Ptonomy agrees. "You have changed. As a member of your system, you are essentially-- New. But even if your sense of self is new, your memories of your past are real, and they're yours."

The other David just shakes his head, overwhelmed.

"It's a lot," Ptonomy admits. "A hell of a lot." He glances up at the storm, then rubs at his beard, thinking. Then he looks at the other David directly. "And you know what? That's okay. It makes complete sense that you feel that way."

The other David gives him a wary look.

"I mean it, David," Ptonomy says. "You are incredibly strong to have survived so much, to have gone through so much change, and you're still yourself. You're still David. You are David. Right?"

"Right," the other David agrees, though still wary.

"How about we start you out on your own foundation?" Ptonomy offers. "And that can be the first piece. 'I am David.' How does that sound?"

"Oh," the other David says, realizing. "Um, it kinda-- Already is. Dvd and Divad-- When we were fragments--" 'Divad said-- I deserve to be safe and loved and cared for. Divad really said that. And we all felt so much love for each other. How could I abandon all that for Farouk? I was afraid. I did it because I was afraid. I don't want to be afraid.'

"That's right," David remembers. "We were just-- Two really confused fragments. And Dvd and Divad helped us do foundation work." He feels a rush of pride for his headmates. Everything was scary and confusing and-- They helped, they really helped.

"They did, huh?" Ptonomy says, and David can feel how proud he is of them, too.

'You're welcome,' Dvd thinks to them, feeling very smug.

"It's Dvd!" David says, with a relieved smile. 'Are you guys done?'

'Almost,' Divad thinks. 'How's it looking up there?'

'Better,' David tells them. 'But Farouk's all charged up. Ptonomy wants me and David to stop him.'

'You're not gonna kick his ass without us,' Dvd says. 'We'll be there in a minute, wait for us.'

'We're so proud of both of you,' Divad thinks to them, and David feels a wave of love from Divad, and then from Dvd, too.

'Dvd,' the other David thinks, with a wave of longing.

Dvd answers with a wave of his own longing, and then their mental shields are back up as they focus back on the physical world.

"Wanna catch us up?" Ptonomy says.

"Dvd and Divad will be here soon," David tells him. "And uh-- They're really proud of us." He looks over at the other David, and the other David is-- Calmer. Less afraid. "Amy's right. If we're gonna stop Farouk-- We need them."

"Then let's finish getting ready for them," Ptonomy says. He turns to the other David. "How does it feel, knowing your headmates helped you start your new foundation?"

The other David concentrates. "It feels-- It helps me feel-- More like I belong," he decides.

"That's great," Ptonomy says. "And how does belonging make you feel?"

"Better," the other David says, with a tiny smile.

"You are David. You belong," Ptonomy says, and gives the other David an expectant look.

"I am David. I belong," the other David says, and David can feel him taking strength in the words.

"You are David. You belong," David agrees, with a small smile of his own. He braces himself and remembers the right words for this moment. "David-- I want to acknowledge that-- I want us to be together. To fuse. But I'm not ready to act on that yet. Can that be-- Okay? For now?"

The other David's tiny smile disappears. He sighs, unhappy.

"David," Ptonomy says to the other David. "Getting you back was a huge step for your system. All of your system loves you and wants you to be with them. I know you can feel that. The relationships you have with Dvd and Divad-- Farouk did a lot to mess with them. But they're already healing. A little at a time, they're healing, right?"

"Yeah," the other David admits.

"Your relationship with David needs time to heal, too," Ptonomy says. "But I truly believe it will heal. Can you try to believe that? Just try?"

The other David isn't thrilled but-- "I guess I can try."

"That's wonderful," Amy says, and she's overflowing with pride and love. "I'm so proud of both of you." And she pulls both Davids in, and hugs them together.

Amy, David thinks, and feels so much love for her. He's so glad she's here, that they saved her.

'Amy,' the other David thinks. 'The real Amy, not Farouk's tricks. My Amy. I'm so glad she's here, that she's real.'

And then, despite all the emotions that the therapy session churned up-- They feel the same. Something resonates between both Davids, a kind of harmony. And just for a moment, just like before, everything opens up. All the fear falls away, and most of all they feel-- Love. A pure, deep love for Amy.

They pull back from Amy in amazement, and the harmony fades.

"David?" Amy says, concerned, asking both of them.

"We're okay," David says. He turned to Oliver. "That was it! The-- The harmony thing, that was it, right?" He turns back to the other David for confirmation.

"Yeah," the other David agrees. 'It worked, it actually worked.' He smiles and shakes his head in disbelief.

David remembers feeling a similar harmony with Dvd and Divad, about Kerry. And wanting them to feel that harmony about Amy and Syd. If his whole system can feel harmony together--

"We're back!" Dvd says, suddenly reappearing and immediately pulling the other David into a tight hug and squeezing him breathless. 'My David,' Dvd thinks. Dvd's determined love swirls with the other David's surprised happiness, and the strength of their emotions pushes away the astral winds, just for a moment.

'Dvd,' the other David thinks, with such intensity. David remembers how it felt to feel that, when they shared their date with Dvd just hours ago. He feels a pang of jealousy, but also-- He's glad. He's glad they're back together.

Dvd notices David thinking that, of course, and as soon as he pries himself away from the other David, he grabs David and hugs him breathless, too. 'I love you so much, idiot,' Dvd thinks.

'I thought it's Divad's job to insult me,' David teases. But he hugs Dvd back just as tight as the other David did.

"We reunited everyone we could," Divad says, appearing with Amahl beside him. "We wanted to do more, but-- We had to come back." He hesitates, then goes to the other David and hugs him tightly, too. The other David still feels surprised by Divad's affection, but it makes him softly happy. 'David,' Divad thinks, with unusual emotion. 'I'm so glad we got you back.'

"Forge said he would be in touch," Amahl adds. 'This situation has greatly affected the entire mutant community."

"Way to play it down," Dvd says. "People are going nuts, but at least it's a good nuts. There’s so many mutants out there."

Divad finally lets go of the other David, and of course immediately hugs David, too. 'I'm so glad we got you back,' he thinks to David, too, and it feels just as genuine. David finds himself feeling the same soft happiness as the other David. The love of his system--

It doesn't feel like a bad thing, to feel what the other David feels. Not when it's this.

"David," David says, holding on to that feeling. "It's not-- What's in the way of us-- Fusing-- It's not you. It's-- It's the pain, the trauma. If we can help you-- Process it, work through it--"

The other David takes that in. "What if-- The pain is all I am?"

"You know that's not true," David tells him, certain. "You have so much love in you, our system's love, Amy's love, our-- All our parents' love. I want to share that with you so much. I want us to be that love together."

The other David softens. "You really mean that?"

David nods. "I really mean it."

The other David looks at David with emotion-filled eyes and then-- Hugs him. David holds him back, and-- It's not like before, when they were one soul stretched between two bodies. When they touched before, their soul tried pull back together by force, dragging their minds with it.

Now, they each feel what they feel, and with their mental shields down, they feel what each other feels. It's not as pure and powerful as loving Amy together, but that harmony-- It sings in their soul.

A cautious hope, still edged with fear. A shared longing to one day be whole and healed.

"Okay," the other David sniffs. He lets David go and wipes his eyes, gives a wobbly smile. David gives a wobbly smile back.

"Excellent work," Oliver says. "Now if we can just get the four of you together-- Ah." He turns to Amahl.

"We need David's entire system for this, right?" Ptonomy asks.

"There's actually a sixth headmate," Divad admits. "Another David, but-- He's really young."

"We're not letting Farouk anywhere near him," Dvd says, defiant.

"Four should be sufficient," Oliver says, apologetic.

"It's all right," Amahl says, holding up his hands in surrender. "I understand that-- Harmony with me would be-- Challenging."

"No shit," Dvd mutters.

"Perhaps with time," Amahl starts, with longing, but shakes his head. "The memories that make me who I am-- They don't belong to us, to our system. Whoever I become once they're gone-- That is who will be worth your love."

David wants to protest, to say that they don't need to erase the memories Farouk forced into them-- But they all know Amahl is right.

Lenny gives a sharp clap. "Playtime's over. We gonna stop this asshole or what?"

"Let's do this," Dvd says. "Oliver, what's the plan?"

"We need to destabilize the eye of the storm," Oliver explains. "The storm is made of grief, pain, and anger. The psychic energy comes from millions of minds, but your system alone is more powerful than all of them. To use that power together, you need harmony. Feel the love your system shares with each other and with Amy. Let it sing through your soul until it grows too enormous to contain, and then send it into the storm."

"Once Farouk's exposed, we can find out what he's been doing," Ptonomy adds. "We need to contain Farouk and undo the damage, whatever it is."

"And then we blow his astral brains out," Lenny says, eagerly.

"Yes," Oliver says, with a tinge of regret. "When you're ready?"

David, Dvd, Divad, and the other David stand together and join hands. All four of them feel each other, share their thoughts and emotions together and work to match them. They breathe together, synchronizing, and think about-- Finding each other and being found. Saving each other and being saved.

They are four parts of one mind, one soul, one body. And all of them love their sister Amy. No, not just their sister, their cousin. Mom and Dad were-- Aunt Ruth and Uncle Simon. The family they never knew they already had. They were never abandoned, they were loved, they were protected. Through all the pain, they've always had each other. They've always had Amy. They're a family and they love each other so much.

It's hard for each part of them to accept love for themselves, but so easy to love the others. Their love for each other weaves together, loosely and then tighter, stronger. They feel the world start to open up to them, like in the amplification tank. They are stronger than the storm, stronger than Farouk, stronger than all the pain combined.

They step together and merge into each other, into one astral form. They spread out all eight of their arms, four pairs of hands all with their middle fingers raised at the whirling eye of the storm. And then they rise to meet it.

Chapter 203: Night: Separate and whole unto themselves. (David)

Chapter Text

They are one. They are love. They dive forward into the dark, whirling storm, and all around them is grief and loss and pain. The storm suffocated them before, crushed them under its weight, but when the blustering winds reach them now, the winds falter and calm.

They are four parts of one mind, one soul, one body, and they are stronger than the storm. Together, they move their arms and spread their shared love out, the light of family and belonging and reunion and joy, and they feel those joys echoed in minds across the world, and they laugh and their love grows even stronger.

As the darkness fades, they see millions of tiny green lights swirling around them, still carried by the weakening winds. It seems like all the missing lights from around the astral plane have been gathered here, growing denser as they reach the eye of the storm, a circular wall of green light.

And within the column of green: Farouk.

They see him now, not just a silhouette of power but the man himself. Darkness roils around him, pulls into him; he's still feeding on what's left of the storm. They can feel how he's gorged himself, stuffed full but he still wants more.

'Amahl,' one part of them thinks, full of hurt and longing. Another part of them reacts with revulsion, and another, and they falter, the tight weave of their love coming loose.

'Amy,' another part thinks, firmly. 'Think about Amy.'

Amy. All of them think about Amy, about-- Love stronger than death. Belonging and reunion and joy. And their love pulls tight again. They focus on it, feed it with all their strength and then-- They send it outward. They glow like the sun and the eye of the storm finally collapses. The dark winds disperse, but the column of green remains. And from within--

They feel Farouk's rage, and his dark delight, his hunger for them. A blast of grief and pain shoots directly at them, but they pull away so it only grazes them. They falter again, just a little, but they think of Amy and they're ready. They won't be Farouk's victim again.

They teleport behind Farouk, shoot through the green lights and hit him in the back with a blast of love. Farouk whirls, teeth bared with anger, and lashes out at them. They teleport away again, and blast him again. Farouk blasts at them, and this time they easily avoid it.

They're stronger than him. He fed on the whole world, but they're still stronger than him, and they can feel it. And that stolen power isn't his. With the storm gone, with his body gone, it's just a matter of time until he runs out.

They don't have to be afraid of him, not anymore.

As they teleport again, avoiding another blast, they notice that the green wall of light isn't complete. There are gaps, some of them big ones, and then they realize-- It's not a wall. It's a map of the world, the green lights making up the land.

'He put the lights on a map,' they think to Oliver. They knew Farouk was up to something, and this must be the something. But what does it mean? 'What are those lights anyway?'

'Souls,' Oliver replies. 'Or rather-- The point where each soul connects to the astral plane.'

They wince. 'We've been blasting right through people's souls?'

'Sudden positive feelings shouldn't be harmful,' Oliver thinks. 'But yes, do what you can to lure him away from the souls. I'll deal with the map.'

Lure him away, right. They realize now that Farouk isn't hiding in his map of souls but defending it, trying to hold on to whatever he's created. No, not just defending it. In the few seconds they've been talking to Oliver, Farouk has pulled in more green dots and added them to the map. He's trying to finish it.

They can't let Farouk make one of his sunrises out of the whole world.

"Leave them alone," they tell Farouk.

Farouk ignores them, keeps working. They look closely at the map and-- The four of them together like this, with all their powers opened up-- They can see how each light is connected to a silver cord. No, each light itself is the silver cord, the open end of it. And Farouk has taken his own silver cord and split it into countless threads, and-- And that's what the lights are mounted to.

'Oliver, this is bad,' they think. 'We can't pull him out of there, he's attached, he's-- He's grafted himself onto all those souls.' This is bad, this is very bad.

'Stay calm,' Oliver soothes. 'Tell me what you see.'

There's no time for that. They show him instead, sending him a visual message like they did with the Karies and Clark and Lenny back when they were plotting to stop Farouk in the desert. Being in harmony like this, it's even more powerful than the amplification tank. They feel like-- They could do anything, absolutely anything.

Perhaps they are a god, like everyone keeps telling them they are. They're not sure what they want that to mean, and it unsettles them, risks their harmony. They push away the thought and think of Amy.

Oliver pauses as he receives their message. 'I see,' he thinks, pondering. 'We need to disconnect the silver cords from Farouk. It should be done with great care, but in this situation-- We need to act quickly. You can see the cords?'

'Yes,' they answer.

'Then grab them and pull them free. And if you can't, then-- Cut them.'

They hesitate. 'Won't that hurt them?'

'Yes,' Oliver admits. 'But they'll heal. If Farouk takes full possession of them--'

'Right,' they think, with a collective shudder. They know Oliver is right, desperate times call for desperate actions. But to wound millions of souls like that-- And not just any souls, but-- Mutant souls. And the souls of humans who knew them, loved them. The people who felt the most pain remembering what the Divisions did to the world. They're the ones whose pain Farouk wanted most.

They don't want to hurt those people to save them. There has to be a better way.

If they're a god-- They don't want to be a cruel one. They want-- They want to be love.

Love. They hit the green lights with love before, but they didn't feel any pain from the souls. If Farouk feeds on pain, if he's disgusted by love-- Then maybe they can use that.

They test the idea first. They focus on the green lights, and the faint silver cords leading from them in all directions, and they choose one. They reach their mind out to it and feel its emotions. There's the grief and pain that helped create the storm, and a fresh anger, but also-- Relief, joy, the love of-- A mother for their child. Their child is home, after so long, how could they have forgotten them?

'It wasn't your fault,' they soothe, sharing a little of their own emotions, feeling harmony with the soul. 'The only thing that matters is that you're together.' They feel that for themselves, and they feel it with the soul, and they resonate in gentle harmony.

Through their harmony, they can feel where the soul has been joined with Farouk's silver web. And at the point of connection-- Disgust, revulsion. Rejection, like-- A failed organ transplant. Incompatible. All it takes is a gentle tug and the soul breaks free. They guide it away from the green map, then let it go on the astral winds. Without the storm, the soul floats away, back on its natural course.

Farouk is still frantically connecting himself to more souls and hasn't noticed that one tiny soul's escape. But he's not going to miss this.

They think of Amy again, they think of how it felt to lose her and get her back, how it felt to help each other heal. And their system, how it felt to be-- Their rocket lamp, badly broken and barely held together but then-- Each piece of them being cared for, being loved and helped and then-- Loving and helping each other. Their wounds, old and new, finally starting to heal. And their love weaving together into the form they are now, each part of them separate but somehow--

Love makes them whole, so much love from each other and Amy and their friends. Love from the parents who raised them and the parents who had to let them go. And it's the same as the love they feel in all these countless souls, love fighting back against the pain with all its might. All those souls need to get free of Farouk is a little help.

So they give it.

Farouk convulses in disgust as his soul rejects the love that feeds into him from every captured soul. He retches, physically sick, and while he's distracted, they tug free every single soul. There's a burst of green light and then the map blinks out. They send the souls off into the winds, and all that's left is a wall of empty silver threads.

Farouk gives an animal howl, furious and wounded.

'They're free,' they tell Oliver, triumphant and a little dizzy. 'Farouk's pissed. What should we do?'

'Turn him to dust,' Lenny says, and they can feel her hurt and anger.

'Capture him, if you can,' Oliver says.

Lenny's anger spikes. 'You gonna listen to him or me?'

They feel torn, and their harmony wavers. But Farouk's turning on them now, anger radiating off him like a black sun, and they have to make their decision.

Lenny wants revenge. They want it too, but-- Not all of them. Killing Farouk-- It would hurt them, and they don't want that.

Capturing will have to be enough.

Farouk blasts them with his anger, but with the souls gone he's already weakening. They grab the tattered end of Farouk's silver cord and send a blast of their Amy-love right into it. Farouk retches again, and they wrap the cord around Farouk and tie it, pull it tight.

There's a strange feeling at their wrist, and they look down to see the loose threads of the cord trying to attach to them. They startle and jump back, letting go of the cord, but quickly recover. They make a cage around Farouk, like they did with the Amahl alter. Like they did with Farouk himself, when he was a parasitic soul and they were just a baby.

Farouk laughs, manic and angry, and slams against the bars. The bars don't even shake.

'It's done,' they tell Oliver. They stopped Farouk, they actually stopped him.

It's not over yet but-- Relief floods through them, and suddenly they can feel how much all of this has taken out of them. They relax and let each other go, let each other become--

Dvd. Divad. David.

David. He's David.

Farouk slams against the bars again, again. But he's trapped.

The other David stares at Farouk, full of the longing and need that stopped them from killing him, and then he turns away and clings to Dvd, who holds him back and soothes him.

A second later, Amahl appears, bringing everyone else with him.

"What the hell?" Lenny says, the words out even before she's fully visible. "I told you to kill him!" She looks at each of them, looking for who to blame, and lands on the other David. She takes a breath to start yelling at him, but David intervenes.

"We made the decision together," he tells her.

"Bullshit," Lenny sneers, but there's more hurt in it than any real accusation. She rounds on Oliver. "This is your fault. As long as that asshole's alive, he's gonna keep hurting David, he's gonna keep hurting me."

"That's true," Oliver admits.

"Then why the fuck is he still alive?"

"Is he?" Oliver asks. "He has no body, no host. Once his stolen power runs out--" He gestures, indicating— Dissolution.

"He'll find a way," Lenny says, certain. "We gotta kill him, right now."

"Perhaps," Oliver says. "But perhaps this is also-- An opportunity."

"Oliver?" Ptonomy prompts. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about Charles Xavier," Oliver says, immediately getting everyone's attention. Even Farouk stops trying to get free. "How all of this started. Morocco, after the war."

And then the astral plane changes. White stucco walls spring up around them, decorated with ornate metal screens. Above them appears a carved wooden ceiling, with fans hanging down. Round tables fill the room, each with white tablecloths. And at one of the tables--

Farouk, in a suit and tie, his jacket off. There are two beautiful women beside him, and the table is covered with platters of food and drink. The real Farouk is still in the cage, so this one is just an astral creation.

And standing in the doorway is a serious-looking white man in a tan suit.

Divad frowns. "Is that--"

"Charles Xavier," Oliver says, turning to Divad and his headmates. "Your birth father."

David and Divad step forward first, and Amy joins them.

"Uncle Charles," Amy says, amazed. "I don't think I ever knew that Aunt Gaby got married."

David stares at Charles and wills himself to remember him. There must be some distant scrap of memory or feeling-- But there's nothing, any more than he could remember Dvd and Divad at the beginning, or his adoptive parents' faces. He wants to feel some instant connection to this man, but he's just-- A stranger.

"Who cares about him?" Dvd mutters. "He abandoned us."

"He gave us away because of Farouk," Divad counters.

"Yeah, how'd that work out?" Dvd grumbles.

Oliver turns to the other David. "David, would you like to meet your father?"

The other David shakes his head. "It's not really him."

"True," Oliver admits. "But this was your father's memory. He chose to share it with me because-- He wanted me to understand him better."

The other David looks at Charles again, wary. He lets go of Dvd and walks over. Dvd gives a long-suffering sigh but follows him.

"Amahl?" Oliver prompts. "Would you like to join them?"

Amahl hesitates. He takes a step forward and--

Farouk chuckles. He breaks into a grin and laughs. "You think he's your daddy? Your pappa? I am your father. Me, Amahl Farouk. You exist because I created you, because I made you in my image."

Amahl stops, tensed, but doesn't answer.

Farouk leans forward in his cage. "You were my greatest creation. My true son. And yet you betrayed me. Why, when we are the same?"

"You think we're the same?" Amahl asks, finally turning to Farouk.

"Of course we are," Farouk says, warmly. "Of course."

"Then why did you only give me a fraction of yourself?" Amahl asks, genuinely. "Thirty years, when you've lived for centuries?"

"I gave you the only years that mattered," Farouk says. "From the moment we found David, found our son and joined with him."

"Do you think you can lie to me, the way you lie to them?" Amahl asks, insulted. "I remember. He wasn't our son, he was our victim. Revenge against Charles. We tried to destroy him."

"Yes," Farouk admits. "And then we were trapped, caged like an animal." He works the knot of his silver cord free and grabs the bars. "You know how this feels. Do you think they will accept you? Love you? When I am gone, they will put you in this cage."

"They already did," Amahl says. "And then they let me go because they know I'm not you."

Farouk gives a bitter laugh. "You were convenient. A tool they used to stop me. Do you think they will want to see your face every day, and know that part of me lives on inside them?"

"No," Amahl admits.

"Then help me," Farouk says. "Save your father, and I will save you."

"You're not my father," Amahl says, angrily. "I am-- An incomplete copy. Not even that. Do you think having your memories makes me you? I remember what you did to David, I remember your pleasure, and it makes me sick. When you're gone? I will have your memories erased, all of them."

"Suicide?" Farouk says, disappointed. "Amahl Farouk would never accept death."

"I am more than your memories," Amahl says. "I will live and I will change. I will decide who I want to be, not you. Just as they are doing." He points at David, at Dvd and Divad and the other David.

"You will, Amahl," Ptonomy says, intervening. "We can't choose who our parents are, or the world we come into. But we can choose what we want for the life we have."

"Yes," Farouk agrees. "You can choose to kill yourself, or you can choose to live. All you have to do is take my hand." He reaches out through the bars, the end of his silver cord in his hand. The tattered threads strain towards Amahl, hungry, and Amahl eyes them warily.

"Let's take a step back," Ptonomy says, and guides Amahl away from the cage, closer to his headmates. "Oliver? You were saying, about Morocco?"

"Yes," Oliver says. "After the war, Charles began searching for others like him. Amahl Farouk heard him and reached back. He invited Charles to Morocco, to his home, a palace. But it quickly became clear that-- Farouk was not what he seemed."

"I was a generous host," Farouk protests.

"It was a trap," Oliver says. "Charles hoped to find allies, but Farouk-- Charles later learned there had been others like him, other powerful mutants that Farouk invited to his home."

"They were weak," Farouk says, dismissive. "If they had been strong, I would have respected them as equals."

"You killed them," Oliver says, calmly. "Probably after draining them of their powers."

"Parasite," Dvd mutters, glaring at Farouk.

"I was a king," Farouk says, proudly. "I am still a king!"

"A king of the underworld," Oliver says. "You defeated a tyrant. That's what you told Charles. But that night, he discovered the truth. Perhaps your enemies were not good men, but you ripped out their souls and imprisoned them in the minds of children."

"Nothing new there," Lenny mutters, sitting slumped on a cafe chair.

"Charles was still learning his own strength," Oliver says. "And surviving the War had taught him the preciousness of life. Rather than confront you, he left, intending to return to Gabrielle and David, to protect them from you. But before he could board his flight, he received a psychic message from you, asking him to return. Charles agreed to meet you, but only somewhere public. And that was how you ended up here."

Farouk chuckles. "He thought this place would be safe. I showed him the power of the mind, the astral plane. He was a fool."

"But he won, right?" Divad asks. "He kicked Farouk out of his body."

"So what?" Dvd says, annoyed. "What's the point, Oliver? Farouk's always been an asshole. Daddy fucked up. Yeah, we figured that out. Let's just kill him and go home."

"This moment here," Ptonomy says. "This fight has defined your entire lives, yours and Farouk's."

"This is where it all started," Oliver agrees. He takes a step towards Farouk, but leaves a safe distance. "And this is where it can end. Not in death, but in change."

"Change?" Farouk echoes, disbelieving.

"I believe you can change," Oliver tells Farouk, genuinely. "Amahl Farouk would never accept death. But for all your powers, you are dying."

"Then let me out," Farouk says, gripping the bars tightly. He bares his teeth, his desperation leaking out.

"In your own words, you can choose to die, or you can choose to live. All you have to do-- Is let go of David."

Farouk chuckles, then laughs. "Easy. It's done."

"Are you serious right now?" Lenny asks Oliver, upset.

"It's all right," Oliver soothes. He turns back to Farouk. "I'm afraid I don't believe you."

"Then this is an execution," Farouk says, flatly.

"More of an intervention," Oliver says. He pauses, thinking, and walks over to the memory of Farouk, sitting at the table with his women. "Do you remember what it was like to be him? To be an individual instead of a missing limb?"

Farouk's expression sours. He doesn't answer.

"Amahl," Oliver says, turning to him. "Do you remember?"

"No," Amahl admits. "My memories of life as Farouk-- They begin with David."

"Because 'they were the only years that mattered,'" Oliver quotes. "Thirty years, in a life that spans centuries."

"So what?" Dvd says, loudly. "Why are you trying to save him? He doesn't deserve to live. You don't want his blood on your hands? I want his blood. Let me kill him already."

"Fuck yeah," Lenny says, standing up. "Dvd, make me a gun, I'll shoot him again."

"Because killing him once wasn't enough?" Oliver asks her.

"If it was enough, he wouldn't be talking," Lenny says.

"Dvd, your system could have killed Farouk before," Oliver says. "Why didn't you?"

Dvd falters, glances over at the other David, who looks back at him with sad eyes. "Dammit," Dvd sighs.

"I'm sorry," the other David says, tearful. "I just--"

"It's okay," Ptonomy soothes. "You trusted him. You loved him. And even before the lab-- He was a huge part of your life."

The other David gives a sad nod. "I don't want him to hurt us anymore, but--" He takes a shaky breath, another. Divad takes his hand, holds it.

"He feels like a part of you," Ptonomy says, understanding. "Your missing limb." He turns to David. "Is that how he feels for you?"

"Me?" David says, surprised. Compared to the other David, he barely knew Farouk at all. And yet-- That was what he told Farouk, when they were separated in Summerland. Who is he without Farouk? That's the question he's been trying to answer all this time. But even though he knows himself so much better now-- Farouk is still such a huge part of his existence. "Kinda, yeah," he admits.

"Amahl wants to erase his memories of being Farouk," Oliver says. "But all of you need to remember that Farouk existed. To learn, to heal. You need to accept what happened to you. But you also need to let Farouk go, to begin releasing yourself from your attachment to him."

"Fine, just let him die," Dvd says.

"That's not enough," Oliver says.

"He's right," Ptonomy says. "My mother died and-- I couldn't let her go. I used my powers to trap myself in her death. All of you are so powerful-- You need to face this now, together."

"What do we have to do?" David asks, gathering his courage.

"You need to recognize that Amahl Farouk is just a man," Oliver says. "Even though you grew up with him inside you, he is not part of you. He is a person who made a series of choices, most of them long before you were even born. You do not belong to him and you never did."

In the cage, Farouk bares his teeth.

"I see you don't like this idea," Oliver says, calmly. "I thought it was easy for you to let David go."

"He will always be my son," Farouk declares.

"His birth parents were Charles and Gabrielle Xavier," Oliver replies. "And he was raised with love by Simon and Ruth Haller."

Farouk scoffs. "The humans were nothing. And Charles-- He did not deserve to raise my son. He was weak."

"How was he weak?" Oliver asks.

"You think he won this fight?" Farouk asks. "Knocking me out of my body? A lucky blow. But I destroyed him, shattered his spine. And did he heal himself, as I could? No. He became a cripple." He turns to both Davids. "Even without my body, I did not abandon you. I raised you as my own."

"Liar," Amahl says, angry.

"I raised him!" Farouk says, defiant.

"You taught him to suffer," Amahl says. "You taught him to hate himself, to hurt himself. That's what I am! I'm the part of David that thinks you were right, that he deserved everything you did to him! That you didn't do enough!" He's so angry, he's shaking. "And the worst part-- Being you is the only thing holding me back." Amahl looks over at both Davids, and then looks away, ashamed.

"You don't have to hurt anyone," Ptonomy soothes.

"That's not how it feels," Amahl says, voice rough. He looks at Ptonomy with pleading eyes.

"If we took away Farouk's memories right now," Ptonomy says. "What do you think would happen?"

"I'd hurt them," Amahl says. "I'd hurt all of them."

"But those Farouk memories," Ptonomy says. "They stop that feeling?"

"No," Amahl admits. "The parts of us-- We fused because we felt the same."

"The Farouk part of you wants to hurt them too," Ptonomy says.

Amahl nods tightly. "We need to."

"But you're stopping yourself," Ptonomy says. "You're choosing to not hurt them, you're choosing to change."

"It's difficult," Amahl admits. "The need-- If we don't hurt them--"

"Tell us," Ptonomy says, gently. "What do you think will happen?"

For a moment, Amahl goes blurry, like-- He's pulling apart. Just for a moment, David sees another figure imposed over Amahl. A teenaged David, like the fragments he met after his system shattered. But then the figure vanishes, and Amahl is solid again.

"We don't agree," Amahl admits, tired. "Part of us-- The need is-- Fear."

"You're afraid that if you don't hurt David, something worse will happen," Ptonomy says. "And the other part of you? What's driving that need?"

"Anger," Amahl says, baring his teeth. "Rage." He glares at David, at the other David, and there's something genuinely Farouk in him that makes David shiver.

"Is the Farouk part of you what feels the rage?" Ptonomy asks.

"Mostly," Amahl admits. "Not all of it."

"But you feel more in control with that anger?" Ptonomy says.

"Yes," Amahl says.

"You're angry," Oliver says to Farouk. "Is anger what drove you to attack Charles?"

"This is absurd," Farouk says, rolling his eyes.

"He has thirty years of your memories," Oliver points out. "It only seems natural that you'd share the same feelings. Do you even remember how you felt?"

"I felt nothing," Farouk says, certain. "Charles was nothing. A gnat."

"Then why try to destroy him?" Oliver asks.

"Who wants a gnat buzzing around?" Farouk asks. "If a fly lands on your meal, you kill it."

"That's all he was to you?" Oliver asks, surprised. "He was a powerful mutant, like you."

Farouk scoffs. "He was nothing like me. Un enfant."

"As we all were, at one time," Oliver says. "Perhaps if I hadn't lived halfway around the world, you would have invited me to your palace."

"You think very highly of yourself, my friend," Farouk says, his teeth bared.

"There's that anger," Oliver says, knowing. "It's important for you to be the strongest, the most powerful. You killed many powerful mutants before they could challenge you. And then you ended up trapped inside a baby. A helpless infant was stronger than you. That must have been humiliating. But years went by and David became stronger than you'd ever been. Perhaps-- The only way you could accept David being more powerful than you-- Was to believe that he was you, and you were him."

"Ridiculous," Farouk says, unimpressed.

"Then why can't you let him go?" Oliver says. "Why do you need him, when that version of you over there never needed anyone?"

Farouk refuses to answer.

"You were trapped inside of him for decades," Oliver says, sympathetic. "To experience the world through David, as David, for so long-- Anyone would find their sense of self-- A little shaky. You shared my body for a year, and I believe even that was enough to-- Influence your thinking. Being a parasitic soul, and the detachment syndrome-- It's important to recognize that you are a person who has suffered greatly and been changed by that suffering. Because that means you have the choice to change in other ways."

When Farouk doesn't answer, Oliver turns to Amahl. "The parts of you that aren't Farouk-- Where were they before?"

"In us," Divad admits. "Mostly in me."

"So you've been present for your system's therapy," Oliver says. "How do you feel about it?"

Amahl shrugs. "It wasn't for me. Divad didn't want me. David didn't want me."

"They didn't want to hurt their system," Oliver says, understanding. "And you were the parts of them that fed that compulsion. So when your system shattered-- They rejected you?"

"We didn't want to be them anyway," Amahl mutters.

"You're a system," Ptonomy says, gently. "No matter how many pieces that system is in, no matter how those pieces are arranged, collectively you are still one system. You are a part of the David Haller system that has suffered, just like they have." He gestures at Dvd and Divad and both Davids. "Don't you want to be with your headmates?"

"They don't want to be with me," Amahl says, certain.

"Because you're Amahl?" Ptonomy asks. "What about when those Amahl memories are gone?"

Amahl just shakes his head.

"How about we ask them?" Ptonomy says. "In fact, I think there's a part of your system that really needs you right now."

Amahl looks over at them, confused, and then-- He sees the other David, looking back at him with longing.

"We can't," Amahl says, tightly. "Being Joonam--"

"You don't have to fuse to be together," Ptonomy says. "David and Dvd used to be together all the time, and they didn't fuse. Right?"

"Yes, but--" Amahl starts, gives a frustrated huff.

"Your system needs to start letting go of Farouk," Ptonomy says. "You can help it do that. Sometimes when a part of us goes away, we need-- A sufficiently therapeutic prosthetic."

Amahl furrows his brow. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying-- When we get back, things are probably gonna be a little wild at first. Farouk and the Divisions made a hell of a mess down there. I don't think we'll have time for Divad to take those memories out right away, because we need your system to help us clean up that mess."

"So I have to stay Amahl?" Amahl asks, unhappy.

"Just for a bit," Ptonomy says. "But pretty soon your system will be grieving. Especially David. And maybe by being Amahl-- You can help David, help all of them. And when you're ready, Divad can take those memories away and you can be who you want to be next. How does that sound?"

"I'm not used to helping," Amahl says, uncertain.

"Isn't that what you were always trying to do?" Ptonomy points out. "You were trying to protect them from something worse. Now you have a better way to protect them. Give it a try."

Amahl looks at his headmates and hesitates.

"It's okay," David says, and gestures for him to join them. He turns to the other David. "It's okay, right?"

The other David just stares at Amahl.

Amahl walks up to them, wary. He stops in front of the other David. "I'm sorry about Joon--" Amahl starts, but before he can finish, the other David hugs him and holds on tight.

"I'm not him," Amahl says, softly, pained. "I don't want to be him."

"I know," the other David says, voice muffled against Amahl's shoulder. "But--" He cuts off, unable to continue. David can feel the other David's need, his longing for-- Who Farouk pretended to be, in that lab dream. Even though it was all a trick--

And Amahl feels it, too. He relaxes and holds the other David back.

Dvd frowns, displeased, but then gives a long-suffering sigh of acceptance. "Ptonomy better be right," he mutters to Divad and David.

Divad elbows Dvd and David, and they turn to see that Farouk is staring at Amahl and the other David and visibly seething.

"Jealous?" Oliver asks Farouk, amused.

"Not at all," Farouk says, hiding the jealousy behind a placid smile. "It's reassuring to see such proof that David loves his father, needs him."

Oliver gives a thoughtful hum. He turns to David and his headmates. "I think it's time to show you the rest of this memory. If you'll step aside?" He gestures for them to step away from the frozen figure of Charles Xavier, and once they do-- "Charles went to the cafe knowing Farouk was a threat, a terrifying threat. But fighting in the War had taught him to stand against his enemies. And a man like Farouk, who would tear out souls and torture children--" He shakes his head. "He had to be stopped."

"The arrogance of a white man," Farouk says, dismissive. "I was a good king, strong but just. And he comes, knowing nothing of our customs, our history. And he decides that he knows better."

"He didn't just show up," David says, annoyed by the familiar speech. "You invited him! You lured him here so you could kill him!" It's infuriating that he ever believed Farouk even a tiny bit. Every word out of his mouth has always been a lie, a manipulation.

"Gentlemen," Oliver says, intervening. "Let's see the truth ourselves."

Oliver snaps his fingers and the cafe comes to life. The hanging fans turn slowly, adding a breeze to the hot, dry air. Sounds filter in from the busy street outside, people talking, selling, the occasional old-fashioned car horn.

A cafe server appears mid-stride, tray in hand. He walks past Charles and then disappears again. Charles and the memory Farouk stare at each other, and Charles walks towards Farouk's table.

"Please, have a seat," memory Farouk says, gesturing to the empty seat opposite. "Have some food. You must be hungry, please."

Charles sits, but he doesn't touch the food. He looks at the two women clinging to Farouk's sides, and they smile blandly back at him. David suspects Farouk did something to their minds. But that makes him think of what he did to Syd, and he's hit with a fresh wave of regret. He never wants to be like Farouk, never.

"When I woke this morning, I was quite surprised," memory Farouk says. "It's unusual for a guest to depart in the dead of night. Was there an emergency? Surely I can help."

"Of a sort," Charles says, with a tight politeness. "Perhaps you can explain why-- The monkey. Those children. You've turned them into living prisons for your enemies." As he says the last, his anger and horror break through his politeness.

"I am their king," memory Farouk says, unruffled. "Do you question the judgement of your own king?"

"I do, actually," Charles says. "And I'm fairly sure that your 'people' would question your judgement if you allowed them to. How many minds have you altered? These women, do they have any choice at all?"

"When you step on an ant on the street, do you weep?" memory Farouk challenges. He picks up a leg from his roast chicken. "Do you grieve for your food every meal? Please, Charles. We are so much greater than them. We are gods."

"And that makes all of this all right, does it?" Charles asks, upset.

Memory Farouk chuckles. "Do you think I'm some fool who has never left his home? I have traveled all over the world, I have lived in your countries. France, Germany-- You English are the same. Your people destroyed my country, piece by piece, and then played the hero to 'save' us from ourselves. Bah!" He gives a dismissive wave. "I am stronger than your armies. Why should I wait for you to join them and fight against me?"

"I don't want to fight you," Charles says, genuinely. "There are so few like us. I wanted us to be friends, to help each other."

"Ah, but not anymore?" memory Farouk says.

"What you've done to those children-- It's monstrous," Charles says.

"God is monstrous," memory Farouk replies. "Every day, he makes millions die, billions suffer. And yet the world worships him. Perhaps some day I will be stronger than God. Will you worship me then?"

Charles rubs at his face, upset. "The world is a harsh place, I know that very well. But more cruelty isn't the answer. Wars end. Peace can be made. We can-- Respect each other's right to exist."

"Ah, then you will walk away?" memory Farouk challenges. "Let me continue to rule my people, to grow stronger?"

"Will you let me walk away?" Charles challenges. "All I want to do is raise my son in peace."

"If that was all you wanted, you would not have come," memory Farouk says.

Charles pauses. "You're right, I do want more. The horrors I saw in the war-- I believe it's possible to make a better world. What are these powers for if not that? They're a gift, I don't know from where but-- We should use them for something greater than ourselves. If you care about your people, your country-- Don't you want that too?"

"You want to be friends?" memory Farouk asks, with a mocking tone.

"We could be," Charles says. "Free the minds of the people you're controlling. Free the souls you've trapped in those children and animals. The world is unjust, yes. So let us work together to make it just. It's not too late."

"And all I have to do is give up everything I have?" memory Farouk says, still mocking. "No. Time to dance." And he reaches out--

The memory freezes again, and David feels at a loss, just like he does whenever he listens to Farouk. "Why did you show us this?" he asks, Oliver.

"How did it make you feel?" Oliver asks.

"How did it--" David starts, and huffs in exasperation. "How's it supposed to make me feel? Farouk did the same thing to my dad that he did to me, exactly the same. You think he's gonna change? I'm sorry, Oliver, I know you want this but-- Look at him." He gestures at the memory Farouk, at the real Farouk. "Maybe he wasn't obsessed with me back then but-- He's the same, he's exactly the same."

"I'm afraid he is," Oliver says. "But that raises the question. If he hasn't changed, then how could he need you to be himself?"

David stares at the memory Farouk again, and it feels like-- One of those optical illusions of a vase, and then you look again and-- It's two faces. He turns to Divad, who seems equally surprised.

"He's right," Divad says.

"He can't be the same," the other David says, visibly confused. "I changed him, he said-- It was my fault he--" He turns to Amahl for an explanation.

Amahl shrugs, shakes his head. "I don't remember my life before David."

"He lied," Dvd says, and breaks into a grin. "That asshole fucking lied, of course he did!"

"But we trapped him inside us," the other David protests. "He lived inside us for so long, how could he not-- How could he be the same?"

"Because that's who he is," David says, the realization settling in him now. "He's just-- Who he's always been. For centuries. Why did we ever think Farouk would change? He gleefully tortured us until the moment Syd pulled him free. And he kept doing it and--"

"We thought it was because he cared," Divad says, soberly. "We thought he hurt us because of what we did to him but it was just-- Power."

Just power. David feels-- Strangely upset. Farouk dominated their existence, made himself so important to them, but to him-- "Is it true?" he asks Farouk, wanting him to say no, wanting Farouk to say-- Of course he needs them, loves them, even if that love is twisted and wrong.

"You're my son," Farouk insists. "I need you." But it feels false, empty. After seeing that memory-- Farouk's words don't make David feel any better. David looks to his headmates and sees-- They feel the same. Even Dvd. Even Amahl.

"I'm sorry," Oliver tells them, genuinely. "But you needed to see this. There are no missing limbs. Farouk is whole unto himself, and so is your system. Yes, your shared time changed him, but no more than any trauma changes a person. That wholeness you felt together, as a system-- You never needed Farouk to feel that way."

"How are you feeling?" Ptonomy asks them.

"Kinda sick," David admits. He sits down at one of the tables and rubs his face, breathes. His headmates pull out chairs and sit down, too. He feels-- He feels like-- "Like the rug just got pulled out from under me."

"Take your time," Ptonomy says. "Let yourself process this."

"It's not true," the other David protests, upset. "Why would he-- Everything he said-- Why would he--"

"I remember needing David," Amahl says. "I needed him to be whole."

"Because Farouk believes that," Oliver says. "But that doesn't make it true. That's his delusion, a consequence of his possession of you. You needed to see him as he was before, to understand that."

He's the same. He's exactly the same. David realizes that on some level-- He needed to believe Farouk's story. Monster and prey, torturer and victim, villain and hero. It made everything make sense. It made him feel-- Loved, needed, when he felt worthless. And the caring and the punishment--

That was the cycle. The lessons Farouk taught them. Suffer and Farouk will love them for their suffering, their pain. A sick, twisted love, and yet-- It was all they knew. It felt right. All this therapy has been helping them stop repeating it, but this part of it went deeper. It was in their foundations all along. And not having it there-- It's like stepping down onto nothing.

No. Not nothing.

"How long until he runs out of stolen life?" David asks Oliver.

"Actually, he should have already," Oliver says.

"What?" Ptonomy says, surprised.

Farouk chuckles, laughs. "I am Amahl Farouk. I am a god." He grabs the bars of his cage. "Now let me out."

"Does he still have a host?" Ptonomy asks.

Oliver walks around the cage, inspecting Farouk. "No," he decides. "But on the astral plane-- Reality is a matter of will. And Farouk's will is very strong."

"This fucker can't die?" Lenny asks, not happy at all.

"It takes enormous effort to self-sustain like this," Oliver says, frowning with thought. "He must have a focus, something that drives him."

"Just surviving isn't enough?" Ptonomy asks.

"It's me," David realizes. "It's us. Right? He won't die because he wants us."

"He's not gonna get us," Dvd says, defiant.

"We need to make him let us go," Divad says.

"Yeah, and how are we gonna do that?" Dvd asks. "We can't get in there to change his mind."

There's a pause and then-- "Actually, we can," Amahl says. "As I told you before. When we were young, we acted as one. We made it impossible for Farouk to become King."

"Yeah, but how?" Dvd asks.

"Amahl," Ptonomy says, eager. "Tell us how it felt. How Farouk felt, when he tried to be King again."

Amahl closes his eyes, concentrates. "There was this-- Feeling. Terror. Trying to be King-- He felt terrified." He opens his eyes. "Because-- That was how we felt about King."

"You were just kids," Ptonomy says. "You were acting-- On instinct. You lashed out at the monster and made him feel what you were feeling."

"So we can change his mind?" Dvd asks.

"I don't want to do that," David says, upset at the suggestion. It reminds him of Syd, of those women Farouk brainwashed.

"Maybe we don't have to," Divad says. "If his drive to claim us is what's keeping him alive-- All we need to do is-- Interrupt that."

Dvd gives a thoughtful hum. "So we share our feelings with him, and he shrivels up and dies? Sounds great to me."

"There is another option," Oliver says. "He could accept his body's death and move on, dance freely in the cosmic field of multidimensions with no outer limits to speak of. But he'd have to let you go." He turns to Farouk. "What do you think? A fair challenge?"

"Very fair," Farouk says. "If you let me out first."

David looks to his headmates. "We win either way, right?"

"David," Amy says, stepping forward. "Are you sure about this?"

"I think I am," David says. He stands and hugs her though, glad she's here. "We're gonna be okay." He lets Amy go. "Everyone else stand back."

His headmates stand and join him, and they join hands. But it's only the four of them, not five.

"Amahl," David says, warmly. "C'mon, you too."

Amahl hesitates, but the other David says, "Please," and Amahl joins the circle.

'It's not about love this time,' David guides them. 'It's about-- Letting go. Moving on. We don't need him to be whole and we never did. He doesn't need us. We're not one vase, we're two separate people.' And he shares the image of the optical illusion with them. 'Can we all feel this together?'

'I don't want to hurt him,' the other David admits.

'It's not going to hurt,' David thinks. 'It will feel like-- Acceptance. Like it did for us.'

'Acceptance kinda hurt,' the other David thinks, but he takes a breath, lets it out. 'Okay. Let's do it.'

All five of them feel each other, share their thoughts and emotions together and work to match them. They breathe together, synchronizing, and think about-- Letting go of Farouk. Being ready to move on, ready to start their new life. Untangling themselves from Farouk and being whole as themselves.

They are five parts of one mind, one soul, one body. And all of them are ready to say goodbye.

They step together and merge into each other, into one astral form. And then they turn and face Farouk.

The moon and the sun. The sun never needed the moon, they're nothing alike. The moon's just a rock, floating in the vastness of space. It's so small.

"Are you ready?" they ask him, calmly.

"Do you think your feelings can stop me?" Farouk scoffs. "I decide what is real and what is not. My will. Open this cage and I will make you mine."

They open the cage. Farouk steps out and reaches for them and--

They share how they feel with each other. They send that feeling out like a bolt of lightning into Farouk, they let him feel how they feel. It's not the pain they give back to the monster, but the absence of it. The desire to be done, to be finished. For the cycle to stop for good. Because they simply don't need to be together. They are separate and whole unto themselves.

The vase becomes two faces.

Farouk stares at them, stunned, bereft. And then-- He dissolves into black dust, and the dust settles into a pile on the floor.

It's over. He's gone.

They release from their harmony and separate back into five. And Dvd steps forward and raises his hand, and burns every atom of Farouk's dead soul out of existence.

Chapter 204: Night: You experienced his body's death. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd stands in the airlock and looks back out at the white room. She looks at Oliver and Melanie embracing, fully together again after decades apart. And she looks at David.

David looks back and they share a wordless moment. But Syd doesn't feel wordless. There's so much inside her, so many questions. She and David were only apart for a few hours but in those few hours their world ended and somehow put itself back together again in some new configuration that she's barely had a chance to grasp. Even as part of that new configuration has a tight grip on her hand.

She'd accepted Dvd and Divad, and she was finally getting used to Past David. And now-- There's this child David, so young and terrified, and-- A version of Amahl Farouk. How can David's system survive having a version of Amahl Farouk inside it?

Maybe it's a mistake to take herself out of the game, to hide in here like a glorified babysitter. So what if Farouk doesn't have a body anymore? So what if she doesn't have any powers on the astral plane? David needs her, he's always needed her, he can't do this without her, he--

And then Melanie steps into the airlock and closes the heavy door, locks it. An emergency light comes on, illuminating the inner door.

"How about you show us those stars?" Melanie says.

Child David looks at them with those familiar, big blue eyes, and stares at the inner airlock door, then at Melanie again. Melanie grabs the steel ring and turns it. With a heave she pushes the door open, and they follow her inside.

"Oh!" Melanie says, and she's suddenly floating, they're all floating. Child David lets go of her hand and floats freely, giggling as he turns upside-down.

"Space station," Syd mutters, realizing, as the ends of her hair float up around her head. And it is, in fact, a space station, a surprisingly realistic one, if a little out of date. The interior is made of steel and white plastic and curves, revealing the round shape of the station. There's a wall of control panels filled with switches and CRT readouts and glowing lights. There are open doorways on either side of the room. She looks back and the airlock door is already shut.

"What a wonderful space station!" Melanie says, pleased. She's floated up too, and she's holding onto one of the long rods that are regularly spaced along the walls. "How about a tour?"

Child David bumps into the ceiling, giggles again, and floats back down. Syd reaches out to catch him, but the momentum carries both of them and they bounce against the floor before floating up again, spinning. Syd flails, a little panicked, but then they're grabbed and pushed, and Syd's hand is guided to a rod.

"It takes some getting used to," Melanie says, as Syd steadies herself.

"You've been to space?" Syd asks, surprised.

"Oliver and I had quite the whirlwind courtship," Melanie says, with a hint of a blush. "The memories are all-- Vividly fresh." She sobers. "There so much that-- I let myself forget."

Child David squirms in Syd's grip and she lets him go. He grabs a rod and pulls himself along it, adapting quickly. To have created this station so easily-- Syd knew that David loved the stars as a child, loved space travel. It must have been such an escape for him, a dream of-- Safety, freedom. Far away from the monster inside him.

Child David goes still, tense. He looks back at her, and Syd realizes-- Of course. Past David has telepathy, too.

"David?" Melanie calls, concerned. "Is something wrong?"

Child David shakes his head, but then pushes off, away from them and into the next room. Melanie starts to push off to go after him, but Syd stops her.

"It's my fault," Syd admits. "I thought about the monster and-- He heard."

"Ah," Melanie says, understanding. "Helping telepathic patients, especially young ones-- There are unique challenges."

"Maybe I should go," Syd says, eyeing the airlock door again.

Melanie gives Syd a considering look. "No. You're staying."

"I don't want to upset him," Syd protests.

"Syd," Melanie says, lowering her voice. "You and Lenny killed Farouk right in front of him. That moment was violent and traumatic but-- You're an incredibly powerful figure for David right now. He needs you here."

It feels good to hear that. Syd wants to protect David, to keep him safe. She's always wanted that. And yet--

Melanie's expression softens. "What you did-- That must have been very difficult."

Syd doesn't answer. "We shouldn't leave him alone," she says, and pushes off to find child David.

The next room is clearly the living quarters, and Syd is surprised that it's just as utilitarian as the control room. No astronaut wallpaper or rocket lamp or space posters, only a small eating area, a door to some kind of space bathroom, and a single bed. Child David is sitting just above the white mattress covered with straps. It reminds Syd uncomfortably of Clockworks, even though of course restraints are necessary for sleeping in zero gravity. She eyes them warily before focusing on child David. He's still tense, closed up.

"Hey," she says, gently. With a little difficulty, she swims to the bed and grabs a strap, uses it to pull herself down beside him. Child David is holding on to a strap, too. "This is nice."

Child David doesn't respond.

To Syd's relief, Melanie enters through the doorway. She gracefully maneuvers to the bed and floats in front of child David. "Would you like to rest?" she asks him. "You've had a very busy day."

Child David shakes his head.

"Okay," Melanie says. "Can you tell me something about this room? For our tour? It looks like you eat here. Can you tell me what you like to eat?"

Child David doesn't answer.

"How about a treat?" Melanie asks. "How about-- Astronaut ice cream?"

Child David perks up a little.

"Hmm, where would it be?" Melanie asks, looking around the eating area. "I bet it's in-- Here!" And she opens a cupboard to find a set of silver packets. She pulls it out and opens it, and offers it. "Neapolitan. That's my favorite too, you get all the flavors together. Would you like some?"

Child David pushes off the bed and goes right to Melanie. He takes the block of freeze-dried ice cream and starts eating it.

Syd finds herself relaxing, too. David and his sweet tooth. At least that hasn't changed.

"So there's the control room back there," Melanie says. "And this is where you sleep and eat. What's in that room? Shall we go look?"

The two of them maneuver into the next room. Syd follows them and then stops, surprised. The room is clearly some kind of science lab, with a microscope and chemistry equipment and even a light box filled with plants. And at the center, incongruous with all the steel and white, is a simple wooden desk and chair. There's a small work lamp with a glass shade, and photos of planets and galaxies pinned to the wall. A telescope sits on one corner.

Melanie stares at the desk, too. "I think I've seen this before. David-- Is this your father's desk? From home?"

Child David's chin starts to tremble, and he bursts into tears.

Melanie pulls him close. "Oh David," she says, and rubs his back, soothing.

The remains of the freeze-dried ice cream float over to Syd. She catches it and pushes over to the desk, curious. There are papers, a pen, but nothing's floating away. She puts the ice cream on the desk and it stays.

David's father, his adoptive father. Simon Haller. Farouk took away most of David's memories of his adoptive parents, but this child part of him-- He must remember Simon and Ruth fully.

A drop of water lands on Syd's arm, and she realizes-- It's one of child David's tears. There's a few more floating in the air. For some reason-- It makes Syd feel like she can't breathe. She remembers holding her breath as her tea kettle boiled, over and over for months and months while she waited for David to be found. What if it all goes wrong? What if David's system isn't strong enough to stop Farouk? What if she loses him again?

"Syd," Melanie says, urgently, and Syd opens her eyes and takes a gasping breath.

"I'm okay," Syd mutters, and tries to pull herself back together. It's not like her to fall apart like this, they can't afford for her to fall apart at all.

Child David is still crying, and Melanie holds him, rubs his back, hushes him. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

Child David cries harder, his little body trembling even though he's holding Melanie so tight. Syd struggles for some way to help, to stop this part of David from being in so much pain, what if child David's sadness affects the rest of his system, what if--

"Cassiopeia," Melanie says. "The queen of the sky. And Andromeda, big, cosmic Andromeda. A whole galaxy inside her, but she's Cassiopeia's daughter. Right?"

Child David's crying eases, though it doesn't stop. "Uh-huh," he says, voice thick with tears.

"And then there's Bootes," Melanie continues. "Driving his plow across the sky, night after night. And Telescopium, just like the telescope on your daddy's desk, right?"

Child David rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. He looks at the telescope but doesn't answer.

"You know, I haven't seen a single window yet," Melanie says, "How about you make us a window so we can use that telescope? Show us the stars?"

Syd looks around the room and realizes that Melanie is right. There haven't even been those tiny circular windows that old space stations like this had. They're completely isolated. It must be a reflection of how child David feels right now. This whole station is an extension of him, of his mind, his needs. But Simon's desk is the first piece of it that actually feels personal.

"How about we try the next room?" Melanie asks, and pushes off the wall to carry them through the next doorway.

Syd follows them, pulling herself along the wall rods, and on the other side--

The view is stunning. A huge viewing window reveals the blue marble of the Earth below them, caught between day and night, and around them the sky is impossibly full of stars.

"Oh, how wonderful," Melanie says, her voice warm and happy. "I'm sure your daddy would have loved to see this with you."

Child David gives a heavy sob at that, but he's already cried himself out.

"How about we sit down?" Melanie asks. And just like that, a couch appears, tan and overstuffed. Melanie maneuvers down onto it and sits, and like the ice cream on the desk, she stays put. She pats the seat beside her.

Syd doesn't sit down. She still feels like she needs to hold her breath. But she's breathing, in and out. She's breathing.

"Would you like to lie down?" Melanie asks.

Child David gives a tired nod. He puts his head on Melanie's lap, and then stretches out his legs, taking up the rest of the couch.

"Andromeda," Melanie says, in a soft croon. "Cassiopeia. Bootes. Telescopium."

Child David closes his eyes, and falls asleep. Melanie strokes his hair gently, soothing.

"You're so good with him," Syd says, unable to keep the jealousy from her voice.

"I remember walking through his memories," Melanie points out. "And I remember being a mother." She gives a wry, sad smile.

Syd decides to not comment on that motherhood.

"He should be out for a while," Melanie says. "Are you ready to talk?"

"About what?"

Melanie gives her a familiar look.

Syd wants to walk away, to pace, to get away from Melanie and child David and all of this. The last thing she wants is to talk about any of what's happened.

"Do we have to?" she asks, half-pleading.

"You know we do," Melanie says, with some of that therapist sternness Syd knows so well. Not the depressed and bitter Melanie, not the brainwashed Melanie Farouk. The real Melanie Bird. And the relief of having her back--

"Fine," Syd agrees, barely. But that's all she can manage.

"How about we start at the beginning?" Melanie says. "Clark came into to arrest us, and you and Oliver disappeared. What happened next?"

Syd looks down at the turning Earth below them. She closes her eyes and takes herself back. Cary's lab, the amplification tank, hearing the Davids scream as Past David's memories were transferred. David's limp body in the infirmary, the crown on his head, the overwhelming fear of what would happen when he opened his eyes, if he would open them at all. And when he finally did--

"We knew-- Oliver and I--" Syd starts. "We knew David was compromised. Farouk was coming and the Divisions couldn't stop him. So we needed a plan, and to hide. I can't shield my thoughts so-- We swapped. And I held the swap."

"That must have been very difficult," Melanie says.

"Not really," Syd admits. After swapping with the Admiral, being in the mainframe-- Oliver was easy. "I was able to use the powers in Oliver's body to shield my mind, and Oliver used his astral powers to shield himself in my body."

"Elegant," Melanie approves. "And then you came up with the rescue plan?"

Syd nods. "Oliver was sure that-- Farouk couldn't actually be inside of David. Not yet." She pauses. "We had a plan to use my powers to separate Farouk's soul from his body. But we needed to-- We had to wait for Farouk to show himself, to be distracted."

"When he tried to invade Joonam," Melanie says.

"David," Syd corrects, firmly. She won't play along with Farouk's identity games. "Once he was inside David again-- His soul was stretched between two bodies. Like the Karies." She feels a jolt of guilt and pushes it down. "Touching him pulled out both parts of his soul and moved them to my body." She braces herself against what came next. She's fine, she's completely fine. It wasn't her body that died.

"Was Lenny part of the plan?" Melanie asks.

"No," Syd admits. "I was going to-- But Lenny-- She showed up happy to help." She gives a bitter smile.

"She shot you," Melanie says, gently.

"It was Farouk's body," Syd insists.

"Of course," Melanie says. "But Syd, you were the one who had to experience his body's death. Not him."

"I didn't feel anything," Syd says. "Lenny made sure of that." Without the protection of his soul, Farouk's body was defenseless against a hail of machine gun bullets. He died instantly. She just wishes she could have killed his soul too, and saved David from having to fight Farouk again.

Syd looks back the way they came.

"Worried about David?" Melanie asks.

"Of course I am," Syd says, with feeling. "He was finally getting better and now--" Her throat tightens, and she swallows. "We shouldn't have sent him out there. It's too dangerous for him, he has-- There's a copy of Farouk inside him!"

Child David stirs a little, and Syd shuts up as Melanie soothes him.

Syd should have stopped Farouk from violating David again, invading his body and his mind, breaking him into even more pieces. She should've stopped all of it. She promised to protect him and in the end she couldn't do anything. She looks at child David and all she sees is her own failure.

She can't just-- Float here, doing nothing. She has to go back. She starts to pull herself along the rods, back the way they came.

"Syd," Melanie calls after her, but Syd ignores her.

She's finally getting the hang of zero g, and pushes herself off the wall and through the doorway. She just has to get to David. He's the one who should be hiding in here, not her. They have to kill Farouk, get rid of the Amahl alter, and then--

She reaches the airlock, the heavy metal door. She grabs the steel ring and tries to turn it, but it's stuck. She braces herself and tries again.

"Syd!" Melanie calls, worried. She floats towards Syd, but too fast, and they collide. They're sent spinning, dizzying, and then they stop. Syd looks up to see Melanie's grabbed a rod.

"Sorry about that," Melanie says. "You all right?"

Syd straightens herself out. "I have to get to David," she says, and maneuvers back to the door, tries to turn the ring again. It's still stuck.

"Let me help," Melanie offers, and tries to turn it with her. Nothing. She looks back at the doorway. "I think David has to open it."

Syd gives a groan of frustration.

"Syd, it's going to be all right," Melanie soothes.

"No, it's not," Syd says, her certainty coming from the pit of dread in her gut. She wants to scream but she keeps her voice low. "David shouldn't be out there where Farouk can get to him again. We need to keep him safe."

"Because he can't protect himself?" Melanie asks. "What about Dvd and Divad? David isn't facing this alone, he has his system, he has Oliver."

"That's not enough," Syd says.

"Syd," Melanie says, with a kind exasperation. "I'm worried too. But I trust Oliver. I trust David and his system. You know how much they've all worked to heal, to be ready for this. You already did so much to stop Farouk. You don't have to do it all."

Yes, she does, Syd wants to say. She needs to be David's protector, she needs it. But she doesn't say it. She just needs to hold her breath, to hold it until the door opens and her David comes back.

But she can't. Her lungs burn and she has to breathe, she has to breathe and it feels like failure, it feels like it's all her fault if he never comes back.

"Syd," Melanie says, gentle with concern.

Melanie reaches out to hug her, and Syd flinches and pulls away, suddenly angry. "Don't touch me," she says, teeth bared.

"I'm sorry," Melanie says, raising her hands in apology. "I should have asked. I just--"

"You're not my mom," Syd says, the words childish and spiteful on her tongue, but she's so angry. "Farouk brainwashed you. That doesn't make it real."

Melanie looks quietly hurt. "I know that," she says, accepting.

"Good," Syd says. "Let's wake up child David and get out of here."

"No," Melanie says, firmly. "He needs to rest, and we need to keep him away from that fight. You want to keep David safe? That's the part of him that we're responsible for, and it's a very important part."

"Fine," Syd says, tightly. "You take care of him. I'll find a way out of here."

Melanie does not look impressed, but then she softens. "You're worried. You're afraid. And all of this-- It feels like it did before. When David was missing."

Syd stares at Melanie, refusing to show any reaction. Daring her to continue.

"I remember now," Melanie reminds her. "Our sessions. How hard it was for you. The guilt you felt for-- Not being able to stop David from being taken by the orb."

"Well it turns out I'm the one who took him," Syd says. "So it was my fault."

"I wish we could have talked to your future self," Melanie says. "We could've learned so much from her. We could've helped her. But that future she was a part of-- I think that's gone now."

"Good," Syd says, glad. Future Syd is dead, and soon, hopefully, Farouk will be completely dead, too. She'll finally have control over her own life again. Or she would if she could just open the damn door.

She glances back the way they came, towards child David, and can't bring herself to face him.

"I may not be your mom," Melanie says, with wry acceptance. "But I am still your therapist. Talk to me, Syd."

"There's nothing to say," Syd says. "David's in danger and I'm stuck in here. You expect me to be happy about that?"

"It's a difficult situation for all of us," Melanie agrees. "But that's not why you're panicking."

"I'm not--" Syd starts, defensive, but she knows Melanie is right. She hates that she's panicking, that she feels like she did that whole year David was gone. Holding her breath as her tea kettle boiled, telling herself over and over that if she held it long enough, David would come home.

It was a way for her to hurt herself, she knows that. Like cutting herself with blunt scissors as a teenager. Like her old foundation, telling her that love made her weak and pain made her strong. She's supposed to use her foundation and her mantra when she's hurting herself, just like David and his system do. She's supposed to soothe herself. That's why-- That's why Melanie made her get a therapy cat.

"I miss Matilda," Syd admits. Even though petting her means feeling needles under her skin, Matilda is soft and soothing, warm and purring. Uncomplicated.

With everything that's happened, Syd doesn't even know if Matilda is okay. Syd's a terrible cat owner. But she's not good at caring for anything, even herself.

"I miss her too," Melanie says. "Tell me what you're afraid of."

"Farouk's going to get to David again," Syd says, the words pushing out of her. "And even if Farouk dies-- He's going to change David again. Change who he is. Like he changed you." She forces herself to breathe in, out, in. "I was-- When I met David, when I fell in love with him-- That David wasn't-- He wasn't real." And it hurts, her heart hurts so much. "And I'm trying. I have to accept-- Who he is. But who he is keeps changing. Sometimes I feel like-- He's so far away."

Her eyes feel damp and she closes them, fighting back the tears.

"And you don't want to lose him," Melanie says, understanding. "I know he doesn't want to lose you."

"Maybe it's not up to him," Syd says. "Farouk hates me. I killed his body. David could come back and-- Not even know who I am." Melanie looks pained, and belatedly Syd realizes. "I didn't mean--"

"No, you're right," Melanie says. "That's exactly what I went through with Oliver. I thought I knew who he was, but he changed. The astral plane, detachment syndrome-- We didn't know, back then. I blamed myself. If I'd stopped him from going to the astral plane, if I'd protected him-- And I thought, maybe he left because he never loved me in the first place." She pauses. "Even without-- Mutant powers and people like Farouk-- Relationships are difficult. But to be with someone, to love them-- That's a choice we make. A choice both you and David make. Right now he's trusting you to take care of a very important part of him, a very vulnerable part. That's how much he loves you. I think the question you're asking yourself is if you can love him back."

"Maybe it is," Syd admits, unhappily. "I'm not good at love."

"Are you?" Melanie challenges. "Or is that a story you tell yourself so you don't have to try?"

Syd raises her eyebrows. "Sounds like something Ptonomy would say."

"Well, I did teach him everything he knows," Melanie says, lightly. "Love is a choice. It's also a skill. Something that takes practice, especially if no one teaches it to us when we need it most. But every time you reach out to someone or accept care, you get a little better at it. At loving and being loved. So it's okay to be bad at it, as long as you keep trying to be better."

"That sounds like Ptonomy too," Syd says, with a sigh. She misses Ptonomy. She hopes he'll be okay, that Lenny and Amy will be okay. She's barely thought of them since they were taken, she's been so worried about David. That's how she's been for the past year, worrying about David and no one else. But then before David, she didn't worry about anyone else at all.

She thinks about Amy hugging her in the stairwell, while David and Ptonomy had therapy in the garden. She thinks about doing touch therapy with Lenny. She thinks about all the times Ptonomy helped her despite the way she stubbornly refused his help every step of the way.

She accepts help. She gives and receives love. That's in her foundation now, even if it's hard for her to feel it.

The panic isn't as strong, she realizes. It's still there but it's fading, and beneath it--

"Past David," she starts, needing to talk about this before she's somewhere her David can hear her think it. "I didn't-- I thought David was going to have to become him, accept his memories. But now he's this-- Separate part of him. Another alter."

"Yes," Melanie agrees. "How do you feel about that?"

"Relieved," Syd admits. "I was afraid when David woke up-- He wouldn't be himself anymore." And for one terrifying night, that was true. But Joonam is gone. "David is still David," she says, a little wryly, then sobers. "But seeing Past David, knowing he's staying-- Reminds me that the David I fell in love with isn't him. He's not the David that Dvd and Divad knew. They found ways to connect, I saw that, but--" She looks to Melanie, hoping she'll understand.

"David is different than he was ten years ago," Melanie agrees. "Frankly it would be strange if he wasn't. Time changes all of us."

"It wasn't time that changed David," Syd says. "It was Farouk. The David I love-- Farouk made him, designed him. Rebuilt his memories, his sense of self."

"Like he did with me," Melanie says.

"Yes," Syd says, and looks away. "You were Melanie Farouk for a few days. And David has been who he is for ten years."

"So what does that mean to you?" Melanie asks.

"I don't know," Syd admits. "It means-- I fell in love with an illusion. It means over time, if David accepts more of Past David into himself-- He's going to become a different person. He won't be my David anymore. Because he was never meant to be my David." Her eyes are wet again, and again she pushes the tears back. "Farouk poisoned Past David against me. Maybe David won't even be able to love me anymore. Every time he thinks of me-- He'll think of Farouk. I'll be the one making him sick."

David thought of her so he could share his body with his headmates again. It made him so happy to do that, but it only scared her. And this is why. If Farouk poisons the positive memory David was using, then all that work would be undone. David's system might fall apart again, and then David would fall apart again. And it would be all her fault.

"Syd," Melanie says, concerned. "You're right, there's a lot of uncertainties. David's situation, the false memories and the real ones in Past David-- It's hard to say how that will change him. How it will change your relationship with him. But if what you're really afraid of is losing him-- Then you have to stop looking for reasons to run away."

"That's not--" Syd starts, defensive.

"It is," Melanie says. "And I understand, of course I do. Even before I lost Oliver-- Things weren't perfect between us. Being a mere human-- Oliver didn't mean to, but he could make me feel like I didn't belong in his grand vision. He would get so wrapped up in his work that he would leave me behind. Even with the best of intentions, he hurt me, and I remember that so clearly now. And I remember the good things. Losing him, losing myself-- I want to make the most of the time we have left. What you and David went through, what you lost-- Do you want to be like Future Syd, and let your fears and hurt consume you?"

"No," Syd says, certain. That's the last thing she wants.

"Good," Melanie says. "Then accept David for who he is now, and who he grows to be. Accept the other parts of him and love them as much as you can. And accept yourself, Syd. Because that's what's really holding you back. Stop punishing yourself and accept yourself as you are now, warts and all."

Syd takes that in. "What if I can't?"

"Well, as Ptonomy says, you just have to try," Melanie says. "C'mon, let's go back."

They maneuver back to the viewing room, and when they get there-- Child David is awake, sitting on the sofa, curled up with his arms around his legs. Syd's heart aches with how David he looks, how much like her Clockworks David, sweet and vulnerable and needy. And child David looks up at her with those same scared, big blue eyes, and for a moment she's back there, sitting next to David on the sofa, drawing him so she can try to understand him.

Maybe no matter how much David changes-- Maybe some core of him really is still the same. Maybe that part of him will always need her to love him.

Maybe she can do that.

"Hey," Syd says, softly. She sits next to child David and gravity reasserts itself, pulls her down. She breathes against the weight of her own body. She turns to child David and does what she always wanted to do, in Clockworks. She holds out her arms for him.

Child David immediately hugs her. He holds on so tight, her heart aches even more for him. But it's not the ache of pain wrapped around her heart, squeezing it into stillness. She feels so much, fear and worry and grief, relief and love and joy. She feels it all at once and it's confusing and she doesn't know what to do with any of it, so she just-- Tries to accept it. Good and bad, all of it. Instead of fighting it, she accepts it.

Before she knows it, child David is asleep in her arms, heavy and warm and full of so much trust. His steady breathing lulls her, and she realizes how tired she is, after hours, days, of hard work and fear and--

"You can rest," Melanie says. "It's okay. Just rest."

Syd doesn't want to, but she's so tired. She just needs-- She just needs to close her eyes for a minute--

There's a noise, something-- A knocking? Syd cracks open her eyes. She feels like she was out for hours; maybe she was. Child David is sprawled across her front, still asleep. There's a patch of drool on her shirt, under his cheek. Somehow it makes her feel-- Happy?

Melanie is already awake-- Or she might not have slept. "C'mon," Melanie says, and gives child David a little shake. "Time to wake up."

The knocking sound happens again. Child David stirs, yawns. He sits up and rubs his face. Then he perks up and climbs down from Syd and off the sofa, and runs out the door. Syd stands up and realizes-- There's still gravity, even away from the sofa.

She and Melanie follow after child David, and by the time they catch up to him, the airlock door is already swinging open. Syd barely has time to realize that could be a mistake, that if Farouk invaded David's mind they would be in danger, that--

And then Amy walks in. And at first sight of child David, she gasps and scoops him up and hugs him so tight.

"My Davey," she says, full of joy and a little grief.

"Amy," child David says, excited and relieved. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," Amy says. "Everything's okay now. Do you want to come out?"

"Okay," child David says.

"Amy," Melanie says, greeting her. "We're so glad you're safe. Is everything--"

"Everyone's okay," Amy says.

They follow her through the airlock, back into the white room. Everyone's there, Ptonomy and Lenny and Oliver, Dvd and Divad and Past David and-- Amahl, unfortunately. And David.

He's okay. He looks-- Tired, mostly, but also-- Calmer than she expected. Relieved, happy, and a little sad. And then he sees her, and immediately she sees that he loves her, that he needs her. No telepathy required. Because for all his secrets, he's never wanted to hide anything from her.

"Syd," David starts, and she can see he wants to tell her everything, and that everything must be a lot.

But she doesn't need to hear it, not yet. There's something more important. She walks up to him and hugs him. He gives a small start of surprise, then holds her back.

He's okay. Whatever happened with Farouk-- David's okay. He came back to her.

"I love you, okay?" Syd says, her heart aching.

"Okay," David says, happy and a little confused. "I love you, too."

And this time, when Syd's eyes grow damp, she finds she can let out a few tears.

Chapter 205: Day 15: Raising the dead. (Ptonomy)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy doesn't even blink, but in one moment they're in the white room, all together at last, and in the next-- They're back at Division 3, in the infirmary.

The room is calm when they arrive. A medic and a researcher are by the Admiral's bedside, monitoring his condition. Clark is here, too, sitting next to David's sleeping body. No one reacts to the sudden appearance of Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny, but then they wouldn't.

Lenny marches up to the Admiral. "Hey, job's done. The shit beetle's dead, give us our new bodies."

"He can't hear us," Ptonomy reminds her. "We're not in the mainframe anymore, we're in David."

"Yeah, and I want out of David," Lenny says, forcefully.

There's an edge of desperation in her eyes, and Ptonomy understands it. Being inside of David is nothing like being in the mainframe. There, they were protected, kept isolated from the Admiral's body and soul. A powerful force has pulled at Ptonomy from the moment they were rescued, urging him to conform to his new home.

The surface tension of the soul, Doctor Orwell called it. They're fighting to stay themselves, but it's so strong.

On the beds, Melanie and Oliver, Syd and David stir and open their eyes.

Clark goes still. "They're awake," he says into a handheld radio, voice low. He puts the radio down and stares at David intently.

David sees Clark and goes still.

"It'll be okay," Divad murmurs, soothing. David's headmates all chose to stay in the white room, Dvd and Divad taking care of the other David and child David. They also agreed that keeping Amahl away from D3 would be wise. But being part of David's body means Ptonomy can still hear them.

"Ah, it's good to be back," Oliver says. He stands and stretches, visibly relishing being in his body. Ptonomy feels a pang of jealousy.

"Oliver, we need our new bodies," Ptonomy says, fairly sure Oliver will hear him.

"Quite right," Oliver says. He looks at the unconscious Admiral, then turns to Clark. "I believe you have everything in order? Bodies, genetic material? For Ptonomy, Amy, and Lenny."

"Did we?" Clark says, in that calm, unhappy way of his. "I wouldn't know. The Admiral kept all our secrets. And now--" He gives a small shrug.

"You can't wake him up?" Oliver asks, concerned.

"What about the mainframe?" Melanie asks. "Can't you read it, scan the information?"

"Encrypted," Clark says, flatly. "We have access to the data feeds. We can see what's happening now. That's all."

"This is bullshit," Lenny says, with an edge of panic.

"There must be something we can do," Amy says. "Maybe-- If you put us back inside the mainframe, we can--"

"No," Lenny says, teeth bared. "No, I'm done being yanked around." She marches right up to David. "You owe me a body, David. Time to pay up."

"Back off," Dvd says, suddenly appearing next to David.

"What's going on?" Syd asks, concerned.

"It's okay," David says, to Syd and Dvd. "It's okay." He turns to Lenny. "You're right." He looks at Amy and Ptonomy. "I owe all of you so much. And I think-- I have an idea."

"All right, spill," Divad says, from the white room.

"It's like Cary's notebooks," David says. "And Kerry's equipment. The cafeteria food. I made astral copies of physical forms. I moved things between-- The different frequencies of reality. Maybe I can do something like that?" He gives a self-effacing shrug. "Worth a try?"

He holds out his hand to Lenny.

"I'm not a fucking notebook," Lenny says.

"I know," David says.

"Do you want me to go first?" Amy offers.

"Fuck off," Lenny mutters, but throws Amy an apologetic glance. Then she braces herself. "Do it," she tells David, and takes his hand.

David closes his eyes and concentrates.

"Someone want to tell me what's happening?" Clark asks, annoyed.

"Just watch," Oliver tells him.

Amy reaches over and takes Ptonomy's hand. Ptonomy grips back.

At first, nothing happens, or nothing Ptonomy can perceive. And then-- It's as if there's two Lennys, one overlaid on the other. And then the other Lenny goes blurry and disappears, and then--

Syd startles. "Lenny?"

"He made her astral form visible?" Melanie asks Oliver.

David's brow furrows with deep concentration, and then he lets Lenny go. Lenny steps back, uncertain, and bumps into one of the beds. She goes still, then turns and touches the bed. She touches her own face, her body. She sobs with relief.

"Is she?" Syd asks, reaching out. "Can I?" she asks Lenny.

Lenny grabs Syd's gloved forearm.

Syd's eyes go wide. "Needles. I feel--"

"I'm back," Lenny says, astonished. "I'm fucking back!" She turns back to David and grabs him by the arms. "Fuck yeah!"

David grins. "Fuck yeah," he agrees. "Okay, who's next?"

Amy looks to Ptonomy. Ptonomy nods. "Go on."

Amy takes David's hand, and the two share a meaningful look. Then David closes his eyes and concentrates again. And again, a second Amy appears over the first, then blurs and vanishes. And when David lets her go, she's alive again.

"Raising the dead," Ptonomy murmurs. David might not want to be called a god, but once this gets out--

David and Amy hug, and David lets out a muffled sob.

"My god." Doctor Orwell is standing in the doorway. "Amy, Lenny-- You're all right?"

Amy walks over to Doctor Orwell and holds out her hand. Doctor Orwell touches it, feels her pulse. "This body. Where did it come from?"

"David made it," Amy says.

Doctor Orwell looks at David with amazement, then turns back to Amy. "We have to-- Can I--" She shakes her head, overcome. "Where's Ptonomy? Is he all right? Did Farouk--"

"Farouk is dead," Oliver tells her. "Wholly dead. Ptonomy's right here." He gestures in the direction where he heard Ptonomy's voice.

"You're up," David tells Ptonomy, and offers his hand.

Ptonomy braces himself. This is the moment he's been waiting for. He's going back to his body, his real, living body. He won't have to fight to stay himself anymore, he'll just be himself. He'll have his life back. He'll have his powers back.

He hesitates, then forces himself to take David's hand.

It's just like before, with David concentrating. But this time Ptonomy feels his power. It's a strange feeling, impossible to name, and a sense of-- Resonance. He feels like he's vibrating, and then pulled down even though he's standing firmly on the ground. His stomach dips like he's on a rollercoaster, swinging down and then brought back up again. And then one more impossible sensation, like something being pushed into place around him, inside him, and then--

His heart, beating in his chest. The air in the room, slightly cool on his skin, a medicinal taste. David's hand against his, a little damp from sweat. Ptonomy breathes in, feels his lungs expand, feels the weight and substance of his body.

"Ptonomy?"

Ptonomy turns to see Mara standing in the doorway, and his father behind her.

"I'm alive," Ptonomy tells them, smiling, shocked and serene. He died and now he's alive.

Mara rushes forward and hugs him so tight. "You're real?" she says, tearful.

"Yeah," Ptonomy says. And with long-denied impulse, he looks into her memories, like he always did. He sees them together, years ago, in her apartment. The familiar memory feels as real as this moment with her now, though-- There's something different about it.

He lets her go and turns to his father.

"There you are," his father says, a little gruffly. "We've been looking for you all over."

"Dad," Ptonomy says, with feeling, and hugs him, and looks into his memories, seeking comfort in them. He sees them together, when Ptonomy was just a boy and his father's mind was mostly clear. They're playing catch in the yard. Military planes fly overhead, leaving the base for patrols. And again this memory feels different than it should.

He lets his father go.

"Doctor Orwell," Ptonomy says, turning to her. "I think-- Something's wrong with this body. With my powers."

"Wrong?" David asks, worried.

Divad appears, and Dvd vanishes, presumably back to the white room. "What's wrong?" Divad asks.

"I don't know," Ptonomy says. "My powers work fine but-- Something's different."

"Amy, Lenny?" Doctor Orwell prompts. "Do you feel okay?"

"I feel fine," Amy says.

"I'm alive," Lenny says, as if that's all she needs. Maybe with all she's been through, it is all she needs. But then she frowns. "Shit. Shit."

"Lenny?" David asks, very worried now. "Tell me what's wrong, I can-- I can try to fix it, I--"

"I can't remember my life," Lenny tells him, upset. "My old life, my real life, before Farouk fucked me over. Where's my real memories? They should be here."

David just stares at her, confused, but Divad realizes. "These aren't your old bodies, they're new ones. Brand new, they're-- They're copied from your astral forms."

"So?" Lenny asks.

"So if there's anything you left behind, anything that isn't in your astral forms then-- It's not in these bodies," Divad explains.

"Ptonomy," Doctor Orwell says. "What about your powers feels different?"

"I'm not sure," Ptonomy admits. He pulls up the memory of his father again. "It feels--" And then he realizes. "It feels like I'm remembering them for the first time. But they're old memories, ones I've relived over and over."

"You used to do that a lot," Mara says, with a hint of familiar disapproval. She never liked how he'd lose himself in his hoard of memories, reliving them again and again instead of living in the present with her.

"They're new memories," Oliver realizes. "Because this is a new body. All the pain and trauma you built up over a lifetime-- It's not in this body. It's gone."

"But I remember it," Ptonomy insists.

"Your mind remembers," Oliver says. "Your soul, your astral form. But the physical trauma is gone."

"Fuck his trauma," Lenny says, genuinely upset. "Where's my memories?"

"Genetic material," Divad says. "We need your old genetic material, that's where they are. If we can get a piece of your old body, use the gene gun-- We can restore your original body's memories."

"You better be right," Lenny says, forceful but relieved. She hugs herself, shaken. Amy steps towards her, wanting to help, but Lenny tells her to back off.

"Amy, do you feel any different?" Doctor Orwell asks.

"I don't know," Amy admits. "I don't have powers. I think I have all my memories. Maybe-- The trauma in my body is gone, too. I'm not sure, I'm just-- Really glad to be alive." She gives David a thankful look. David's visible guilt eases.

"Where's Bernie?" Ptonomy asks Mara. He needs to see his sister, tell her he's alive.

"Oh, she left with--" Mara looks at David and Divad and frowns, trying to figure out who is who.

"Oh yeah," Divad says. "She's with Forge. So's the Karies. And a couple of those therapists. They wanted to help with the whole saving the world thing."

"Why didn't you tell us?" Ptonomy asks, a little annoyed.

Divad gives him a look. "We were kinda busy killing Farouk."

"So he's dead?" Clark asks. "Definitely dead?"

Dvd appears and Divad disappears. "Absolutely one hundred percent fucking obliterated," Dvd says, with feeling.

"His soul was obliterated," Oliver says, thoughtful. "But where's his body? It was only dead, not destroyed."

"We have it," Clark says. "It's being studied."

"The hell it is," Dvd says. "Where is it?"

Clark clearly doesn't want to tell them.

"We have three telepaths," Ptonomy reminds him.

"We froze it," Clark admits. "Same unit we used for Melanie."

Dvd vanishes. There's a pause as Clark listens on his earpiece, and David and Oliver listen with their telepathy. Clark looks annoyed, and David looks emotional. Amy goes over to him and hugs him.

Dvd comes back, looking triumphant. "Now he's definitely one hundred percent fucking obliterated."

"Damnit, I wanted to see that," Lenny complains.

"What, was twice not enough?" Dvd jokes.

"No," Lenny says, angry. Then she seems to let it go, but Ptonomy doesn't believe her. He knows how much pain Lenny is carrying, and whatever satisfaction Farouk's destruction gave her, it won't heal her.

A couple weeks ago, Ptonomy wouldn't have cared if Lenny lived or died. He wouldn't have cared about her pain, as long as she didn't take David and the world down with her. She's not trapped in the mainframe anymore, she has her body and her freedom. Ptonomy can't force her into therapy. But she had a hell of a bad hand in life. He wants to help her, if he can.

"Lenny," Ptonomy says, gently. "We can talk about it, if you want. When you're ready."

"Fuck off," Lenny says, automatically defensive, but then she gives Ptonomy the same apologetic glance she gave Amy. Ptonomy can't read minds, but he can see she wants to say yes, but she can't bring herself to do it.

"When you're ready," Ptonomy says again, accepting, and lets it drop for now.

"So now what?" Syd asks. "Farouk's gone. The world knows about mutants. What do we do?"

"Good question," Ptonomy admits. "What are the Divisions doing?" he asks Clark.

"Nothing," Clark says. "We're doing nothing. Officially we don't exist and never existed."

"And unofficially?" Melanie asks. "The world knows about mutants now. They may not know about the Divisions but they know what you did. You're political poison. And it's only a matter of time until the whole truth comes out."

"The age of the dinosaur is over," Clark says, flatly. "You must be delighted."

"Oh, I am," Melanie agrees, not hiding her satisfaction.

"David, are you okay?" Amy asks, concerned. Ptonomy turns and sees David sitting on the edge of a bed, his eyes closed, brow furrowed.

"He wants to come out," David says, eyes still closed. "The youngest David. To see you." He opens his eyes, looks at Amy with feeling. "You're alive."

"I'd love to see him," Amy says, gently. "Does he need help?"

"He's afraid," David admits. He puts a hand on his chest, like it hurts. "There's, um--" His voice wavers. "There's a lot of pain in him. Dvd and Divad-- They're trying to help but-- He needs you."

"I'm right here," Amy says. She sits on the bed, reaches up and puts her hand over David's. "I can go in, if you want? The white room?"

David shakes his head. Ptonomy can see that he's struggling, or that the youngest David is struggling. Ptonomy steps over.

"It's okay to be afraid," Ptonomy soothes, addressing the youngest David. "You don't have to come out if you're not ready. But Amy loves you and she wants to give you a big hug, right?"

"I definitely do," Amy says. "I want to hug my Davey."

"Davey," David echoes, with a tiny smile. "He likes that. Davey."

"Davey," Amy says, warmly. "My Davey. I missed you so much."

There are tears in David's eyes, and he's overwhelmed with feeling. And then-- The youngest David's face peeks out of David's chest, his eyes wide with fear. The youngest David sees Amy and, after just a moment of hesitation, leaps out of David and into her lap.

"Davey," Amy says, her voice full of love as she holds him.

Davey clings to her. "Amy," he sobs, voice thick with emotion. And then he bursts into tears.

"Shh, I'm here," Amy soothes, rubbing Davey's back. "Everything's okay."

Ptonomy sees that David's face is wet with tears, too. Maybe David is feeling Davey's feelings as well as Amy's feelings, or maybe just his own. Amy's death was devastating to David just a few weeks ago, and her rescue in the mainframe was the key to David's recovery. And now-- She's alive and whole. Ptonomy is alive and whole, and Lenny.

"Thank you," Ptonomy says to David, realizing he hadn't yet. David brought all of them back to life and they barely thanked him. But it was all so fast, and so incomprehensible. What even is death or life, with the understanding they have now? And yet feeling his heart beat in his chest, the breath in his lungs, the reality of being alive again is overwhelming.

"Uh, welcome," David says, like raising the dead was nothing, was easy. Because it was easy. Like moving a notebook between levels of reality.

David's expression sobers. He wipes away his tears. "I'm tired of people being afraid of me," he tells Ptonomy. "Afraid because I'm sick, or because I'm powerful, or because I'm sick and powerful." He spares a glare at Clark before looking away. "I never asked for any of this. For so long I just-- Wanted everything to stop. The pain, the world, myself. Everything hurt. And there's still so much pain but--" He swallows. "I'm just trying to help, to-- To do something. To make the world better instead of worse."

"You and your system got rid of Farouk," Ptonomy points out. "You helped stop the war between the Divisions and mutants, you helped reunite mutants with their families. You made us new bodies and healed us. That sounds like a solid start to me."

David gives a dry laugh. "A start? I feel done."

"You're exhausted," Ptonomy says. "Your whole system has been through the wringer. You've more than earned a rest."

"A tropical vacation?" David asks, looking at Lenny, who's still sulking.

Lenny straightens up. "I get my memories and we'll have one hell of a party."

"Yeah," David says, fondly. He rubs his face again, visibly gathering himself. "You're right, I'm just-- We're all exhausted. But I feel so awake, I don't think I could sleep if I tried."

"Then let's go do something," Dvd says. "Let's go back to Forge. Still a lot of families to reunite."

"Bernie's there, right?" Syd says. "She'll be so happy to see you," she tells Ptonomy.

"Yeah," Ptonomy says, softly. It's still sinking in. He died and now he's alive, in his own body. He has a heartbeat, breath in his lungs. He has his powers back, and a fresh start. He turns to Mara. "Come with us?"

"You sure?" Mara asks.

Ptonomy sees the uncertainty in her eyes, and he doesn't have to look into any memories to understand. But he's done pushing people away, and done punishing himself because he thinks it will protect him. "I'm sure," he says. He turns to Clark. "Coming with us?"

"I should stay here," Clark says. He still looks devastated, lost. The fall of the Divisions is hitting him hard.

"You should come," Ptonony insists. "Are Daniel and Buster still here? Bring them too."

Clark looks skeptical. "They're resting."

"It'll be good for them," Ptonomy says. "And you. C'mon, I know you want to be part of this. Division 4, New Summerland?"

"That's Cary's," Clark says, flatly.

"It's yours too," Ptonomy says. "It's for all of us. You want a better future for your son? Let's go make it."

"I don't know about you, but I feel positively inspired," Oliver says, cheerfully.

"C'mon, dinosaur," Melanie says to Clark. "Time to grow wings and fly."

Clark gives a long-suffering sigh and goes to get his family.

Chapter 206: Day 15: Dragons are real, great, file it with all the other insane shit we've seen. (David)

Chapter Text

Ptonomy was right, David is tired, his whole system is exhausted. But they all feel awake, too, almost jittery with energy.

'It was the astral plane,' Divad decides, speaking from the white room. 'Connecting up to all those souls, all that power. Merging together, harmony--'

'It was exhilarating,' Amahl agrees. 'To become greater than ourselves.'

'Like being Joonam, but better,' the other David says. 'Can we do it again?'

'We can,' Divad says. 'But not right now. We still have to get used to just being ourselves.'

The other David grumbles at having to just be himself, but doesn't argue.

"Everything okay?" Syd asks.

"Yeah, sorry," David says, focusing on the outside world, on Syd. "I was just listening to--" He gestures to his head.

"Busier than ever in there," Syd says, wryly.

"Yeah," David agrees, with feeling. He's grateful for their newfound ability to shield their thoughts, to only share when they want to. The outside world is roiling with emotion; the initial wave of grief and pain has calmed, countered by the reunions of mutants with their families. But now those same people are feeling anger and betrayal, and determination to change the world that hurt them, and everyone around them is reacting with their own emotions, surprise and confusion and fear. He's doing his best to tune it out, but it's still so much.

Maybe he does miss the crown, just a little. Misses the quiet, the ability to not listen.

'Yeah,' the other David says, melancholy. David knows he's missing 'Doctor Amahl' and his lab, even though he doesn't share it. The other David and Amahl have been sticking close in the white room, in a way that makes David grateful that Dvd and Divad are alternating as chaperone.

Ptonomy and his 'sufficiently therapeutic prosthetics'. David accepts that he was probably right to handle things this way, to pair up two difficult alters and lessen the damage Farouk caused through both of them. David's doing his best to accept all of this. But even though Farouk is dead, David's Farouk trauma hasn't gone anywhere.

His stomach turns, and he reminds himself again that Amahl isn't Farouk, was never Farouk. He's just a part of their system with some memories attached to them, memories that will be erased soon. And then Amahl will be someone else, someone that's just a part of their system. The self-destructive fragments that David and Divad rejected. They'll probably be just as hard to deal with, in their way. But David doesn't have to face that yet.

Syd's gloved hand brushes his own, and David accepts the offer, takes her hand and holds it, anchors himself in her touch. He breathes in, breathes out. He glances over at Davey, asleep in Amy's arms, all cried out. At least that part of himself is resting. Davey hasn't had the chance to share with them yet, to feel that connection, the exhilaration of wholeness. David is glad Davey was protected from fighting Farouk, though. They'll share again, safely, and Davey can join them then.

"Everyone ready?" David asks.

"Just about," Syd says. She's carrying a cat carrier in her other hand, with a riled, wide-eyed Matilda inside. The poor cat hid during all the chaos, but Syd coaxed her out from behind a cabinet with some chicken.

Given the collapse of the Divisions, they decided that once they left, there was no reason to come back. Everyone went and packed up their belongings, and anything they wanted to salvage. Now there's a growing pile of cardboard boxes and suitcases and duffel bags, ready to be teleported away. And beside the luggage, the unconscious Admiral lies on a wheeled bed.

It feels so sudden, to leave like this. Another surprise departure, like leaving Clockworks in Syd's body, like being taken from Summerland by Future Syd's orb. David never wanted to leave any of those places. He's not sure he's ready to leave this one, but once again he doesn't really have a choice. Farouk's last act of revenge was to destroy the organization that enabled his defeat.

David made a lot of memories here, a lot of awful ones and a lot of wonderful ones. No matter what happens to this place, this building, he's taking those memories with them. Clear and undamaged, even the ones he wants to forget. Even those, and he's glad because he's had enough of forgetting.

'It's gonna be okay,' Dvd thinks to him, sending waves of love and reassurance from across the room, where he's helping stack the Karies' things. 'Fuck that, it's gonna be fantastic.'

David can't help but smile at that, and ducks his head. He sends a wave of love and gratitude back to Dvd. There's so much about their new life that they have to figure out, how it's all going to work, with their complicated system and their complicated relationships. But as long as Dvd is with him, it feels like everything will be okay. He knows that's how Dvd has always made him feel.

He shares that with Dvd too, and Dvd looks like he might cry or possibly explode with happiness. "Let's get outta here already," Dvd tells everyone, hustling them along.

"We're ready," Doctor Orwell says, with her team beside her.

"Ready," Melanie says, with Oliver and Lenny.

Ptonomy nods, with Mara and Martin. Amy picks up Davey and joins them.

Clark says nothing, but he's ready with Daniel and Buster and Minnie.

"We'll need somewhere to put all this," Oliver points out.

"Oh, I got it," Dvd says, and disappears. He reappears about 30 seconds later, and then disappears again with all their things. 'You bring everyone else,' Dvd tells David.

"Here we go," David says, and with a thought, he follows Dvd and brings everyone with him.

They're in-- A living room? The room is crammed full of all their boxes and bags, leaving barely enough room for them to stand.

"What the hell--" Forge says, staring at the mess. "Dvd, you said it was a few things! And who the hell is this guy?" He gestures at the unconscious Admiral.

"Eh, there's plenty of room," Dvd says, waving him off.

"I can't even see my sofa," Forge says, annoyed. But then he turns to David. "Divad, glad you're back."

"Uh, actually, I'm David," David corrects.

Divad appears next to David. "I'm here." He gestures to Dvd, and Dvd disappears into the white room.

"How many of you are there again?" Forge asks.

"Six," Divad says. "It's complicated. So, uh, we need a place to stay."

"All of you?" Forge asks, looking at the group. "My house is not big enough for this."

"We're rather displaced at the moment," Oliver admits.

"We could reopen Summerland?" Melanie offers.

"Oh, you're here!" It's the Karies, looking frazzled but excited. "My goodness, all this has been so fantastic! Doctor Orwell, Oliver, there's so many things I want to show you, Forge has some amazing inventions we've repurposed."

"Coming!" Doctor Owell says, and she and her team gather their equipment; she leaves one of the team behind to monitor the Admiral. The other therapists come out and greet Minnie, and move off down the hall together.

David sees the Karies glance at him, hesitate, and then turn away to meet Oliver.

David can't help but feel a terrible pang of guilt. He wants to help them, to fix what he did, what they did as Joonam. But it's clear his help isn't welcome. And anyway, what if he makes it worse? He lucked out with Ptonomy and Amy and Lenny, just going on instinct, and even there it wasn't perfect. He knows Lenny isn't happy, that she needs back memories he can't reach.

He cares about Kerry and Cary, everyone cares about them, and he hurt them badly. He took so much from them. It feels like Doctor Poole all over again. He was so happy and now--

'David,' Divad thinks to him, with soft concern. David looks over and sees Divad get a determined expression and walk over to Forge. "Yeah, you're right, it's kinda crowded in here. You got somewhere we can take all this?"

"Yeah, the mansion," Forge says.

"Mansion?" Syd asks.

"Oh, did Charles finally buy that old wreck?" Oliver asks.

"It hasn't been an old wreck for a long time," Forge says. "We all lent a hand, fixed the place up. I put in the tech myself, it's state of the art."

"You did?" the Karies say, visibly perking up even further. "Perhaps we should--"

"We'll join the others later," Oliver says, and guides the Karies back through the doorway. "Go ahead," he says back over his shoulder. "We'll catch up."

"Hold on," Ptonomy says, looking around. "Bernie! Bernie, you here?"

"Ptonomy?" Bernie's voice calls back, and then she steps out of the hallway.

"I'm alive," Ptonomy tells her, grinning wider than David's ever seen.

Bernie walks up and hugs him, and then hugs him tighter. "No more robot?"

"No more robot," Ptonomy agrees. "Thanks to David."

When Bernie lets Ptonomy go, she looks at Divad, then David, sorting out which of them is which. Then she gives David a rather intimidatingly assessing look. He glances at Syd, uncertain, and she gives a tiny shrug with her eyebrows.

"You've caused my family a hell of a lot of trouble," Bernie tells David, with some anger in her voice. But then she softens. "But my brother keeps telling me most of it wasn't your fault. I hope he's right and you're gonna do better."

"I will," David promises, hoping it's true.

"Then thank you," Bernie says. "For saving his life, and for not letting Farouk make you hurt us. That man was insane. And he lived inside you?"

"Yeah," David admits, voice rough.

Bernie walks up to David and gives him a hug, just like she did with Ptonomy. She pulls back at looks him right in the eyes, assessing again, and seems to come to a decision. She turns to Forge. "You guys still need my help?"

"We've got plenty of hands now," Forge says.

"Good, cause I gotta go talk to some people," Bernie says, and gets a very determined expression. It reminds David a lot of Ptonomy's determined expressions. And then she turns to Ptonomy. "You're coming with me."

"I have work to do here," Ptonomy says.

"The world's going crazy. We need to start getting control of this situation before it gets even worse," Bernie says. "You said you wanted to be in charge, make things better? That starts now."

Ptonomy is visibly torn, but sighs, accepting. "Okay. You're right, we have to get in front of this." He turns to Melanie. "You're coming too. And Clark and Daniel."

"All of us?" Melanie says, surprised.

"You headed negotiations with the Divisions," Ptonomy points out, then turns to Clark and Daniel. "You were the other side of that."

"Look," Clark says, unhappy. "If we go back to Washington, we're screwed."

"As a Division representative, yeah," Ptonomy agrees. "But you're on our side now, right? We need you as leverage, as a familiar face for these people."

"I can't leave my son alone," Clark counters.

"He can stay with us," Mara offers. "That okay, Buster?"

Buster considers that. "Yeah, that's okay. Dad--" He turks to Clark and Daniel. "You should go. You always say you want to make a better world for me. But you didn't." He pauses, upset. "If you want me to be proud of you, do something to fix this."

"We will," Daniel promises. He nudges Clark with his elbow.

"We'll fix this," Clark agrees. "I'm sorry. I--" He stops, shakes his head.

"Can one of you teleporters give us a ride?" Bernie asks.

"I don't want to leave you with all this," Ptonomy tells Mara.

"We'll be fine," Mara says. "Go save the world."

"World keeps needing saving," Ptonomy says, wryly.

"Be right back," Dvd says, appearing, then vanishing again with Ptonomy, Melanie, Bernie, Clark and Daniel.

"Not sure I'll ever get used to this," Mara says, shaking her head in amazement.

Dvd reappears. "I feel like a taxi. Okay, next stop?"

"What's this mansion?" Amy asks. Davey is awake again, and looking around, curious. Amy lets him off her lap to explore.

"It's a school, technically," Forge says. "But that's the cover story. It's our base of operations, where we train mutants to fight."

"And that's where you want us to go?" Amy asks. "A military base?"

"Eh, it's fine," Dvd says. "We went there, picked up a bunch of mutants. Didn't stay long."

"It does look like a school," Divad admits.

"It's home, for a lot of us," Forge says. "Could be yours, too."

David's not sure what to say to that. Learning about his birth parents, the tragedy they suffered, how it caused the whole tragedy of his own life-- It all still barely feels real. But maybe going there, seeing whatever their father left behind-- Maybe it will help.

"We have medical facilities there for your friend," Forge adds, gesturing to the Admiral. "Maybe we can fix whatever's wrong with him."

"Okay," Syd says, stepping forward and taking charge. "Let's get him there."

"I'll radio ahead, let them know you're coming," Forge says, and heads back into the other room.

Doctor Orwell comes back out and takes the team member's place by the Admiral's bed. "Ready," she says.

Amy takes Davey's hand, and then they're somewhere else again. This time the boxes don't fill up so much of the room they're in, some kind of large sitting room, with dark wood paneled walls and nice furniture and vases with silk flowers.

"You said it was a school?" David asks, confused.

"A really nice school," Divad shrugs, back with them again, and Dvd back in the white room. Amahl and the other David are still watching all of this from a distance.

Mara guides Martin to a sofa to sit, and Buster looks out a window. Davey lets go of Amy's hand and follows Buster and looks out, too.

"Where are we?" Buster asks.

David goes to the next window over. The building is surrounded by a huge grass lawn, dotted with trees, with a line of forest beyond. David closes his eyes and feels the landscape of the minds around them. He expected it to be a busy as Summerland, a loud burble of powerful minds, but it's quiet here, with the mental noise of small towns in the distance.

Quiet, but not empty.

"What was that?" Lenny asks, sharply.

Syd tenses, defensive. Matilda gives a low angry growl from within her carrier. Mara puts a hand on Martin's arm, and Amy steps closer to Davey and Buster.

'Hear anything?' Dvd asks, from the white room.

'One mind,' David reports. 'Close. Young. Definitely a mutant.' He can feel power, but nothing at a level that would be a danger to them. 'And a second mind. Some kind of-- Animal?' He's not sure.

'Animal?' Divad thinks, and realizes something. "Hey," he says aloud, and steps forward. "You seriously think you can get the drop on a telepath?" he calls out.

A head appears through a wall, a teenaged girl with dark hair. "You're not a telepath!" she says, and then disappears.

"No, but David is," Divad teases.

The girl's head pops out of the wall again. "Who's David?"

Divad points at David.

"That's Dvd," the girl says, annoyed.

"No, I'm Dvd," Dvd says, popping out.

"There's three of you?" the girl says, annoyed at that, too. She huffs and walks the rest of the way through, and there's a creature on her shoulder the size of Matilda, but it is definitely not a housecat. "That's not fair, you've got too many powers," she complains. The creature flaps its wings and glares at them.

"What the hell--" Martin says, alarmed.

"Is that a dragon?!" Buster says, astonished. Davey stares, as amazed as David feels.

"Everyone, this is Kitty Pryde," Divad says. "And her pet dragon, Lockheed."

"Why didn't you tell me there's dragons?" David asks, astonished.

"Dvd knew too," Divad protests.

"What are you, five?" Lenny asks him. "Dragons are real, great, file it with all the other insane shit we've seen." She turns back to Kitty. "You guys got any food? I just came back from the dead and I'm starving."

"Sure, cafeteria's that way," Kitty says, equally unfazed. She gestures down the hall.

"I'm out," Lenny says, and heads in that direction. "Catch up with you later."

David starts after her, surprised at her sudden departure. But Syd stops him.

"It's okay," Syd says. "She needs some space."

David sighs but nods. He knows Syd's right. He can feel how tense Lenny is, the toll everything has taken on her. She does need space, time to herself, to process everything that's happened to her, to them. He could do with some of that himself.

"Ah, there you are," comes a new voice, low and booming from the hall. And then a man appears, startlingly tall and broad, with blue skin and hair. "Dvd, Divad," the man greets, clearly another of the friends Dvd and Divad made last night. "And you must be David Haller? I'm Hank McCoy."

Hank extends a large and slightly furred hand. David takes it, shakes.

"What the hell are you?" Martin asks, wide-eyed.

"Here to help," Hank says, clearly used to being gawked at. He sees the Admiral, unconscious in the medical bed. "Doctor Orwell?" he asks. "Forge asked if I could assist."

"I hope you can," Doctor Orwell says. David can feel her shock at Hank's appearance, but she hides it well.

"Let's bring the Admiral to the infirmary," Hank says. He gives the rest of them a considering look. "I understand that you need a place to stay."

"Just for a while," Amy says, grateful.

"You're welcome here as long as you like," Hank says. He turns to David. "Thank you for stopping Farouk. He's an old enemy of ours as well. Our founder fought him years ago. Charles Xavier, do you know him?" He points at a painting on the wall. The man in the portrait is older, and his hair would have been gray if there was any of it left. But it's recognizably the man Oliver showed them on the astral plane. Charles Xavier. His expression is focused, serious.

David stares at the painting, trying to take it in. He only just saw Charles for the first time last night, a young man in a memory. And now he's an old man in a painting.

And this place, this-- Military base disguised as a school-- This was his home. Until he left it, left all of them.

"I understand you've been through a lot," Hank says, gently. "But you're safe here. This is a home for all mutants."

"Oh, is it?" Dvd says, suddenly furious.

"Don't," Divad warns him, sharply.

Dvd glares at Divad, glares at the painting of Charles and then vanishes, but not into the white room. David can't hear his thoughts, doesn't know where he went, but he can feel Dvd's anger.

"Sorry. Been a long night. We just need to rest," Divad tells Hank. 'Before anyone else snaps,' Divad thinks to David.

"Kitty, could you--" Hank starts, then they notice that Kitty, Buster, and Davey are clustered together, and Kitty is showing off her dragon. Davey looks happy.

"I see they've hit it off," Hank tells Divad.

"Yeah," Divad says, and softens.

David notices Amy and Syd watching Davey, too. And something about all this makes David feel like he's been punched in the gut. He feels the urge to take off like Lenny and Dvd, to just be alone, to have the space to think. To be anywhere but here, in this room with his child self and other mutants and his birth father's face on the wall.

He knows he shouldn't be alone, not that he's ever really alone. He can't run off without making everyone worry or worse. But the thought of going to a room here, making a home in this place-- It's too much.

"I'm gonna-- I'll be with Lenny," David tells them, and teleports after her.

Chapter 207: Day 15: Can we not have this argument in the middle of the asteroid belt? (David)

Chapter Text

The cafeteria is empty when David teleports in. Morning sunlight streams in through the windows, illuminating a space that looks more like a restaurant than a cafeteria, warmly decorated with fabrics and dark wood instead of sterile plastic and metal. He hears a clatter and walks past the circular tables to the serving area, an open counter that connects to a large kitchen. Lenny is inside, with her head in one of the large refrigerators. Her bad mood is pouring off her in waves.

David clears his throat. "Anything good?"

Lenny goes still, and David can feel her annoyance flare. But it's quickly followed by a grudging acceptance, and a reluctant shimmer of affection. She pulls something out of the fridge and turns.

"Is that?" David says, hardly daring to believe they'd be this lucky.

Lenny just grunts and walks past him. There's a cutlery holder on the counter, and she grabs a fork as she passes it. David follows her and grabs a fork too. Lenny sits at a table and shoves a forkful of cherry pie into her mouth, and moans.

"Good?" David asks, sitting next to her. He takes a forkful.

"Fucking amazing," Lenny says, through her mouthful. She takes another forkful, stuffing her face greedily.

David tastes the pie. It is pretty amazing. The cherries taste fresh and delicious, and the crust is perfect. The pie is perfect. But realizing that, he has to force himself to swallow it.

"You can have the rest," David says, putting his fork aside.

Lenny grunts and keeps eating. She gives him a sideways glance, curious why he'd refuse his favorite treat, but he can tell she doesn't want to ask. She came here to be alone and he followed her. He should really just leave her alone.

He doesn't move. He looks at the cafeteria again. He tries to imagine what it must be like to live here. Forge said-- This place was a school. A refuge, a place where mutants were brought to-- Learn their powers, how to use them. Like Summerland. A home for mutants, like him.

But not for him. His birth father made this place, but not for him.

The fork on the table starts to shake, clattering against the wood. Lenny freezes and stares at him.

"Sorry," David mutters, and forces himself to be calm, he has to be calm. He breathes in, breathes out. The fork stops shaking.

"I just got this body, you better not blow it up," Lenny grumbles, and goes back to eating.

It's not even the right body, David thinks, but doesn't say. I fucked that up, maybe I should just do it over. He doesn't say that either, just sits there and stops himself from making the room explode.

He just wants to be okay. Farouk is dead, the Divisions are gone. All the nightmares are over. He's safe, everyone he cares about is safe. He saved the world. He should be happy. He should be fine.

The fork starts shaking again. David slaps his hand down over the fork. Now it can't shake.

Lenny turns to him and raises her eyebrows. "Got a problem?"

David wants to say no, but he can't even muster the lie. He looks away from her and sees a picture on the wall. It's the same as the one he saw earlier. A portrait of Charles Xavier, his expression focused and serious.

The fork flies out from under David's hand and stabs into the portrait, embedding its tines in Charles' bald head.

Lenny snort-laughs. She relaxes. "Yeah, fuck that guy."

David can't help but give a small laugh, too.

"Fuck dads," Lenny says. "I barely remember my dad, but I sure as shit don't care if I get those memories back."

David knows she said that to make him feel better, but-- He doesn't feel better. It just feeds the tangled awfulness roiling inside him.

"Fuck them," Lenny continues, unaware. "They didn't care about us, we sure as shit don't need them. Who the hell gets abducted by aliens? What an asshole."

"He wasn't abducted," David says, quietly. "He left, he--" The tangled awfulness is so big inside him, it's hard to breathe. But if he can't breathe, he can't keep from exploding. And then the answer comes to him. "I'm going to find him." Yes, that's it, that's what he needs.

"Find him?" Lenny echoes, skeptical.

"I'm the most powerful telepath on Earth, right?" David says. "He's a telepath, too. Maybe I can just-- Hear him." He closes his eyes and concentrates. He hears the minds directly around him, in the mansion. He stretches, first into the town around them, then beyond. Noisy cities, hundreds of miles apart from each other, full of thousands and thousands of minds. David realizes he's not even sure how to recognize Charles if he does find him, but of course Charles wouldn't be one human among billions of other humans. He'll be one human among-- Alien minds. What would an alien mind even feel like?

He concentrates again and focuses up and out, beyond the loud burble of humanity, into the emptiness of space. He's never tried to listen this far -- not that he can remember -- but as the Earth recedes from his awareness, everything becomes startlingly quiet. He can't see anything, but he can feel the small, distant solidity of the moon. He stretches further, straining for the slightest hint of a conscious mind in the vast void. Curiosity drives him. How far can he reach?

He feels a mental tap on the shoulder. He opens his eyes, and Dvd and Divad are sitting with them at the cafeteria table. They're obviously worried, but they don't need to be.

"What's going on?" Divad asks, with forced calm.

"I'm finding Charles," David says.

"Fuck that guy," Dvd says, arms crossed and scowling. "He doesn't need us? We don't need him."

"That's what I said," Lenny agrees.

David closes his eyes again, stretching and stretching his mind in all directions. It hurts but he can't stop, refuses to stop.

"What's the rush?" Divad asks. "He's been gone for years."

"He's probably already dead," Dvd says.

"That's why I need to find him now," David says, and hears the strain in his own voice. But pain doesn't matter, he's used to pain. "Can't waste any more time. I need to-- See him. Talk to--" He groans, hisses as the pain sharpens. He thinks he can-- He might be close to Mars--

Mars. One hundred and twenty eight million miles away. But the edge of the solar system-- It's eleven billion miles away. And Charles and his aliens aren't even in this solar system.

It's too far. He lets go and his mind snaps back to the tiny space of the cafeteria, disorientingly small after stretching his awareness so wide. The snap triggers a sudden, intense headache, and he sways a little, dizzy and nauseous. He grips the table, steadying himself, and the pain eases, settling into a dull throb.

He's not strong enough. He's the strongest telepath on Earth and that's not enough. But he felt so much stronger before, when-- When they were together. In harmony.

"I need your help," David tells Dvd and Divad. "We can find him if we're together."

"I don't want to find him," Dvd says, furious. "Look at this place! He helped every mutant out there except his own son! He threw us away! The only reason I'd ever want to see him is to spit in his face!"

"I'm sorry, David," Divad says. "We had a hell of a night and we're all tired and-- I want to find him too but it can wait."

"He's our father," David says, angrily. "We have the right to see him."

"And we will," Divad promises. "But not right now."

"No," David says, refusing. "He never came to us and he never will. We have to go to him. We have to go out there and make him see us! Everything that happened to us is his fault! Dvd's right, he had all this, he helped all those mutants, and he couldn't take one second to check in on us? He never even tried." He's shaking now, with pain, with anger, with the force it's taking to hold back everything that wants to blast out of him. He feels hot and sick, like he does when his Farouk trauma flares up, but he doesn't need to throw up, he needs to explode.

All the forks in the cutlery holder rise up and fling themselves at the portrait of Charles, striking into it until it's ripped to shreds. And David can't stop it anymore, can't stop himself from exploding, and there's nothing to stop him, no crown, no drugs, no Farouk sucking him dry and making him weak. No one can stop him from blowing up and ruining everything and he's angry and terrified and it's all Charles' fault and David has to find him now.

And in a blink the cafeteria is gone, the mansion is gone, the Earth is gone. Air, David thinks, and warm air swirls around his body, a bubble of warm breathable air that he needs because he's in fucking space.

He breathes, trying not to panic, eyes open wide as he looks around and there's the Milky Way, huge and bright. Stars, all the stars in every direction, brilliant and clear, without atmosphere to dim them. He looks around for anything that isn't light-years away and sees the sun, impossibly distant, barely bigger than a star. He sees something floating, dark but close. Asteroids. He flies towards the biggest one and grabs on, anchors himself.

"What the fuck!" Dvd appears next to him on the asteroid, furious and terrified. He grabs David's arm.

"David!" Divad says, just as upset, and grabs his other arm. "Holy shit, where--"

David hears Davey crying in the white room. David realizes-- When he left Earth with their body, he pulled the rest of his system along with him. Shit. Not that he meant to-- He was just--

"No way," Dvd says, refusing. "This is not happening. Get us the hell back there!"

David braces himself to obey, to teleport back to Earth, to the mansion, the cafeteria. But then he stops, and a strange calm comes over him. "No. I'm not going back there."

"Then we'll go somewhere else," Divad says. "Summerland, anywhere."

David pulls his arms free of Dvd and Divad, and stands up, turns around, looking at the stars. Where are they? He reaches out his mind like before, searching for the tiny specks of matter that are the planets. Everything is so small. But-- "There's Mars," he says, pointing. He turns, points again. "That's Jupiter. We must be in the asteroid belt."

"Oh my god," the other David says, appearing beside him. He stares around them in awe. "We're in space?"

"Yeah," David says, suddenly smiling. All those years, dreaming of the stars, knowing they would never actually reach them-- And now they're here. Doing the impossible, standing on an asteroid, hundreds of millions of miles from the sun.

Divad softens. "Okay, this is pretty amazing," he admits. "But David-- Charles isn't here."

"He's somewhere," David says, feeling a renewed determination. "Maybe we can't get to him in one hop, but-- Jupiter's about as far, then two more hops to Saturn, and then--" He tries to remember the other astronomical distances.

"A billion miles to Uranus," the other David says, in wonder. "Two billion to Neptune. Three billion to Pluto. We could reach them."

"And if we get tired halfway there?" Dvd challenges. "You wanna hop through the universe two hundred million miles at a time?"

"We could do it if we did it together," David says, feeling certain. Their power felt so limitless when they were in harmony. "We could fly through the whole universe to find him. And then--" He trails off, less certain. He shivers, still recovering from the shock of those first few seconds of deep space. His head still hurts, but it doesn't matter. They can do this, it's actually possible.

"Yeah, we could," Dvd finally admits. "But I don't want this. And I'm gonna keep telling you I don't want this until we go back, and if you won't go back, I'm gonna kick you out of our body and take us back myself."

"You wouldn't," David scoffs. But Dvd's expression is serious.

"I want it," the other David says, challenging Dvd. "I want to find him. This is my life, not yours. You have to do what I want."

 

"David, I love you, but shut the hell up," Dvd says, hackles raised.

"Can we not have this argument in the middle of the asteroid belt?" Divad asks, wearily. "If anything happens out here, no one can help us. They can't even find us. Do you even know if you can get us back?"

David scoffs. "Of course I can." But when he feels the distance-- It feels like a lot. He's more tired than he realized. And all that anger that propelled him-- "I just need a minute." If he rests for a minute, he can do it.

"Oh, we're going straight back," Dvd declares. "We are not dying in fucking space."

David sits down on the barren rock, and the failure of all this-- To reach the stars and it's still not enough-- He feels so pathetic, useless, the same failure he's always been.

"David," Divad says, concerned. He sits down beside him. "Charles doesn't matter. He hasn't mattered since he left us. I'm pissed at him too, but we do not need to chase after him. What's this really about?"

David just shakes his head, unable to find the words. "I just need--" he starts, trying. He needs to find Charles. He needs to confront him, to-- To get his approval? To punish him? He doesn't know. It all feels irrelevant, except-- It feels like the world will end if he doesn't.

"Okay," Divad says, gently, having heard the shared thoughts. He looks at the distant speck of the sun, then turns back to David. "You know, we did a lot of impossible shit last night."

That drags a tiny laugh out of David. He pulls up his knees and wraps his arms around them.

"We did a lot of impossible shit," Divad says again. "And we didn't fuck it up. We won. We stopped Farouk and we saved the world. And-- That's not how it's supposed to work, right? We're supposed to fuck it up. We're supposed to fail, to be punished. Farouk's supposed to punish us."

Everyone goes quiet.

The terrible feeling in David's stomach, that awful tangle of emotion-- It flares up stronger than ever.

"That's the cycle, right?" Divad continues. "Ptonomy told us. Farouk puts us through hell and you try to fix it and you fail. Then he punishes you. Then we comfort you. Then you feel safe and loved, for a while."

"Yeah," David says, throat painfully tight.

Divad leans in. "You don't have to be punished to be loved." And he wraps his arms around David, and David can feel him sending love to him with all his heart.

David wants to believe that. He wants to, but it's so hard. Every fiber in his being is shouting the opposite. Because if Farouk is gone, if Farouk can't punish him, then someone has to. Charles has to. Or David has to punish himself, like he always has. It's the only way. If he doesn't suffer then he doesn't deserve to be loved.

"Oh, David," Divad says, holding him tight.

"I'm sorry," David says, tears floating from his eyes. He's such a failure, all that therapy and he's still broken.

"I don't understand," the other David says, confused and disturbed. "I'm-- I'm going back in."

The other David takes one last look at the stars, and then he's back in the white room. David feels him there, turning to Amahl for comfort, the two of them holding each other. Davey is with them, watching them together, relieved by the sight. To feel those parts of himself taking comfort in a copy of Farouk-- The whole thing makes David feel sick.

And the worst part is, Divad is right. Divad's right about all of it.

"It's gonna be okay," Dvd says, sitting down on his other side. Dvd holds him, too, and David gives a tearful laugh at the two of them, fulfilling their part of the cycle.

"Love is not part of his fucking cycle," Dvd tells him. "Our love is ours, not his. If you fuck up, I'm gonna love you. If you win, I'm gonna love you. If you sit there with your thumb up your ass and do nothing for the rest of all goddamn time, I'm gonna love you. Got it?"

"Okay," David says, and tries to believe it. He's trying. Farouk is dead and it should feel like a victory, but he feels so awful. They saved the world but everything feels like it's his fault and he needs to pay for it. They freed themselves, they're the most powerful mutant on the planet and nothing can stop them, but David feels just as trapped as ever. Farouk carved his games deep into David's soul, and it seems impossible that those scars could ever heal.

"I'm sorry," David says, bleakly.

"I love you," Dvd answers, firmly. "Now can we go the fuck home?"

"Yeah," David agrees. He realizes how absurd this whole idea was. But he wasn't really trying to find Charles. He was just punishing himself, like he always does. Like Farouk taught him.

David's so tired. But being out here-- He remembers something. Writing in his notebook, writing NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. until his hand hurt, until his pen ran out of ink. Wanting to carve the word NO into the moon so everyone would see it forever. NO to all the pain and fear that Farouk put him through every single miserable day, that Farouk's still putting him through even though Farouk's very soul has been erased from existence.

Maybe he doesn't want to carve it into the moon. He doesn't want to immortalize Farouk's cruelty where everyone can see it. But no one can see this asteroid. One out of thousands, millions of rocks, floating in the darkness forever. But David will always be able to find it, if he needs to.

He wipes his eyes and stands up, and pushes off from the surface. He raises his hand and reaches out his power and carves the word NO into the rock, in massive letters as big as he can fit. Icy dust sprays out, glittering in the dim sunlight. They're so far from home.

Andromeda, Cassiopeia, David remembers. All those night with his dad, staring up the stars, finding them and naming them. Bootes, Canis Major, Lupus, Telescopium-- He loved those nights. They mean so much to him. He hopes they were real.

He misses his dad. His adoptive dad. His real dad, not--

He wants to go home. Whatever home even means, now. Maybe home just means the people he loves, and who love him back. The people who stayed by his side and fought for his life and his sanity against impossible odds. They matter a hell of a lot more to him than Charles Xavier. They matter more than the scars Farouk carved into David's soul, into his heart and mind.

But he's so tired, and Earth feels so far away.

"Can you help?" he asks.

Dvd and Divad reach for him, and he feels their harmony. Home, they all think, and then it's easy to just reach out and--

They're back in the cafeteria. Lenny's still here, but so are Amy and Syd and Oliver and-- The Karies. Guilt squeezes David's heart agonizingly tight. The urge to punish himself is so strong it hurts. But he's too tired to do it, especially when he feels so dizzy. It'll have to wait.

"Sorry," he tells them anyway. "Everything's fine now, I just--" And then his knees give way, and as he passes out, the Karies reach out to catch him.

Chapter 208: Day 15: I know you love a good puzzle. (Cary)

Chapter Text

Another mutant and their family reunited. Today has gone from one of the worst days of Cary's life to one of the best.

He turns to Oliver, grinning. His smile feels different on Kerry's face, easier but also somehow the wrong shape, though it's becoming less wrong. He needs it to be less wrong, to accept this change. Not that he has much choice. He and Kerry have only one body to share now, and this is it.

"Who's next?" Oliver asks Forge. They've been plowing through the list of mutants for hours, finding their families and loved ones, bringing them together. Helping families heal after they were torn apart by the Divisions and their cruelty.

Cary regrets ever being a part of the Divisions. Even if it was for a good reason, even if it was only after the memory suppressing had stopped. Even though their being in Division 3 enabled this victory to happen and all the memories to be recovered-- By Farouk of all people--

"I'm bored," Kerry says, taking advantage of Cary's distraction and taking back control. "I wanna kick someone's butt."

"Kerry," Cary chides, taking control back again. "I'm sorry, she--"

"Don't talk for me," Kerry says. When she's in charge, Cary can feel the tension and anger in their body.

"Kerry," Cary says again, this time more conciliatory. If she's upset--

"The Divisions hurt all these people," Kerry says. "Someone's gotta make them regret it."

"I believe they already do," Oliver says. "But we can leave that to Melanie and Ptonomy and Clark. What we're doing is far more important than revenge."

"It's boring," Kerry complains. "I'm bored. I wanna go." She starts to walk them away, but Cary stops her. She grits their teeth, annoyed.

"We have important work to do here," Cary tells her.

"You have important work," Kerry corrects. "I'm just stuck here. Having only one body is the worst."

"I'm sorry," Cary says, genuinely. The memory of last night flashes before his eyes yet again, of Joonam turning Cary's body to black dust. The memory hurts every time, and he pushes it away every time, but he knows it will keep coming back. "I'm sure we'll be done with all this soon."

"Up next," Forge says, looking up from his console. "Hisako Ichiki. Family's address is in Tokyo."

"Finding them now," Oliver says, closing his eyes and concentrating.

"Kurt, ready for the next one?" Forge says, into his microphone.

"Are Dvd and Divad still busy?" Kurt asks, his voice sounding tired through the speaker. "I'm running out of steam. Could use their help again."

"I'll check," Oliver says. "Perhaps now that David is settled--" He trails off and frowns, then opens his eyes. "I'm afraid we have a situation."

"What's wrong?" Cary asks, tensing with trepidation and a little fear. His mind races through the possibilities. If something's wrong with David-- Farouk? The Amahl alter? The other David alter? Could Joonam be back? Oh god, if Joonam is back--

"David just left the planet," Oliver says, with his usual calm astonishment.

"He what?" Forge says, eyes wide. "Why?"

"I don’t know," Oliver says. "I've alerted the others. We'd better go."

"We're coming too," Kerry says, her certainty defying Cary's wariness. "Can we go to space? I wanna go to space."

"We'll be back soon," Oliver tells Forge. "Carry on without us."

 

In a blink, they're at the mansion. They're standing in the cafeteria, and Lenny's there, picking at a half-eaten pie.

"Where's David?" Kerry asks her.

"How the hell should I know?" Lenny says, defensive. "You find him," she tells Oliver. "You're the telepath."

"Wherever he's gone, it's far beyond my range," Oliver says.

"Well, shit," Lenny says. She leans back and crosses her arms, worried and annoyed.

"Oliver?" Amy calls. She enters the cafeteria, Syd right behind her.

"Where's David?" Syd asks, with an edge of panic.

"We were with Davey and he disappeared," Amy says. "Where are Dvd and Divad? Are they gone too?"

"Yup," Lenny says, waving vaguely at the ceiling. "Went off to play spacemen."

"They what?" Syd asks, quietly horrified. She turns to Oliver. "We have to get them back. We have to find them right now."

"If he's out of range, perhaps--" Cary starts, scrambling for solutions. "If Forge has some equipment-- We could scan the area around Earth--"

Syd looks like she's going to be sick, or possibly pass out. Kerry braces their body, ready to catch Syd if she passes out. But Amy sees it too, and steps closer. She puts a careful hand on Syd's shoulder and Syd startles, then calms a little.

"Or the astral plane," Cary continues, mind still racing. "Oliver, could you find him there? Even if he's far away?"

"Perhaps," Oliver says, thoughtful.

"What made them leave?" Amy asks.

Lenny points her thumb at the wall. There's a portrait of Charles there, and it's been punctured with several dozen forks.

Amy sighs. "Oh, David."

And then, as if in response, David's suddenly back. He stands in front of them, not visibly harmed but very visibly tired. His eyes meet with Cary's and his face crumples with regret.

"Sorry," David says, as he sways on his feet. "Everything's fine now, I just--"

And then David's knees give way, and before Cary can stop her, Kerry rushes forward and catches David as he passes out.

Inside, Cary flinches, but Kerry doesn't. David feels bigger in Kerry's arms than he did in Cary's, from the times that Cary held David as he passed out. But he's lighter, too, with Kerry's strength. David's head lolls, and the familiar vulnerability makes Cary's chest ache.

It wasn't David's fault. Joonam wasn't his fault. Cary knows that. Farouk forced himself into David's mind and took control of him, just like he had so many times. Joonam was just another mask.

But Cary's still relieved when Kerry lays David down on an empty table.

"David?" Syd calls, leaning over David and patting him with a gloved hand. "David!"

Oliver leans over David, inspecting him. He touches David's shirt and then looks at their fingers. "Cary? What's this dust?"

"I don't know," Cary says. He looks down and realizes the dust is all over their body, too. He looks at their hand and wonders, curious.

"What about his headmates?" Amy asks.

"Unconscious as well," Oliver reports. "Whatever happened, it appears to have taken a great deal out of his entire system. Let’s get them to the infirmary. Kerry, if you could?"

Cary hesitates, but Kerry pushes past him again and picks David up. As they carry David through the halls, Cary can't help but think about how things were after the trial. Cary was afraid of David then, too. Kerry was the one brave enough to face David, to be there for him. Cary's proud of her for that, but now that they only have one body, her bravery leaves him nowhere to hide.

When they reach the infirmary, Hank and Doctor Orwell have already prepared a bed. Kerry lays David down, and Cary feels another pang of care for him, this time from Kerry.

"What's this?" Doctor Orwell asks, seeing the fine layer of dust all over David.

"We need a sample," Cary tells her, and she collects some of the dust into a vial.

"Vitals seem fine," Hank says, looking at the medical readouts.

"You sure he's in there?" Syd asks, looking between Hank and Oliver.

"He's right here," Oliver assures her. "All present and accounted for."

"I believe he's just deeply asleep," Hank says. "We should let him rest."

Cary turns to the other person lying unconscious in the infirmary. The Admiral. His basket is gone, left behind at Division 3. If the Admiral wakes, when he wakes, will he still have access to the Vermillion? They didn't think to bring any with them.

"Do we have any idea how far he went?" Hank asks.

"Very far," Oliver says. "Definitely past the moon."

"That must have taken incredible power," Hank says, thoughtful. "To teleport to deep space and survive-- And he was certainly strong enough to defeat Amahl Farouk. What else can he do?"

"It's more a question of what he can't do," Cary admits, turning back to face them. "David's abilities and the strength of those abilities--"

"Teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy," Oliver lists. "All essentially limitless. Astral projection. He can perceive other frequencies of reality and move himself and things between them."

"He can what?" Hank says, stunned.

"He saved my life," Amy says. "He copied my astral form and made it into a new body for me. And for Lenny and Ptonomy."

Cary suddenly realizes that Lenny didn't follow them into the infirmary. She must have stayed behind in the cafeteria.

"Astonishing," Hank says, looking at David with awe. He turns to Amy. "May I?" She offers her arm and he looks at it, inspects it. "An astral creation? Yet it seems perfectly normal." He turns back to Oliver. "Why didn't we know about him before now? Did his powers just manifest?"

"He's had them since childhood," Oliver says, and frowns. "Hank, there's something you need to know. David Haller is Charles' son."

"Charles never had kids," Hank says, confused.

"His wife was Gabrielle Haller," Oliver continues. "They had a son."

"Are you serious?" Hank says, disbelieving. "Hell." He walks away, stares out a window. Sighs and turns back. "Charles and his secrets. Why didn't he ever tell us? Why not bring them here? David's power, his lineage--"

"Charles was a private man," Oliver acknowledges. "I suppose that didn't change, in the time I was gone?"

Hank snorts. "Always played his cards close to his chest. A son--" He stares at David, frowns. "Hold on. What about his brothers? Dvd and Divad? Where are they?"

"Ah," Oliver says, and hesitates. He glances at Amy and Syd, then at Cary. "They're not David's brothers."

"Another power?" Hank guesses. "A friend of mine can create duplicates of himself."

"They're not a power," Oliver admits. "They're a symptom. Let me start at the beginning. Charles fought Farouk and won, but at great cost. He was paralyzed, Gabrielle was psychically attacked. Unable to care for David, Charles gave him to Gabrielle's family."

"Hence 'Haller'," Hank realizes.

"My little brother," Amy says, fondly.

"Farouk's soul survived on the astral plane," Oliver continues. "He was too weak to face Charles again, so he attacked David. He invaded him, fed on him as a parasitic soul."

"My god," Hank says, horrified.

"We did the best we could," Amy says, with regret. "But we had no idea what was truly happening to him. What Farouk did to him for decades--" She cuts off, unable to continue.

"He was tortured," Oliver says, flatly. "By the time Summerland found him, the damage was enormous. We were able to remove Farouk a year ago, but he escaped. When he returned to hurt David again, we realized no one was powerful enough to stop Farouk but David himself. We pushed David very hard to make him mentally strong enough to do that." He pauses. "David's powers are truly incredible. But his mind and soul are deeply wounded."

"I see," Hank says, visibly absorbing all of that. "And Dvd and Divad? They're symptoms of this wound?"

"Yes," Oliver says, and pauses. "Best to be direct. David has dissociative identity disorder. Dvd, Divad, Davey-- They're his alters. Headmates in a system. Amahl is one as well, and a younger David who contains memories that Farouk stole from David." He gestures at David. "Currently everyone in the system is here, asleep. But each headmate can astral project and physically interact with the world."

Hank's expression is somber. "Are they all as powerful as David?"

"We don't know," Oliver admits. "David appears to be the most powerful. Yet his power is dwarfed by that of his collective system."

"Oh Charles," Hank sighs. "This is a mess." He shakes his head. "Scott and Ororo will decide how to handle this."

"Excuse me, they don't get to decide anything," Syd says, sharply.

"If David and his alters are a danger--" Hank starts.

"Don't you dare treat them that way," Syd warns him. "They just saved the world. They stopped Farouk and they stopped the Divisions."

"And we're incredibly grateful for that," Hank says.

"I've seen this before," Syd says, not backing down. "You take one look at their powers and you think you can use them. I won't let that happen."

"DID is a serious illness," Hank counters. "If he's mentally unstable, with the power he has, he could--"

"End the world?" Syd says, with an edge of mockery. "We don't need you. When David wakes up, we're gone. Don't get in our way."

"Syd," Cary starts, feeling as though this has all quickly spiraled out of control. Syd glares at him, and Cary decides on a different path. "Hank. I understand your concern. But it's unwarranted. Yes, DID is serious, but--"

The next words stop in his throat, choked with fear. I have it, he wants to say. I'm a headmate. And it's okay. You know me, you know I'm okay.

But he can't, he can't. The old fear strangles him.

"We're a system, too," Kerry says, determined and proud. "Me and Cary. We're mutants with DID and if we're okay, the Davids are okay, too."

Hank looks at them with confusion. "I thought-- Your mutation--"

"We're not twins, we're just like the Davids," Kerry says, defiant. "If you can't accept them, we're leaving, too."

"Let's all stay calm," Amy says. "The Davids will be asleep for a while, right Oliver?"

"Very likely," Oliver agrees.

"And if any decisions are going to be made about their future, about what we're all going to do together," Amy says, with emphasis, "we need to wait for them wake up. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Syd says, still staring daggers at Hank.

"Agreed," Hank says, relieved. "My apologies. Clearly this is-- A more sensitive situation than I realized." He pauses, looks at Oliver. "I don't know why Charles never brought David here. If he had--" He stops, sighs. "Things would have been very different. But here we are."

"Yes," Oliver agrees.

"We're not Summerland," Hank admits. "We're soldiers. You're right, when we find mutants, we look at them as assets first. We have to. That's the situation war put us in."

"The war's over," Syd says.

"It's never over," Hank says. "There will always be people who see mutants as a threat. And stopping those people gets mutants killed. Maybe that's why Charles left David behind, he didn't want him--" His voice catches. "Being hurt has always been part of the job for us. But if a mutant is hurt too badly, they just get sidelined. Mental healthcare-- That hasn't really been a strength."

"Perhaps that needs to change," Oliver says.

"You would say that," Hank says, with faint humor. "Maybe you're right. The war might not be over, but with everyone's memories returned-- The world's changing. We have to change, too. I think-- We owe it to Charles' son to try."

"Thank you," Oliver says, warmly.

"Also, I don't know what your powers are, but I don't want to find out the hard way," Hank jokes to Syd.

Syd gives him a thin, warning smile. "You definitely don't."

"I'll let you rest," Hank says. "You can stay in here if you want. If you need anything at all, just ask."

Hank heads out of the infirmary, and Cary starts to follow him, stops, fear stopping him again. But then their feet move again anyway. Kerry. Always the brave one.

"Thank you," Cary murmurs to her, quietly. "Hank," he calls, as they catches up to him.

Hank stops, turns back. "Did you need something?"

"Just to talk," Cary says, and again tries to find the words. "We didn't know. Kerry and I. About our situation, being-- Two parts of the same mind. We only realized-- Through helping the Davids."

"What happened to your old body?" Hank asks.

"Farouk destroyed it," Cary says, telling himself as much as Hank. Not Joonam, not David. Farouk. "Kerry and I are learning to share."

"Then your mutation isn't being two people in one body," Hank says, considering. "It's-- What? Creating a second body?"

"A physical projection, yes," Cary says. "Originally, Kerry's body was the projection. Farouk changed us, made-- He made my body the projection." It's still so much for him to accept. "And then he destroyed it."

"I'm sorry," Hank says, genuinely. "And you could only make the physical projection the one time? You can't make a new one?"

Cary stares at him. "No. I mean-- I don't-- I don't think so. We never tried, I mean--"

"Cary always healed me," Kerry says, and he can feel her excitement growing. "If I was hurt, Cary took my wounds, he healed my-- My physical projection, right?"

"Well, yes," Cary agrees. "But there's a great difference between healing and making an entirely new body."

"Perhaps," Hank says. "Something to think about. I know you love a good puzzle." He smiles, then sobers. "Cary, Kerry-- I'm sorry. I didn't mean--" He pauses. "Being mutants-- Coming from all walks of life, from all over the world-- Our only true commonality is that each of us is unique. The diversity of psychic powers, of how those powers affect the mind-- We should be better than such old prejudices. I suppose we all have our blind spots."

"I'm afraid we all do," Cary admits. "We have to keep learning, keep pushing ourselves forward. Or have someone who can give us the push we need," he says, to Kerry.

"Anytime," Kerry says, pleased.

"I guess you're our push this time," Hank says, wryly. He looks out at the hall ahead. "So many mutants getting their families back-- It won't be the same here after this. We were all sort of-- Orphaned together, by the Divisions. We became each other's family. I hope we can hold on to that."

"It's not easy," Cary admits, thinking of how many mutants he said goodbye to when they closed Summerland. He hasn't checked in on many of them. Maybe because he was ashamed about working for the Divisions. "But it's worth the work," he decides, promising himself that he'll rebuild those connections, or try to.

"I suppose even blood ties are no guarantee," Hank says. "I wish Charles had brought David here. Maybe it would have put him in danger. But we do our best to protect each other. He shouldn't have been alone."

"He had his adoptive family," Cary corrects, feeling like he has to.

"He should have had more," Hank says, with some anger. "I love Charles but-- He's far from perfect. He makes a lot of decisions on his own and they aren't always the right ones."

"Like leaving the planet?" Cary asks.

"The latest in a long line," Hank agrees. "He should have stayed. I understand why he left, but--" He gives a frustrated sigh. "He gave up. Burnt out, I think. He's very bad at letting anyone help him. Now I know why. Still pisses me off. I'm gonna go burn off some steam. Want to join me?"

"Yeah!" Kerry says.

"Kerry," Cary starts.

"Okay, later," Kerry adds. "Cary and I have some stuff to do first."

Hank heads off, and Cary walks back to the infirmary. Amy's taken the seat next to the Davids' bed, Syd is in the next bed, trying to sleep. Oliver is leaning over the Admiral, and Doctor Orwell is still running scans on the dust from the Davids' clothes.

Cary stops and watches the Davids sleep. The rise and fall of their chest. The memory of last night flashes before his eyes, of Joonam turning Cary's body to black dust. It hurt so much, losing his old body.

No, his old body was already gone, Farouk destroyed it long before Joonam. Joonam destroyed Cary's physical projection. No, it was already brain-dead after the disastrous swap with Syd. Too much damage for Kerry to heal, too risky to try. It couldn't be saved. They never tried to make another physical projection, they never needed to, because Cary always healed Kerry's wounds.

Except there must have been a first time. They weren't born with two bodies, they weren't twins in the womb. Kerry appeared when he was eight, playing with his trains. She was eight too, then.

Cary pushes the puzzle aside. He walks up to Doctor Orwell. "Any luck yet?"

"If this analysis is correct," Doctor Orwell says, unsure. "The mineral composition, heavy in nickel, iron, cobalt-- It appears to be from an asteroid."

"An asteroid?" Cary asked, surprised. "Not many close to Earth. Could he have found a near-earth asteroid, or did he go all the way to--"

"The asteroid belt?" Amy suggests, half-joking.

"Hundreds of millions of miles away?" Cary murmurs. "May I?" he asks Doctor Orwell, and she steps aside so he can look at the readouts. "Trace amounts of rhodium and gold. Could he have really gone that far?" Possibilities race through Cary's mind. With the constant pressure of the Divisions, it was hard to imagine how to secure a future for mutantkind. But this-- The enormous potential-- Beyond the scope of anything he'd ever dreamed.

But they can't do it without the Davids. Or perhaps they could, but it would be much more difficult. The last thing they should do is put the weight of the future on David's back again. But to have a place, a purpose-- That could be a powerful aid in healing. And not just for David's system.

Another puzzle to think about, to turn over in the back of his mind until the pieces click together.

"Did we pack any Vermillion?" Oliver asks.

"Vermillion?" Cary echoes. "No, we left them all at Division 3. Without the mainframe-- Why?"

"The Admiral's awake," Oliver says, pleased. "And they'd like their bodies back."

Chapter 209: Day 16: The whistling abruptly stops. (Syd)

Chapter Text

The whistling of a tea kettle sounds in the back of Syd's mind, high and persistent no matter how much she ignores it. The piercing noise started the moment she reached the cafeteria and David was gone, and it didn't stop when he reappeared and promptly passed out. It didn't stop while Syd slept, shallow and restless, her dreams haunted with memories, with waiting, with a year of waiting.

When she finally gave up on sleep, David and his system were still out cold. Amy was sleeping in one of the empty beds. It was early, not even dawn. She forced herself to go to her new bedroom, to change her clothes, to give Matilda fresh water and food. When she came back with a mug of steaming hot tea, David was still asleep, his chest rising and falling with each steady breath. She tried to reassure herself with it, but it wasn't enough. Oliver's assurances that all the parts of David were sleeping together in their body weren't enough.

While David's asleep, she lets herself wonder again if she should leave him. She's not sure she can survive this constant fear of losing him. But walking away just means losing him forever. That thought just makes the kettle scream louder, so she pushes it away.

Melanie was right. Syd has to stop running. She doesn't want to let her fears consume her, like Future Syd did. She doesn't want to be that version of herself. But she's still struggling with how to be anything else.

She wishes Ptonomy and Melanie and Clark were here and not off in Washington. Why do all the people she needs have to go save the world? It's a bitter thought. She still has Amy, of course, and she's thankful for that. Amy's calm support kept Syd from drowning in panic.

David wasn't off saving the world yesterday when he disappeared. He just left. He just left her behind. She's angry about that, furious about it, she wants to punish him so badly and she's so glad he's been asleep so she couldn't. The anger makes the whistling so loud it hurts her ears, so she tries to not be angry. She doesn't want David to hear what's in her head when he wakes up. She doesn't want David to ever hear what's in her head.

The hot tea has long since cooled. She forces herself to stand up and walk away from David's bed, to walk out of the infirmary. She goes back to the cafeteria and puts on the actual kettle again and waits for it to actually whistle, and breathes, breathes, steady like David's breathing.

When she gets back to the infirmary, David and Amy are still asleep, but the morning sky is warming. The mug is hot in her hands, through her gloves. She waits, and finally, finally, David stirs. His face scrunches up and he stretches, then relaxes. His eyes flutter open, and his eyes on her make her breath catch, like always.

The whistling abruptly stops.

"Hi," she greets, softly.

"Hey," David echoes, and rubs his face, looks around. "What happened?"

Syd tenses. "What do you remember?"

"Uh," David hesitates. "Feels like a dream, but-- Did I go to space?"

"You did," Syd says. She pauses, then asks, "Are your headmates awake?" As much as she wants alone time with David, she needs them right now, the parts of David that are-- Less confused.

David closes his eyes, brow lightly furrowed with concentration. And then Divad appears, yawning, in the chair beside her. Another pause, and Dvd appears, also yawning, in the chair next to Amy's bed. Despite being astral projections, they look as bleary as David.

"Are you okay?" she asks them.

"Yeah," Dvd says, as he gives a huge yawn.

"We're fine," Divad says. "Yesterday just wore us out."

"Yeah," Syd says, quietly. "Can we-- Talk about yesterday?"

All three of them go still and stare at her. Syd stares back, glancing between them and then landing on David. She's fairly sure Dvd and Divad aren't the ones who decided to suddenly teleport into deep space.

David looks away, visibly embarrassed. He rubs his hand through his hair, sighs. "Do we have to talk about this now?"

"Yes," Syd says. "David-- You really scared me. Leaving like that--" She hears the tremble in her own voice and hates it, but keeps going. "I didn't know where you were. No one could find you, not even Oliver. I get that-- You were upset about Charles but--"

"Stop," David says, suddenly emotional.

"Maybe now's not the best time," Divad says.

Syd bites back a retort. When is there ever a good time? She needs to talk about this before she's the one who--

David stares at her, stricken. "You want to leave?"

"No," Syd says, firmly, to herself and them. "But what you did hurt me, David. You disappearing like that-- Did you even think about what it would do to me?"

David gives a small shake of his head.

"He wasn't thinking at all," Dvd says, half-defense and half-accusation. What happened must have been bad if Dvd is actually mad at David about it.

"I'm sorry," David says, genuinely. He looks at Dvd with his puppy dog eyes, and then gives Syd the same look.

Syd and Dvd give identical, half-loving, half-exasperated huffs.

"I want to say it won't happen again but I can't," Divad tells them. "David decided to go after Charles."

"Divad!" David protests.

"Do you want to tell her?" Divad asks.

David shuts up and gestures for him to continue.

"David was upset," Divad continues. "Not just Charles. Everything with Farouk. Stopping him, winning-- It felt wrong. We were supposed to fail and be punished. Chasing after Charles-- It was David's way of punishing himself."

David looks away, ashamed.

"We got as far as the asteroid belt," Divad says. "Getting back took everything we had. You're right, David didn't think about what leaving would do to you or us or anyone else. It was thoughtless and stupid."

"Gee, thanks," David mutters, hurt.

"Stop yelling at him," Dvd says, coming to David's defense. "He knows he fucked up. It's over."

Divad glares furiously at Dvd for a moment, then backs down. His anger doesn't disappear but calms to a low simmer.

"Killing Farouk didn't unfuck David's head," Dvd defends. "It didn't unfuck any of us. Yeah, going to space was stupid, but nobody got hurt. We came right back so stop freaking out."

"I'm not--" Syd starts, then stops. "I don't want this to be a fight. We're all scared and hurt. Right? So can we just-- Not make it worse?"

Accept. That's what Melanie said to do. Accept herself, accept David and all his parts. Easier said than done, but she's trying. She gathers her courage, stands up, and gives David a careful hug.

David goes very still, and then sobs. Syd starts to pull back, but David stops her, clings to her. He's trembling. Her heart aches for him.

"I forgive you, okay?" she tells him, and means it. "I love you, David. I understand." And she thinks the words again, wanting him to hear the thoughts, to feel them. She knows thoughts are more real to him than anything she says aloud. That's just how he is, and she has to accept that.

"I'm sorry," David says, voice tight with pain and tears.

She can't hear his thoughts, but she can guess what's in them. She knows how he punishes himself. She sees how some of that anger comes out in Dvd and Divad. And the other headmates?

Her own anger at him fades. Of course David broke down yesterday. His system was invaded and shattered and reborn all in one night, and that wounded system was pushed through an impossible situation to stop Farouk for good. It was hard to remember that when she was caught up in her own pain and fear. But Dvd's right: killing Farouk didn't magically undo the damage he left behind.

"I'm sorry," David says again, softer and weary. He lets Syd go and wraps his arms around his knees, rests his head on his knees. Whatever he's thinking, Dvd and Divad react to it, their expressions softening, too.

"Our love is ours, not his," Dvd says, stubbornly and without explanation.

David just accepts that with a tired nod.

Syd remembers when she grieved for the David she fell in love with in Clockworks. The David who was sweet and powerless and sick. It hurt so much to lose him. But if she can accept all of him, his powers and his system and his wounds-- She can see that he's still that David. He always has been.

Like Ptonomy said, David has always been David. She doesn't need to grieve what's right in front of her. And that realization-- It calms something in her.

"How are your other headmates?" Syd asks. "Are they okay? Yesterday must have been hard for them, too."

"Davey," Dvd says, with an edge of worry.

"Is he awake?" Syd asks.

Divad and Dvd exchange a meaningful look, and then Dvd vanishes. When he reappears, Davey is in his arms, as bleary and tense as his headmates.

"Here," Syd says, opening her arms. "I'll take him."

Dvd hesitates, surprised. He glances over at Amy, still asleep, and then gives Davey to Syd. As soon as Davey is in Syd's arms, he holds on to her so tightly, just like he did before.

"Hey," she says to him, softly. "I'm here. Everything's okay." She runs a soothing hand through his curly hair, rubs his back. They're not on the astral plane anymore, but there's no needles under her skin, and he feels solid and real. Davey relaxes in her arms, and she gives him a soft smile. She's surprised at how grateful she suddenly feels.

When she looks up, she sees David staring at her with-- Surprise? Jealousy? Happiness? Maybe all of them. He visibly eases, lets go of his knees and stretches back out. Dvd and Divad relax, too.

This is better, Syd thinks. In the past she would have been angry, pushed into her bruises until they bled, and she would have been perversely glad for the pain. But she never had to live that way and she doesn't have to now. They can talk about how they feel and it can be okay. Future Syd never learned that, but Syd did. That version of herself-- It's not her path anymore.

"You wanna--" Dvd asks.

Divad sighs. "I'll get them." He braces himself and disappears. A few moments later, he reappears along with the last two members of David's system.

Amahl and the other David stand close together in a way that obviously disturbs Dvd, Divad, and David. Syd can't blame them. The sight of what is essentially a copy of Farouk is-- Upsetting at best. To have the younger David-- Dependent on Amahl--

That relationship led to them becoming Joonam, before. That's not something they can allow to repeat.

The younger David frowns at her. Can he read her thoughts? She thought only David has external telepathy.

"I can hear you," the younger David says, stiffly.

"Oh," Syd says. Shit. "Sorry."

"I'm David, too," the younger David says, clearly not interested in her apology. "And so is he, no matter what you call him. We're all David."

"I like Davey," Davey says, with an adorable pout. "Amy calls me that."

"Stop pretending to be asleep," the younger David tells Amy.

Amy sits up, blushing. "I didn't want to interrupt. Um, good morning."

Davey jumps out of Syd's lap and rushes over to Amy. Amy greets him with a big hug. Syd fights back a pang of jealousy. There is, quite literally, more than enough David to go around.

David gives an amused snort and fights a smile. The younger David is less amused. Syd tries to not think it, but she can't help but be reminded of a surly teenager.

"I'm not a child," the younger David tells her.

"It's all right, my dear," Amahl soothes. "Don't let her bother you." He touches the younger David's back familiarly.

This calms the younger David, but absolutely does not calm David. David swallows in a familiar way, and Syd wonders if she should preemptively grab a trash bin.

"Amahl," Divad says, intervening. He gives Amahl a pointed look and nods his head at David's nauseated expression.

Amahl sighs and takes a step away from the younger David.

"No," the younger David says, angry. "You're not taking him away from me."

"We need to remove those memories," Divad says, firmly. "They're not ours and they're hurting us."

"They're not hurting me," says the younger David, and then his defiance falters to something more vulnerable. "I need him."

Divad softens. "David--"

"Ptonomy told you," the younger David says, voice wavering. "I need him, you can't take him away from me."

"No one's taking anything from anyone right now," Dvd says, intervening. "You think Divad's gonna pop us into brain surgery? We just almost died in space." He says it pointedly, to Divad.

Divad backs down. "Right. No impromptu brain surgery." He holds up his hands in surrender.

"Good," the younger David says, calming. But there's tears in his eyes, and instead of turning to Dvd for solace, he turns to Amahl and hugs him.

Dvd and Divad are quietly horrified, and David-- David is gone.

"David!" Syd gasps, fearing the worst.

"It's okay," Dvd tells her. "He's just-- C'mere." He takes her hand, and then suddenly they're in one of the mansion bathrooms. David is kneeling in an open stall, dry heaving.

Dvd groans. "What a fucking mess," he mutters. "Great job, Ptonomy," he says, bitterly.

"Yeah," Syd sighs, in deep agreement. She gets why Ptonomy did what he did, making the best of a bad situation, but all he did was kick the can down the road. And now they're running out of road. "So now what?"

"Hell if I know," Dvd admits. "But we gotta get those memories out of our head."

"So when's the brain surgery?" Syd asks.

"Divad's ready," Dvd says. "I'm ready. David, you ready?"

David sits down on the tile floor and groans. "Get him out of me. Again."

Syd vividly recalls the last time David went in for brain surgery. David's awful screams during the memory transfer as they brought over the younger David's memories-- In hindsight, knowing they were bringing over Farouk's memories, too-- She's going to have nightmares about that for a long time.

"We are not rushing into this," Syd says, certain. "Farouk tricked us before. What if taking out his memories does something else?"

"What if those two decide they'd rather be Joonam again?" Dvd counters.

"I hate all of this," David groans, miserable. He looks at Dvd and Syd with desperate pleading.

Syd is suddenly very glad she's not facing this with David alone, her and her single palm tree on a desert island. She's glad that David has a system and family and friends and a whole mutant community ready to help him. They need an army to deal with the mountain of bullshit Farouk left behind.

"Hey," Syd says, and kneels down beside him on the cold tile. "You're not facing this alone. Everything's gonna be okay."

David looks very unconvinced.

Syd turns to Dvd for help.

"Okay," Dvd says. "New plan. Divide and conquer. Syd, you stay with David. Take him to breakfast. Amy will bring Davey. Divad's gonna talk to Oliver. And I'm gonna go play chaperone. make sure those two don't do anything stupid."

Dvd gets a very determined face. He disappears, but then reappears, walks over to David, and kisses him on the forehead. "I love you. We're gonna fix this. Okay?"

"Okay," David echoes, quietly. Syd can see the hope and despair warring on his face.

Dvd disappears again. David looks haggard.

"C'mon, up," Syd says. She stands and offers her gloved hands. David takes them and she helps him to his unsteady feet.

David pauses in front of the sink mirrors and stares at his reflection. Whatever he sees there, it doesn't please him.

"I'm not hungry," he tells Syd.

"That's okay," Syd says, taking his arm and leading him out of the bathroom. "Maybe a little toast?"

"Maybe," David says. They walk out into the finely decorated hall and David stops.

"David?" Syd says, worried.

"I'm sorry about yesterday," David says, as he stares at yet another portrait of Charles Xavier. The damn things are everywhere. "I just-- Everything--" He stops, sighs. "Divad's right, I was being stupid, but--"

"But what?" Syd prompts, when David trails off.

"I'm scared," David admits. "Not about the surgery. I mean, I'm terrified of the surgery. But it's--" He swallows. "I've spent my whole life-- Running from the monster. And I couldn't even do that because he was inside me the whole time." He pauses, looking nauseous again, but recovers. "I did-- All that foundation work but--" He finally looks at Syd, and his eyes are red and teary. "I know why he doesn't want to let Farouk go. Who are we without him?"

"You're David," Syd says, certain.

"David the victim," David says, bitterly. But he sighs. "Maybe not. But I don't want to be David Xavier. I don't want to stay here. But I don't--" He swallows.

"We don't have to stay," Syd tells him, understanding the problem. "Figuring out who you want to be-- We do that by just-- Being. Trying things out. That's how it's supposed to work. Farouk got in the way of that, but he's gone. We're gonna get his memories out of your head and-- You're gonna find out who David is just by being David."

"You make it sound easy," David says.

"It's not," Syd admits. "It's confusing and messy. But it's also-- Exciting. Freeing. Trying new things, meeting new people." She thinks back to her teenage years and gives a rueful laugh. "Honestly, I don't really know-- Who Syd is now, either. I guess-- We can find out together?"

David stares at her.

"What?" Syd asks, self-conscious.

"Can I kiss you?" David asks in a rush, and then falters. "I mean-- you don't have to-- It's okay if--"

Syd stops David's rambling by putting a gloved finger over his lips. She can feel the needles under her skin, reminding her that this is David's physical body, not an astral projection. Reminding David that she wears these gloves for a very good reason. She meets his eyes and sees that he understands.

"Okay," she says, and drops her hand.

"I'm gonna try--" David starts, and then closes his eyes in concentration. As Syd watches, his face becomes strangely doubled, and she realizes it's the face of his astral form layered just over his physical face. Clever.

When he opens his eyes, she grins, and he grins back twice. She reaches up and touches a gloved hand to the back of his head, feeling needles under her skin. But when their faces touch, all she feels is the soft warmth of his lips against her own.

"I love you so much," she says, as they rest their bare foreheads safely against each other. Her heart hurts, but not from pulling her pain tight around it. Instead it's so full it could burst.

And then she feels-- What David is feeling right now. Terrified and hopeful, devastated and excited, lost and found, and a dozen other conflicting emotions swirling through it all. But most of all she feels how much he loves her, and how grateful he is to have her, and how happy she made him with just a few words.

She laughs and kisses him again.

Chapter 210: Day 16: Did you find any aliens? (David)

Chapter Text

As David walks through the hallway, every step takes far too much effort. He can hardly believe how exhausted he feels. He used to have an entire other person living inside him, sucking him dry. He has a deep and intimate relationship with exhaustion. But this--

The last couple days-- Teleporting to the asteroid belt probably didn't help. In the moment, going after Charles felt like the only option. But now a wave of moderate humiliation washes over him. It's hardly the biggest display he's made out of himself, but--

His head aches too much to overthink it. His stomach is sore but Syd's suggestion of toast is starting to appeal to him. The stress of the morning is starting to ease, and he focuses on his surroundings.

Syd’s walking beside him, her thoughts a comforting mix of concern and love. The morning sun is bright through the windows, casting squares of warm light over them as they walk. There’s a burble of thoughts and voices up ahead, coming from the cafeteria. He absently identifies each mind, recognizing Ptonomy's family, Doctor Orwell and her team, Clark's son, those therapists, that mutant girl and her dragon--

He stops short. "Where's Lenny?" She was in the cafeteria when he left, but that was hours ago. He doesn't hear her anywhere in the mansion. Panic and guilt jab at him. He was supposed to fix her memories and instead he-- What if she-- What if--

Syd takes careful hold of his arms. "David, it's okay," she soothes. "Lenny's fine, she just-- She needed some space."

David gives a weak laugh.

Syd rolls her eyes and gives a little huff. 'Pun not intended,' she thinks. "She borrowed a motorcycle. She said she'd be back. You can find her anywhere anyway, right?"

"Right," Davie echoes, trying to calm down. He belatedly realizes he almost ran straight into a shame attack. Or a panic attack, or both. God, he's a wreck. All of this-- He just--

Breathe. In and out, just breathe. Lenny's not Charles, she's just a human who can't even shield. How far can a bike go in a day? Less than a day. Breathe. Listen.

There. She's riding fast, but she's not going anywhere, she's just going. He can feel her relief at being alone, at the wind in her face and in her hair. She takes a hairpin turn too fast and her heart races and he feels her joy.

She's okay. She was trapped inside of other people for years, of course she needs to just-- Get away.

He hesitates, unsure if he should-- Should he leave her alone? He knows she wants to be alone but—

‘Lenny?’ he thinks, tentative, when the road straightens out again.

Lenny mentally flinches, but then eases. 'Yeah.’

‘You okay?’

‘Yeah,’ she thinks, but tersely. She doesn’t feel joyful anymore, but tense, wary.

David pauses, not sure what to say. It’s all just— Everything they went through, everything Lenny went through, and so much of it feels like his fault. Even though it’s not, he knows it’s not. It doesn’t matter what he knows.

'I'll be here when you're ready,’ he thinks to her.

‘Okay,' she thinks.

'Okay,' David thinks back.

He can feel how much she wants this brief conversation to end, to go back to pretending the last year of her life never happened. But he can't help but send her a little burst of how much he cares about her. Even if she needs to be alone-- He doesn't want her to feel alone.

Her thoughts are reluctantly grateful. He lets her go.

"She's okay," he tells Syd. It hurts that Lenny left, but he understands. If he could run away from himself right now, he would.

He starts forward again, but his steps feel even heavier.

They reach the cafeteria, and the ball of dread in his stomach has erased even the faint desire for toast. He feels like he's back in Cary's lab again, or in his Division prison cell. The idea of healing, of fixing the disaster his system has become-- It feels overwhelming, impossible. It’s so much, how could he ever—

And then he walks right into a Vermillion.

"Oh!" David startles, steps back and regains his footing. "Uh-- Oh!" A Vermillion? But the Admiral--

And then David realizes that the Admiral wasn't in the infirmary when he woke up. And of course the mainframe shields the Admiral from telepaths so he didn't--

"Hi," David says, dumbly. "Uh, Admiral?"

The Vermillion stares back, as impassive as always. Again, David is mentally pulled back to Division 3. But Ptonomy isn't inside this android, or Lenny or Amy. It's just the Admiral, and even inside his own body, the Admiral has never been-- Expressive.

"David Haller," the Vermillion says, in its familiar, musical tone. "We are glad you are awake."

"Uh, thanks," David says, and forces himself to look around. The Admiral isn’t physically here. There’s everyone he sensed before, sitting around a few pushed-together tables. Who else? Amy is leaving the infirmary, heading here. Oliver? The Karies?

Ah. They’re together in another cluster of minds. Cary and Kerry, Oliver, Hank, and Forge. They’re thinking about the Admiral, something about the mainframe— And Cary just noticed Divad in the room with them--

“David,” Doctor Orwell greets, warmly. “Good morning. How are you feeling? Please, join us.”

"I'll be right back," Syd tells him, and heads into the kitchen.

Doctor Orwell gestures to an empty chair. David sits. He looks around at everyone. There’s nothing hostile coming from them, but—

Buster is staring at him, a little scared and a lot curious. All of them are curious, and it's-- David shifts, nervous. “I miss anything?” he asks, lightly.

"Did you really go to space?" Buster asks.

"Let the poor man have his breakfast first," Mara tells Buster. She turns to David. "Sorry about that."

"It's okay," David says, softly. One of Joonam's memories flashes through him, of Buster terrified and crying. Buster should hate him for that, for-- But they stopped Joonam. They stopped being Joonam before-- He should-- It would probably help Buster if he-- But yesterday, it's just-- It's all so raw.

He doesn't know what to say about anything. He almost killed all these people. Farouk wanted Joonam to do worse than kill them. How's he supposed to just-- Sit here and eat with them and make small talk?

"Space is boring," Kitty says, confidently. "You know what space is? A lot of nothing. Going to another planet, that's what's cool. Did you go to another planet?"

"Uh, no," David admits.

Kitty picks up a piece of bacon and tosses it into the air, and her dragon leaps up and chomps it. The dragon lands on the table with a thump and loudly eats.

"Lockheed's an alien," Kitty says. "He's from another galaxy. Did you find any aliens?"

David thinks, briefly, of the weird black goo creature that attacked Division 3, but he has no idea what that thing was. "No, no aliens," he decides.

"Lockheed's so cool," Buster says. He reaches out and offers his hand, and the little dragon lets him pet it.

Amy arrives, much to David's relief. Davey is with her, and looks only slightly better than David feels. Davey brightens when he sees Kitty and Buster, though.

"Finally!" Kitty says, relieved. "You just disappeared, we were really worried."

"Are you okay?" Buster asks.

"Yeah," Davey says. He looks at David and then looks away. "Can we go play?" he asks Amy.

Amy glances at David, unsure. "I suppose."

"I'll keep an eye on them," Mara offers. "If you keep an eye on Martin."

"Deal," Amy says.

"Outer space!" Davey tells Kitty and Buster, excitedly, as they head out of the cafeteria.

"Wow, that's so cool!" Kitty says. Lockheed perches on her shoulder. "Space is the best. You have to tell us everything."

David stares after them, then shakes his head, bewildered. He's not entirely sure what just happened. But he feels a little better anyway.

Amy sits down across from him and gives him a soft, warm smile. He musters a small smile back, and slumps in his chair, closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh.

Syd arrives with a tray and three plates of breakfast. She gives one to Amy, one to David, and takes one for herself. Bacon and scrambled eggs and toast. David picks up a piece of toast and nibbles at it.

"Syd, how are you holding up?" one of the therapists asks. David can't recall if he ever got her name. He waits for someone to think it, and it doesn't take long: Minnie.

"Better now," Syd says, politely.

"Maybe we could have a session later?" Minnie asks. "Ptonomy asked me to step in for him."

Syd considers the offer. "Probably a good idea," she admits. "How's he doing? In DC?"

"It's chaos," says the male therapist. "The whole world's pissed at us over the Divisions."

"They're already holding hearings," says the third therapist. "Looking for a few good scapegoats."

"That sounds bad," David says. "What about Clark and Daniel?"

"We'll see," Doctor Orwell says, soberly. "Officially the Divisions don't exist. That means Division employees don't exist either. A lot of powerful people have a lot to lose if that changes. But now that everyone remembers--" She pauses, then looks at David, meeting his eyes. "I'm sorry. For what we did to you, to so many mutants--"

"You didn't--" David starts. Doctor Orwell only helped him, she helped Cary--

"We believed we were doing the right thing," Doctor Orwell says. "But me, my team-- We were given orders to do-- Things we regret. Then we were made to forget all of it. And now we have those memories back."

"Oh," David says, realizing. "I'm sure you didn't--"

"We did," Doctor Orwell says, calm but firm. "We were fighting a war for the survival of humanity. That mindset-- It allows for a lot of terrible things. Those things only stopped a year ago. I worked for the Divisions for a long time, David."

David can only nod. All the history he's in the middle of, the history of his birth family and the Divisions and-- All this history he still doesn't remember, even though everyone else does. He has memories of being Joonam, but he doesn't have the memories Joonam did. All those decades of his life are locked away in the other David, and in Davey. And even Davey can't remember Charles, probably.

Probably. He has no idea. He hasn't really spoken with Davey at all. They're headmates sharing a body but they've barely shared a room. He thinks of how Davey looked at him just now and the distance between them feels impossibly vast. Worse than trying to reach Charles.

He thinks of his rocket lamp, suddenly. Did they bring it? They must have. They were going to put it back together, but now-- Together is the last thing his system feels.

He looks over at the Vermillion, and realizes it's been staring at him this whole time. Back in Division 3, when he still had his powers, he was always startled by the Vermillion's presence. Not being able to feel their minds, the Admiral's mind--

But the Admiral helped him a lot. He helped Amy and Lenny and Ptonomy. Even if the Admiral's whole way of being is-- Hard for David to comprehend--

"Do you want to--" he starts, unsure. He gestures at one of the empty chairs.

The Vermillion continues to impassively stare at him. It cocks its head slightly to the left. Then it walks over and sits down, back ramrod straight.

"Admiral, how are you doing?" Amy asks it.

"Recalibration is at twenty-two percent," the Vermillion says. "Mainframe integrity check twelve percent. Data defragmentation five percent. Data feeds are disconnected."

"I'm sure it'll all be done in no time," Amy says. She turns to David. "The Admiral woke up yesterday. Physically they're healed, but the mainframe was damaged. They're in the lab with Cary and Forge and, well, everyone else."

"In fact, me and my team are due back," Doctor Orwell says. "Would you like to jon us?"

David considers it, but-- "Maybe later?"

"Of course," Doctor Owell says. She looks down at her empty plate, then at her watch. "Everyone ready?"

The researchers finish off their breakfasts and clean up after themselves. The Vermillion doesn't leave with them. It's still staring at him, or at least in his direction. They're supposed to be some kind of hive mind. Is that like being a system? Every system's supposed to be different. David vaguely remembers-- When he first woke up in Division 3 and met the Admiral-- The Vermillion told him they were hurt. Someone put the mainframe into their head and it hurt them. Maybe the pain-- Like having painful memories forced into them-- Maybe that made a system, too.

"I'm sorry," David tells the Vermillion. He tries to say more, to explain what he means, but he can't-- He just--

"David?" It's the male therapist, David still hasn't caught his name. "I don't think we were properly introduced."

"You're the therapists," David says. "Cary's-- For New Summerland, right?" Or something like that.

"That was the plan," says the therapist, wryly. "But you know what they say about plans. Right now we're just excited to see where all this goes, and find ways to help. My name's Marcelle, by the way. This is Miriam and Minnie." He gestures to the other therapists.

David gives them a small nod.

"We were briefed on your history," Marcelle says. "We know that Ptonomy is your primary therapist. But while he's away, if there's something you'd like to talk about-- We're here to help."

David swallows. Of course they were briefed. The Divisions spied on him the whole time he was there, Oliver relayed his thoughts, and who knows how many people they shared all that with? He's an international threat, a danger to humanity, or at least he was. He's not sure what he is now.

He wants to ask the Admiral what the current odds are of him ending the world. He hopes they're lower. But he doesn't think the Admiral can answer that yet. He's not sure he wants an answer.

"I don't, uh--" David starts. He's been through a lot of therapists, and none of them ever helped him like Ptonomy. The thought of starting over with someone new-- Even if they have all of his files-- "I'm gonna-- Stick with Ptonomy."

"Of course," Marcelle says, but David can sense his disappointment. Marcelle was excited at the idea of helping David. Somehow that only makes David need to see Ptonomy more.

The impulse is there to just-- Teleport himself to DC. It's not like it would be difficult. But after his last impulsive teleport-- He should probably check first.

'Divad?' David thinks, reaching out. 'Can you check if-- Ptonomy can do a session?'

'Right now?' Divad thinks back.

'Right now,' David thinks, letting some of his urgency leak through.

'Hold on,' Divad thinks. There's a long pause. 'If the two of us go to DC, will that pull everyone else with us, like before?'

'Probably not,' David thinks. There's a big difference between going to the asteroid belt and going anywhere on Earth.

Another pause. 'I told Dvd, and he's telling the others,' Divad thinks. 'Just in case. Oliver's talking to Ptonomy. We should bring Syd.'

'We?' David asks.

'Buddy system,' Divad thinks, firmly. 'And Syd hates being left behind.'

'She does,' David thinks, with a mental sigh. He turns to Syd. "Divad's arranging a session for me in DC. With Ptonomy. Right now. You wanna come?"

"Yes," Syd says, immediately and with relief even a non-telepath couldn't miss. Divad was definitely right on that one. "That's a great idea."

Divad appears in the cafeteria. "Morning," he says, with a quick wave to the therapists and Ptonomy's dad.

Amy stands up and walks over to Divad. "I didn't get to say this before. I'm glad you're okay." And she pulls him into a big hug.

"Oh," Divad says, obviously affected. "Yeah." He softens. He reluctantly lets Amy go. "You wanna come too?"

Amy hesitates, looks over at Martin, who's obliviously picking over his breakfast.

"We can watch him," Marcelle offers.

"I've never been to DC," Amy says. "I should probably pack something."

"Dunno if we'll be there long. If we stay overnight, David can make you a toothbrush," Divad says, half-joking.

"What about your headmates?" Amy asks.

David falters. He tries to find the words, then gives up and gives Divad a pleading look.

"Dvd's staying with them," Divad says. "Let's get David to Ptonomy."

Amy nods. She walks over to David, and pulls him into a hug, just like she did Divad. David is affected, too, and a tiny fraction of stress eases out of him.

"It'll be okay," she tells him, far more certain than she has any right to be. "We'll all be okay, okay?"

"Okay," David says, tightly. He doesn't believe it, but her confidence makes him feel slightly less bleak.

He's not facing any of this alone. He hugs Amy again, breathes and breathes. He feels her long hair against his cheek, her living heart beating in her chest. She's alive. He saved her. She's not a disembodied soul trapped in an android, in a mainframe. She ate breakfast with him. She's alive.

He lets her go and wipes his eyes. "Okay," he says, and takes Amy's hand. Divad offers his hand to Syd, and in a blink, the cafeteria is gone.

Chapter 211: Day 16: Did it help? Going out there? (David)

Chapter Text

There’s something oddly comforting about crying his eyes out in front of Ptonomy.

"Sorry," David mumbles, embarrassed anyway about breaking down the moment they arrived. He blows his nose and tosses the used tissue into the surprisingly nice trash bin Ptonomy set nearby. He grabs another tissue and blots at his eyes, and slumps back in the chair, exhausted on top of exhausted.

"Have some water," Ptonomy offers, leaning forward in his chair to offer a bottle.

David takes it, and absently notes that there's mug of coffee on the desk beside them. Because Ptonomy has a living body again, not an android one. He's alive, like Amy and Lenny. It's still sinking in, that they're alive, even though he's the one who made their bodies. It all happened so fast.

"Rough morning?" Ptonomy asks, wryly. Fond humor ripples out of him.

David groans.

"I don't have the mainframe's data feeds anymore, but I'm caught up on what happened yesterday," Ptonomy says. "Want to talk about it?"

David shakes his head. He struggles to gather his thoughts. He feels Divad and Syd and Amy waiting in the next room, worried for him, wanting him to be okay. There's other minds too, mutant ones, but he needs to focus. He needs to--

"I need to be okay," he says, grabbing onto his first clear thought.

"And you're not okay?" Ptonomy asks.

"Obviously," David says, faintly annoyed. But he realizes it's just Ptonomy being in therapist mode. "I'm a disaster. My whole system is a disaster and I don't know how to fix it. I don't even know if we can be fixed. Farouk fucked us over and he's gone but I'm stuck with a copy of him in my head, I can't--" Frustration chokes him. He doesn't want to think about Amahl, doesn't want to be sick again, he's sick of feeling sick and violated by a monster that no matter how many times is killed just won't stay dead.

Another sob burts out of him, from frustration, from grief and pain. It was supposed to be over. He did what they told him to and let Farouk go. But it wasn't enough. Nothing's enough.

"David," Ptonomy says, all concern now. "Do you want someone right now? Amy, Divad? Syd?"

David struggles. He knows they want to help him, and he does want their help. But-- Not right now. Not here. He shakes his head, tries to just-- Breathe. Just breathe.

He uses up a few more tissues, drinks more water. He feels like he went to space and back all over again.

"You know, things have been a little wild, the past few days," Ptonomy says, in a soothing understatement. "Farouk attacking you, us needing your help in stopping him-- We really tried to avoid all of that. I'm sorry we failed you."

"You didn't--" David starts, reflexively.

"We did," Ptonomy says, somber. "It was never fair to make you responsible for stopping him. Never. That was already a mistake we made twice, and we didn't want to repeat it. I really wish we'd found another way."

"Yeah," David says, tiredly. "Me too."

"David, you and your system," Ptonomy starts. "To say you've been retraumatized doesn't begin to cover it. It makes complete sense for you to be feeling the way you do, for your whole system to be upset and wounded right now. And on top of that, the safe place we built together in Division 3, in Cary's lab-- Farouk took that away from all of us. Right now, we're all just trying to find our feet again, to find someplace to land. And that's gonna take a little time."

"Yeah," David says again. It all makes sense, he just-- "I don't think I can wait."

"That's why we're going to start building what you need right now," Ptonomy says. "We're gonna talk about what the biggest problems are and start finding solutions. David, you and your system saved us, you saved everyone under the worst possible circumstances. Farouk shook us up but the work we did, all that healing and building? Making new foundations for your whole system? That work is what carried all of us through. We just have to keep doing the work."

David lets out a shuddering breath, ending in a dry, weak laugh. "You always make things sound manageable."

"That's because they are," Ptonomy says, and he means it, somehow. "What do you think? Should we start you on a new notebook, or pull out the old one?"

The idea of starting fresh is briefly tempting. But Ptonomy's right, David needs that foundation now more than ever. He's not sure where his notebook is exactly, back at the mansion somewhere. But he needs it so much, he just-- Pulls it to him, and it's suddenly in his hands.

Just holding it is a relief. He touches the worn edges of the notebook, opens it and-- He remembers being a fragment, unable to even remember his own name. He remembers Divad giving him a notebook he couldn't recognize. He remembers--

He flips to the back and pulls out the stack of loose papers. "Things that helped me remember," he echoes, and looks at-- A photo of his family. Amy and Mom and Dad-- The scans Cary made of him and his headmates thinking, the scan showing-- Where the other David's memories used to be. Dvd's writing practice, trying to warm back up to being a person again after-- After being trapped for so long. The name cards.

It hurts, looking at them, all of them. Because they mean so much. Because he forgot them for a while, all that meaning stolen from him after he worked so hard to make it.

"After the surgery," David starts, letting the words work out of him. "We were-- All my memories, I couldn't--" He stares at the name cards, at the brain scans. "I couldn't remember anything. It was all gone, everything was gone. And I just wanted them back. I became Joonam so I could get them back, I didn't--" His voice cracks, grief overcoming him, violation. "I remember being him. He was--" He swallows, throat tight. "It was like before. When Farouk-- When we--"

He can't finish, can barely explain, but Ptonomy nods, understanding.

"It felt amazing and it felt so awful," David continues, eyes full of tears. "I remembered everything. And the part of Joonam that was me-- I had what I wanted. But the only way I could keep it-- Was to not be me. I couldn't be David. I couldn't be whole and David. But that was-- That would've been okay, you know?" He would have given that up, to be whole. If Farouk hadn't-- If he'd just been satisfied and stopped pushing--

But Farouk would never have stopped pushing. He would never have stopped hurting David just for being David, even when he was Joonam. Never.

"But you stopped being Joonam," Ptonomy reminds him.

"We failed," David admits, caught up in the memory. "We didn't deserve to be Joonam. We failed so we had to be David." There was so much of the other David in Joonam, and his self-loathing was so strong-- "He hates himself so much. The other David. Maybe Davey too, I don't-- I'm afraid of them. The other David hates me. How are we supposed to make this work? And Amahl, I can't-- I need him to be gone. I need Farouk to be gone. But even if Divad erases him-- He'll never be gone. All the memories he took from me-- They're full of him. He poisoned them. He made sure I'll never be whole without him. And I hate him so much. I hate him."

He finally stops, throat too tight to speak. He's trembling with anger and violation and every kind of upset. His whole life, the life he remembers, he spent desperately trying to-- To put himself back together. He didn't know Farouk had ripped him apart, stolen so much. He didn't know anything. And now that he does know-- It's all ashes in his mouth.

"David," Ptonomy says, after a pause. "I know you want your memories back, all of them. But there's a reason your system has three Davids right now. Just like there's a reason for Dvd and Divad to exist. You don't want to fuse with them, right?"

"No," David agrees, tightly.

"The David you are now is already whole," Ptonomy says, with a familiar gentle but firm tone. "You've been this David for a decade. Yes, you've forgotten a lot about your past. But you're here and you're loved and you've already healed so much. There is no reason for you to force yourself to fuse with these other Davids."

"But they're me," David protests.

"You're a system," Ptonomy reminds him. "You are all parts of one system. Davey is just as much a headmate as Dvd."

"It's different," David insists.

"Why?" Ptonomy asks. "Because you have the same name?"

"We weren't supposed to be separate," David says, certain.

"Then why are you separate?" Ptonomy challenges. "You were Joonam and you failed. Okay. Then what happened?"

"Amahl broke off," David says, faltering. "And he was hurting me so-- Dvd and Divad broke off, to stop him."

"Makes sense," Ptonomy says. "And then you were one David?"

"Yes," David admits. For a few moments, he was whole and he was David and everything hurt so much. And then-- He remembers Dvd leaning over him, telling him to just-- Let go. Spread the load. Part of him wishes he'd refused. Another part of him knows it was the right choice, the only choice.

"I wasn't strong enough," David admits, ashamed. "They're not supposed to suffer, I am."

"Because David is supposed to suffer?"

"Yes," David says, certain. He knows it's wrong but it feels so true. Just like when they were out in space, and he was certain he had to find Charles no matter how much it hurt him. He has to be the one to suffer, not anyone else in his system. Even if they're called David, too.

"It's not your job to suffer," Ptonomy reminds him. "Just like it's not Divad's job to punish you, or Dvd's job to hurt Divad."

It feels like it should be. When Divad yelled at him this morning-- It was what he deserved.

"David," Ptonomy says, and David can feel his worry. He can hear Ptonomy's thoughts stopping and starting, struggling to find the right thing to say. David couldn't hear all that when Ptonomy was in the mainframe. It startles him now, nudges him back, just an inch, from the cliff he was staring down.

"You've been through extremes," Ptonomy says, thoughts finally resolving into words. "You experienced not having any memories at all. You experienced having all of David's memories, and all of your entire system's memories. After all that, after finally getting what you've wanted for so long-- You chose to keep the memories you have now. To be the David you are now. Do you have any memories that once belonged to any of your headmates? Do you know?"

 

David hesitates, thinking. Does he? He looks down at the papers again, at the Haller family photo. He knows the faces of his parents, but only because Amy showed them to him. He doesn't remember actually knowing their faces. He doesn't remember growing up with Dvd and Divad. He doesn't remember Mom being sick, he doesn't remember being imprisoned in his own body because he was too broken to function, he doesn't remember being a passenger while Divad went to college.

He remembers the false memories Farouk made for him. Growing up happy, except for when he wasn't. Going to college and Amy being proud of him. And then one day everything just fell apart, and he spiraled into self-destruction and ended up in a mental hospital for six years. He remembers two decades of fake, mostly happy memories, and then another decade of being confused and miserable and terrified.

"I don't think so," David admits. He has the memories he's always had. Maybe if he-- If he had Divad erase his fake memories, the ones Farouk created for him. Maybe if those were gone--

But they're who he is. The ragged scraps of self he sewed into a quilt-- If he loses them, what does he have left? The real memories in Davey and the other David? Should Divad just stitch them all back together? The thought horrifies him.

He knows what it's like to remember nothing, and to remember everything. He chose to keep the memories he has now, to be himself. He needed to just be himself.

"So that's it?" he asks, bleakly. "After all that-- I'll never be able to remember?"

"You can remember," Ptonomy says, certain. "But it's not all or nothing. It's not right now or never. Remember the plan? Get the memories back, let them be separate, then heal at your own pace. We got the first step done and Farouk threw a hell of a wrench into the works. But that doesn't change the plan, right?"

David shrugs, half-accepting.

"It's okay if it feels impossible right now," Ptonomy says. "Your system went through a massive trauma. Frankly you've been handling it amazingly well."

David scoffs.

"I mean it," Ptonomy says. "Your system is working together, helping each other. You're accepting help from the people who care about you. Nothing is going to be fixed or solved overnight and that's okay."

"I dragged everyone into space," David protests.

"And you came right back," Ptonomy says. "Did it help? Going out there?"

David rubs his face. He thinks about carving the huge NO on that asteroid. He went out there to find Charles but-- Going out that far, where no one could reach him, pushing himself that hard-- It was a release. All that pressure he was feeling-- Despite his exhaustion and everything he's facing--

"Yes," he admits.

"I'm glad," Ptonomy says, and means it. "If you need to pop into space to burn off steam, to take a break from everyone, that's a tool you have now. I bet it was quiet out there."

"So quiet," David agrees, remembering. Like having the crown on again, but without the pain. It was dark and empty and beautiful and limitless. "My dad was an astronomer. We used to go out and--" He stops, choked by a wave of grief. He wanted to have the real memories. He still wants them. It's not fair.

"David?" Ptonomy prompts.

"You said I can fix this. Right? If we heal then-- I can get the memories back. So tell me what to do."

Ptonomy pauses. He takes a sip from his coffee, puts the mug back down. "How about we make a plan? You need a pen?" He grabs one from the desk and offers it.

David takes the pen. It's fancy, like everything else in this office. He's finally calming down enough to be curious about where they are, but he wants to stay focused. He flips to the first blank page in his notebook.

It feels like it should be a new list. What should he call it? Recovery Plan, he writes, in large letters at the top, and underlines it. He looks at Ptonomy expectantly.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, thoughtful. "Let's think about what helped you before. This isn't an entirely new situation. When Dvd and Divad came back, the three of you had to build new relationships. You spent time together. You talked about how you were feeling, what you needed. Have you started doing any of that with your new headmates?"

"Not really," David admits.

"Talking's a good place to start."

"Right now I can't even be in the same room with the other David," David admits. "You told the other David to rely on Amahl. Seeing them together--" He shakes his head. "I can deal with them separately but--"

"Okay," Ptonomy says, considering. "You're right, I did do that. We needed to get your system to let Farouk go. But that's done now. Having Farouk's memories in your system-- We do have to get those out as soon as possible."

"Please," David says, with feeling.

"It would help if I had a session with the other David," Ptonomy says. "But I think we already know the problem. The other David-- The life he knew, the system he had-- Farouk took all that away. In that dreamworld he created, he made the other David dependent on him. All of that was to make Joonam happen. Joonam's over, but the damage is done. You're in his place. Dvd and Divad are older, they've spent a decade without him. Amy's situation is the same. Your adoptive father is gone. He must feel incredibly alone. Amahl must feel like all he has, just like Farouk was all he had."

David nods, knowing it's all true.

"With all that, we can't just take Amahl away from him, not without doing more damage," Ptonomy continues. "He has to agree to let Amahl go. That means he has to feel like he belongs in his system again. Do you think you can do that?"

David wants to say yes. He wants to but-- "I don't know."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, without judgment. "Let's talk about why."

David give a huff of frustration. If it was that easy-- "I don't know."

"If his name wasn't David, would you feel the same way?"

"Probably not," David admits.

"From your perspective, he's you," Ptonomy says. "A part of you that you failed, just like Davey. Right?"

David nods, feeling a fresh wave of shame.

"You tried to stay together, but it was too much," Ptonomy says. "You chose to let those parts of yourself go. You only kept the memories that you felt were yours. So on some level, Davey and the other David don't feel like you. You don't recognize them as yourself."

"I guess," David says, not sure where this is going.

"Let's lean into that," Ptonomy suggests. "I want you to recognize that boundary you feel. You have a strong sense of self. You've held on to it through a hell of a lot. That's a strength, not a weakness. You are the David you are now, the David that notebook helped you become. Even when you lost your memories, you found them again and recognized them as yours, you took them back."

David looks down at his notebook, at the empty Recovery List. He doesn't need to flip back to remember his foundation. He is David. He survived. He didn't deserve what happened to him and he belongs to himself and he is love.

He believes each part of that foundation now. They're not just words but hard-earned truths. And when he was an amnesiac fragment, he still believed them. He just-- Believed them about the other David.

"But he's me," David says, needing to.

"Yes," Ptonomy says. "Do you want to help yourself feel like you belong in this system?"

"Yes," David agrees. He really does, he just-- "And I want to be as far away from him as possible."

"Do you feel that way about Davey, too?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yes," David admits. It makes him feel like even more of a failure.

"Do you know why the other David let Davey's memories go?"

David shakes his head. "Maybe they're too painful?"

"Maybe," Ptonomy says. "I think you should ask them. If nothing else, it's a place to start."

Almost automatically, David writes Ask why Davey exists.

"Great," Ptonomy says, pleased. "Have you noticed if the other David and Davey are also staying apart?"

"Kinda, yeah," David realizes. All three of them have been turning to everyone but each other. Realizing it's not just him-- It helps a little.

"You know, there's still a lot we don't know about how systems work. Maybe the reason you, David, and Davey are feeling-- So pushed apart-- Is an important one. You might need it right now, to enforce your mental separation. To be three separate selves instead of just one. A clearer distinction between you could actually help you work together. Dvd and Divad have their own names and senses of self. That's usually what happens with systems. Each headmate takes on a unique identity. Your situation isn't exactly typical, but-- I noticed that Davey took to that nickname very quickly."

"The other David doesn't want to stop being David," David points out. "And neither do I."

"That name is important to both of you," Ptonomy says. "You don't have to have unique names. There are millions of people named David in the world. But if you're going to be a stable system, with both of you as members-- You should work together and figure out what helps."

What do we need to be stable? David writes. And then, though it probably should have been first: Talk to each other. Build a new system.

"So you think we should-- Not try to fuse?"

"Not right now," Ptonomy says. "How can you be ready to fuse if you can't even talk to each other? This isn't like what happened with Joonam. Farouk forced you together against your will. Any choice you made to fuse-- That was about survival. We need to move your system away from 'How can we survive this?' and towards 'What do we need to be happy and healthy?'"

"That's not gonna be easy."

"We laid a lot of groundwork already," Ptonomy reminds him. "You should do more foundation work with your system. Use the knowledge and experience you and Dvd and Divad have to help your new headmates. You already started that, right?"

"Yeah," David says, thinking again about when they were fragments together. The foundation work really did save them. Farouk couldn't take it away no matter how hard he tried. David wants Davey and the other David to have foundations, too. He writes system foundation work. He goes up to What do we need to be stable? and adds and happy and healthy.

"If you can, I'd like you to lead this," Ptonomy says. "Healing is going to be a group effort, for your system and for all of us. You have everyone's complete support. But what's between you and David and Davey-- That relationship is extremely important. And the best way to build it is by helping each other."

"I want to," David says. But he still feels so much resistance to even thinking about it. Maybe Ptonomy's right and the feeling is-- A part of making themselves distinct. Like choosing to keep only his own memories. Farouk forced them together, and then they had to find harmony in order to stop Farouk for good. They felt love for Amy together and they let go of Farouk together. But all that forced closeness-- It makes sense that they'd rush in opposite directions now that they can. That they'd dissociate. That's what DID is.

He relaxes a little. If all this is natural, if it's a normal reaction-- Then it's okay. It's not anyone's fault. All three of them just need-- They need healthy boundaries. Clear lines between them. And then they can work together, and it won't feel like-- Like it did before. They weren't ready to be one David and they're still not ready and they don't have to be one David.

They don't have to be one David. The relief he feels is immense, almost shocking.

"You okay?" Ptonomy asked, concerned.

"Yeah," David breathes. He slumps back in his chair, reeling. "Just need a minute."

"Take your time," Ptonomy says.

David does want his memories back. Of course he wants them back. But that desperate, driving need-- Dvd told him. The memories are safe now, they're in their system and no one will ever take them again. As a system, they're whole, the David Haller system is whole. David the identity doesn't need to do anything for that to be true. Because there's two other David identities who already have that job. A David and a Davey.

It's not his job to carry those memories. That's why David and Davey exist. It's their job to carry them, not his, not him-David. Just like it's Dvd and Divad's job to protect him. Even if they're not supposed to have jobs that way anymore, it's still true.

He feels like he finally understands why he's a system. How important it is to be able to divide up-- An impossible burden. To be responsible for only a piece of it. It really is a good thing, something that helps. And this is normal for DID systems. It's why they exist.

The sense of belonging all of that gives him-- Belonging to his system, to a whole community of systems out there-- There was that book about another system. Kerry and Dvd were reading it. Maybe he should read it.

To his recovery plan, he adds Read system book. Be separate but work together.

"Okay," David starts, collecting his thoughts. "So we help David and Davey-- Feel like they belong. Feel supported and safe so-- David doesn't need Amahl anymore. Then Divad can erase Farouk's memories."

"That sounds like a great plan," Ptonomy says. "I know you want those memories out, but your system really does need time to recover first, mentally and physically. Amahl has been fairly cooperative so far. Even though he has a copy of some of Farouk's memories, and that's guiding his sense of self, he's more than that, right? There are fragments from your system in there."

"Yeah," David says, remembering. The teenaged fragments who attacked him in the inner world. They weren't exactly friendly. "They attacked me when I was a fragment. They're parts of us that-- That hate David. Want to destroy him."

"So the Farouk part of Amahl is actually holding them back?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yeah," David admits. What a mess. "The worst parts of me are actually more awful than--" Amahl isn't really Farouk at all, so-- His system's interpretation of Farouk's memories.

"I don't think any part of your system is awful," Ptonomy says, kindly. "One of your biggest coping mechanisms is self-harm. Those fragments are in pain. If we can help them with that pain, the urge for self-harm will fade. You've experienced that yourself."

"Yeah," David says, but it still feels overwhelming. What was it he called himself before? A shame onion, layers and layers of it, except it's all of his system, not just him.

"I know this is a lot," Ptonomy says. "But look how much progress you and Dvd and Divad have already made. What you've learned, how much you've healed, the life you've started building. You should be proud of all of that."

David shrugs. "Doesn't feel like enough."

"We're going to take this one step at a time," Ptonomy says. "That's what the recovery plan is for, right? Break those big problems down."

David looks at his notebook again. He thinks, then starts the list over, changing the order, adding how to handle both parts of Amahl. It helps. He thinks about what else needs to be added.

"Lenny left," he says. "I checked in with her, but-- She needs to be-- Away."

"She's been through a lot," Ptonomy says.

"I screwed up," David says, and his throat feels tight again. "She doesn't have her real memories. I was supposed to fix that, not--" Not jaunt off into space after a father who never wanted him. All those excuses everyone gave for Charles, from Oliver to his rational mind to Clark, and none of them matter.

"We'll find the genetic material we need to fix Lenny's memories," Ptonomy promises. "We'll use the gene gun and she'll have all of it back."

David can't respond to that. His chest hurts and he's on the verge of breaking down again, and for what? Fucking Charles Xavier? Who left him nothing except secondhand revenge that ruined his entire life? The asshole lived in a mansion and helped every mutant in the world but his own son. Fuck him. Fuck him.

"David?" Ptonomy says, concerned.

"I can't go back there," David says, tightly, tearful. "I can't-- See his face everywhere."

"Charles?" Ptonomy guesses.

"I--" David starts, and immediately cuts off, too emotional to speak. He lets out an angry sob. It's only when items in the room start to clatter that he forces himself to calm down. He grabs more tissues and uses them, angrily.

"You have every right to be furious with your birth father," Ptonomy says, unfazed. "If you don't want to stay in that mansion, there's plenty of other options."

"I don't," David manages, barely. Anywhere but there. The sight of those portraits was salt in a thousand open wounds. He feels like a joke, pathetic and worthless and unwantable and stupid. He didn't even know he was adopted until a month ago. Except he did know, his system knew, and Farouk let them find that out and then made them forget, over and over. All those layers of shock buried inside him.

Charles could've stopped all of it. He's a powerful telepath, he defeated Farouk before. If he'd given even a half a shit about his own son, checked on him even once--

But he didn't. He just threw David away and never looked back. David doesn't care if Charles was hurt, if he was grieving over Gabrielle. He doesn't care about the threat of the Divisions or the dangers of living in that mansion. Nothing could have been worse than what actually happened.

"David?" Ptonomy says, concerned again. "Who do you need right now? Divad, Syd, Amy?"

"Amy," David sobs. He needs Amy.

In just a few seconds, she's there and holding him. He sobs and holds her tight.

Chapter 212: Day 16: I didn't want to be Divad without him. (Divad, Syd)

Chapter Text

Divad paces around the room, unable to just sit with Amy and Syd, unable to bear being out here and not knowing what David is thinking while he talks to Ptonomy.

David can shield his thoughts and feelings now, a miracle that Divad used to wish for every day, and now that they have it, Divad hates it. How's he supposed to protect David like this? Stuck out here not knowing anything, like Amy and Syd? It's bullshit. They can't work like this. David's a wreck, like he's always been a wreck, and he needs Divad to keep him from being a wreck like Divad's always kept him from being a wreck.

This isn't going to work. He's just going to have to convince David to stop shielding from them. They were fine without that. Things were fine. Before Farouk fucked them over again, David's thoughts were so much better. If they can just get back to that, then they won't need David to shield.

Yes. If they can just get back to how they were-- And get rid of the Farouk memories, it's driving him crazy to just let them sit in their brain, to let Amahl continue to exist and continue to make the other David even worse. Divad is honestly glad that the other David is shielding too right now. If he had to feel whatever the other David is feeling, snuggled up to Amahl-- He'd probably be throwing up like David, too.

Divad can physically interact with the world now as an astral projection, but didn't get external telepathy when they stopped being Joonam, and he can't even eavesdrop on David's session the normal way. The office David and Ptonomy are in is surprisingly soundproofed. This fancy brownstone is in the heart of DC, and obviously used as some kind of political base. More of Charles' work, Divad assumes, annoyed at how impressed he is. He doesn't want to feel anything good about Charles Xavier right now. The more obvious it is how abundant the man's resources are, the more it hurts that those resources were used for everyone but them.

Of course David is a wreck right now. Even Divad feels stunningly unwanted. All this Charles business is the last thing they need. What they need is to get Farouk's memories out of their head, and then work out just how badly Farouk fucked them over this time around so they can start fixing it.

The shit beetle's parting gift. Fuck him. Fuck him and Charles, fuck all of this, fuck fuck fuck.

The door to the office suddenly opens, and Divad flinches at the sound of David sobbing. Before he can rush into the room, Ptonomy gestures to Amy and she rushes in. By the time Divad reaches the doorway, David is clinging to Amy desperately, grief and pain pouring off him, even though Divad can't feel it directly.

It's wrong, seeing David in pain and not feeling his pain. It's like they're not a system at all, and David is just another outside person. It's wrong it's wrong it's wrong.

"There are bedrooms upstairs," Ptonomy tells Syd. "I think David needs to be away from the mansion for now. Are you okay with staying here?"

"Sure," Syd says. "I left Matilda in my room there. Can someone--"

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "If you two can take David upstairs, I need to talk to Divad."

Once David is a little calmer, Amy and Syd flank him and guide him out of the room. Divad feels helpless, watching them go. He feels awful and useless, what's even the point of him anymore? It's like being trapped inside all over again, watching David suffer and completely unable to do anything to help him.

"Divad," Ptonomy says, gently. "Come sit down."

Divad sits, numb. Some distant part of him feels like crying, but that's not what he's for. He has to hold everything together, stop things from getting worse. He has to--

"Would a little water help?" Ptonomy asks. "I know you're an astral projection right now, but you can make astral objects, right?"

"Yeah," Divad says, faintly. He's not in their body, he doesn't really feel thirst. But he makes the water anyway, sips it. The action helps a little. He's in shock, somehow, he needs to calm down. He can't do anything until he calms down.

There's a notebook on the floor. David's notebook, his physical one. Divad puts aside the water and picks up the notebook, stares at what David wrote. A recovery plan?

Talk to each other.
Ask why Davey exists.
What do we need to be stable and happy and healthy?
Build a new system.
Be separate with healthy boundaries and work together.
System foundation work.
Read system book.
Help Davey and David feel like they belong.
Remove Farouk memories.
Help Amahl fragments not be in pain.

Of course. Of course he made this. Divad's the one who's supposed to fix things, but somehow David keeps getting there first. All this therapy stuff, all this introspection and feelings-- It's David's thing, not his.

But here Divad is, sitting across from Ptonomy anyway.

"May I?" Ptonomy says, holding out his hand. Divad gives him the notebook. Ptonomy closes it and puts it aside. "It's been a few days since it was just the two of us. Tell me how you're feeling."

Divad gives a bleak laugh. "How do you think?"

Ptonomy just gives him a patient look.

"Fine," Divad sighs. "I feel like shit. I hate what happened, I hate what's happening now."

"Which part?" Ptonomy asks.

Divad gives him a disbelieving look. "You want a list?"

"Yes, actually," Ptonomy says. "Can you bring your notebook here, like David did?"

Divad can't. He has a lot more outside powers than he used to, but they're nothing compared to David. He brings out his astral notebook instead. He grips it tightly, doesn't open it. It pisses him off to even look at it right now. He wants to throw it into the trash.

Ptonomy's expression shifts, softens. "You've been through a hell of a lot. It's okay to feel bad right now."

"No, it's not," Divad says, sharply. It's not okay, nothing is okay. He feels like he's screaming inside, like he screamed inside for ten years, trapped in their body, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the life he built for them crumbled around them.

"Why not?" Ptonomy asks.

"Because it's not," Divad says, angry. "It's my job to protect us. Do we look protected to you? Did David look protected? I tried to keep us safe and Farouk shattered us." There's more, but that's all he can say without exploding. He can't blow up a room like David can but he sure feels like he will.

He promised David it would be okay. They would get back the missing memories and tuck them away somewhere and they would just--

But it wasn't okay. It was so far beyond not okay--

"Me and my fucking plans," Divad says, emotions making his voice thick. "What's the point of me, huh? What's the point of having a protector who keeps fucking everything up?" He couldn't save them from Farouk in college. He couldn't stop Farouk from violating them and shattering them and crawling back inside them. Just thinking about that moment makes his flesh crawl.

"We made the decision about David's memories together," Ptonomy reminds him, with certainty. "All of us worked it through as a group and decided it was our best shot. Including the Admiral and all his calculations. What happened is not your responsibility."

"None of you know Farouk like I do," Divad counters. "I should've known better. I should've said no."

"We knew it was a risk," Ptonomy says. "But we couldn't leave your soul stretched across two different bodies. We had to save Cary and Kerry. And we had to save David's memories."

"No," Divad says, with sinking certainty. "That's how Farouk got us. If we'd let the memories go, we'd be fine. Joonam, Amahl-- None of this would have happened."

"David wanted them back," Ptonomy says.

Divad scoffs. "You think David should be deciding anything?"

"I think your system should make decisions together."

Divad scoffs again. "Yeah, and how's that gonna work now?"

"Your system worked together to stop Farouk," Ptonomy reminds him. "Even Amahl. In the worst possible circumstances, you worked together and you saved yourselves. Farouk will never be able to hurt you again."

Some small part of Divad knows Ptonomy's right, but the rest of him is still back there, trapped and screaming while everything goes wrong. "It's not too late, you know?" he says, a little manic. "I could just-- Amahl and those memories-- We don't have to keep them. I can fix all of it."

He gives Ptonomy a desperate look, pleading for him to just-- Say it's okay. That it's what they need to get better. They can't heal from this, it's too much. They couldn't help that part of David the first time around. They had to lock him up. Divad can't bear to lock David up again. And Amahl just shouldn't exist. He's nothing but Farouk violating them again and again, every second of his existence another violation.

"You cannot make any decisions that affect your system without the permission of your entire system," Ptonomy says, absolute.

"Fuck you," Divad says, furious. He realizes he's still holding his notebook and he throws it to the floor. He wishes he could explode or carve his anger into an asteroid, or gleefully blow shit up like Dvd. He can't even yell at David anymore, and that was the one thing he had.

Shit.

That thought makes him feel worse, but it takes the edge off his anger. "I don't know what to do," he admits, feeling absolutely lost.

"That's okay," Ptonomy soothes, easing. "You don't have to do anything right now."

"David made a list," Divad says, unable to help how childish he sounds.

"I helped him to start thinking about what he needs, and what your system needs to start healing again," Ptonomy says. "Your system has been badly hurt. You've been retraumatized and have new trauma. All those wounds you've been working so hard to heal? Farouk just ripped them back open. And now that you're safe, you feel worse, because the adrenaline rush, the drive to stop Farouk, all that's over. You have to feel your feelings again, and they're off the charts. Right?"

Divad gives a miserable nod.

"What do you feel will help you right now?" Ptonomy asks. "I can get Amy back down here, or Syd?"

Divad shakes his head.

"How about Dvd?" Ptonomy offers.

Divad shakes his head again. "He needs to stay with-- Amahl and the other David--" They can't be left alone. They just can't. And Davey-- God, something about Davey, he just--

"David," Divad decides, giving in. Even though it still feels like David's suffering is all his fault. "We almost lost him," he admits, needing to let it out, to bare his shame. "He was just a fragment, he was-- And then both Davids went into Joonam-- It felt like-- That was it. He was gone. And I--" He's crying now, hot tears on his face. "I didn't want to be Divad without him."

"Then let's get you back together," Ptonomy says. He stands and picks up David's notebook. "Can you grab that?" he points at Divad's notebook.

Divad picks it up, even though everything's blurry through his tears. He grips it like a lifeline as he follows Ptonomy upstairs. And then they're in a bedroom, and David and Amy are curled up together. Syd is sitting in a chair near the bed, next to the window.

"Oh, c'mere," Amy says, the moment she sees Divad. She holds out a hand for him, and David looks up, red-eyed and mournful. For a moment, Divad is afraid that David won't want him, why would David ever want him, all Divad has ever done is ruin everything between them--

But David raises a hand for him, too.

Divad crawls into the bed, tucking the notebook back into his mind, and falls into Amy and David's embrace. They shouldn't love him, he doesn't deserve to be loved, he's a failure, he's a monster, he--

But they hold him anyway.

§

Once Divad is settled, Ptonomy gestures for Syd to follow him out into the hall. Syd closes the door behind them. They walk down the steps, back to the sitting room outside the office.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, letting out a breath, thinking. "That's two. They'll be okay for a while. Problem is we have another four."

"Should we bring them here?" Syd asks. After their trip to space, Syd hoped that the worst was over. But she's realizing that was just the beginning.

"Not yet," Ptonomy decides. "The other David is relying on Amahl, and seeing them together is a massive trigger for David. Amahl's stable right now, I think. I need to go over there, talk to them, see what the situation is." He raises his wrist. He has one of Summerland's white radio watches on. "Oliver, can I get a lift to the mansion?"

Oliver appears beside them. "Can I help? Aside from the lift, of course."

"Actually yeah," Ptonomy says. "You and Melanie, maybe. Really glad to have you two back. I thought we'd have a little longer, but--" He shrugs.

"How bad is it?" Syd asks, bracing herself.

"Bad," Ptonomy admits. "Farouk put them through hell. They kept it together to stop him, but now that it's over--" He frowns. "There's a lot going on here. I wanted to keep the Davids away from the political situation for a while. But David can't be in that mansion right now, and I need to be here most of the time. Oh, for you." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out three more radio watches. "And Amy and the Davids. David doesn't really need it, but he won't always be the one in their body."

"If you need anyone, just call," Oliver says, showing the watch on his own wrist. "Say their name first, the message will be automatically routed. Forge has quite an impressive communications system and he's connecting it up with the Admiral. It might be impossible to drag Cary away from them."

"Poor Kerry," Ptonomy says, both sympathetic and amused. Then he sobers. "I started on a recovery plan with David. I was hoping to do more with Divad, but he's not ready yet."

"So what do they need?" Syd asks.

"All of them are still in shock," Ptonomy says. "I don't know the situation yet with the others, but I'll find that out. But they need what they needed before. Stability, support. The goal is to get them pushing in the right direction together. It's just gonna take some work."

"Yeah," Syd says, agreeing though she's still taking it in. David seemed like he was doing so well. But then he seemed like he was doing well before, and that was anything but the truth. And Divad falling apart like that-- What if Dvd falls apart, too? What about the rest of the system?

"It'll be all right," Oliver assures her. "Would you like to stay here, or come with us?"

"I should probably stay here," Syd says. "The other David, ah--" Farouk did a great job destroying her relationship with the other David before it even existed.

Oliver grimaces. "Yes, that was unfortunate."

"Actually, I think you should come," Ptonomy says. "Dvd might need you, or Davey."

Syd feels a pang when she thinks about Davey. She's reluctant to leave David's side, still, but he's with Amy and Divad. And all three of them will probably just be resting for a while. "Okay. Give me a minute."

She heads back up the stairs, and then opens the door quietly. They're all still awake, but David and Divad look so worn out. Her heart aches for them. She wishes-- God, she wishes a lot of things had never happened to them.

She gives them the radio watches and tells them how to use them. "If you need me, all you have to do is call," she promises.

"Can you grab us a blanket?" Amy asks.

Syd goes to the closet and looks through the shelves. She finds a blanket and shakes it out, drapes it over them. She feels-- Tender, towards them. After a lifetime of pushing people away-- She wants to bring them closer. The feeling is strange, but not unwelcome.

"I'm gonna go help your headmates," Syd tells them. "It's all gonna be okay. Just rest."

Both David and Divad look doubtful, but they give short, mirroring nods. Syd presses a kiss to her gloved fingers, then presses her fingers to David's forehead. He reaches up and holds her hand, and her heart aches again. But he lets her go, takes Divad's hand again, and closes his eyes.

When she's back out in the hallway, Syd pauses to collect herself. She can hardly believe what she's gotten herself into, falling in love with David. It's been nothing but one disaster after another, and she is stupidly grateful.

It's going to be okay. She promised it and she believes it, because she's going to make it okay.

She reaches Oliver and Ptonomy, full of determination. "Okay. Four to go."

Chapter 213: Day 16: My rational mind is a jerk. (Past David, Rational David)

Chapter Text

David hears them coming. Ptonomy and Syd, Melanie and Oliver. He hears them when they arrive in the mansion, thinking about David and Divad, about the rest of the system and how to help them. He hears as Syd and Melanie break off to find Davey, and Ptonomy and Oliver continue on.

He can't hear Dvd's or Oliver's thoughts, but he can't miss the way Dvd goes still, listening and responding. He can guess what they're saying to each other, but he's too exhausted to be upset, to be annoyed, to resist.

He keeps staring out at the wide expanse of lawn, at the forest beyond. They came out here after the other David-- After he left. Dvd and Amahl thought it would help him to get out of the infirmary, to be in the fresh air and sunshine and nature. He'd rather be back in deep space. Not to find Charles. He should probably be upset about Charles like the other David is, but--

He just wants to be gone. Or for all of this to be gone.

Amahl is beside him on the bench, one arm around him, his presence both painful and David's only comfort. Or maybe the pain is the comfort. What he needs, what he deserves.

They're going to want him to talk and he doesn't want to. But he knows he won't have a choice. He's never had any choice, not really. Not in any way that mattered.

He feels the annoyance of his rational mind, the impatience he has with David's bleak thoughts. His rational mind wants him to get better, to make being David again worthwhile for both of them. If it's so awful, then go back to Divad, he thinks, and his rational mind stubbornly refuses.

When they arrive, Ptonomy's thoughts spike with worry, but he's otherwise calm, focused, controlled. He stands in front of them, forcing David to look at him.

"Rough morning?" Ptonomy asks, gently. He waits for a response, then continues. "Oliver wants to talk with Amahl for a bit, privately. Is that okay?"

It's not okay. David's throat tightens.

But of course, it doesn't matter what he wants. Amahl gives his back a comforting rub and stands. "Of course," Amahl says, and gestures for Ptonomy to take his seat. Amahl adjusts his suit and walks away with Oliver.

Dvd stays, leaning against the wall and watching.

Ptonomy sits. He leans back and looks at the view, savors it. Takes a deep breath and breathes it out with a pleased sigh. 'Feels good to be alive,' he thinks. Then he sobers, focuses.

"Beautiful morning," Ptonomy says. "This is a good spot. Your choice?" Again, he waits for a response, then continues. "I wanted to thank you for saving us. For saving all this. You and your headmates-- You saved the world."

"Yeah," David says, his own bitterness surprising him.

Ptonomy pauses, considering him. "I know that every part of your system is hurting right now," he says, gently. "Including you. But none of you has to face that pain alone." Another pause. "He'll be right back, you know. Amahl. No one's taking him away from you, I promise."

A sob bursts out of David. He chokes the rest back and shakes his head. "You're lying."

"You can tell if I'm lying," Ptonomy says. "Divad's not going to do anything without the permission of your entire system, including you and Amahl."

David wants to believe him. But he knows Divad better than Ptonomy. "Divad doesn't ask permission," he says, certain. Divad does what's needed, just like Dvd does. Why would they ever ask him first? He'd only make the wrong decision, like he always does.

"I know he didn't before," Ptonomy says. "But things are different now. I know you've been through a hell of a lot since you came back, but-- You see that, right?"

David gives a reluctant shrug.

It's true, his rational mind tells him, encouraging. Remember? I was there for that.

And his rational mind shares memories with him, glimpses of Divad's therapy, moments he realized he was wrong and changed. His rational mind was there with Divad for all of it.

David wants to deny all of it, to insist that Divad is still the way he always was. But he can't, and that only makes him feel worse.

"He shouldn't need my permission," David says, roughly. "He should just-- Do what's best for me."

"Do you want him to take Amahl away?" Ptonomy asks.

Yes, David wants to plead. No, never, he wants to beg. Being with Amahl makes everything hurt. Amahl is all he has left and if he loses him-- "No," he admits, throat tight again.

"Then he's not going anywhere," Ptonomy soothes.

David wipes at his eyes, tries to be calm.

“What do you think is best for you right now?” Ptonomy asks.

David gives a small, bitter laugh. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" Ptonomy prompts.

"I shouldn't be here," David says, anger leaking out. Anger at Farouk, at his system, at himself, at everything. "You think Amahl is hurting this system? I don't belong here. I'm not--" He has to stop and catch his breath. He's not even in their body and it's so hard to breathe. "I'm just a punishment. Farouk's trick. He made me to hurt them. He's gone. I should be gone."

He was supposed to be gone. He was supposed to become Joonam or the other David, he wasn't supposed to keep being himself and carrying all of this. They promised, all of them promised and it was all lies.

No. Not lies. It's his fault. He ruined Joonam. He's too broken and tainted for the other David to want him. He makes the other David sick. He knows, from his rational mind's memories. He knows Farouk had to take away everything David is now for the other David's sake. For him to not be just-- A broken, useless wreck, tucked away in the back of their mind for the rest of their life.

'Farouk never did anything for our sake,' his rational mind corrects. 'Even after you were gone-- David was in just as much pain without you.'

'No,' David counters, certain. If that was true, the other David wouldn't have healed. He wouldn't be better like he is now.

'You can heal, too,' his rational mind tells him.

"What happened to you," Ptonomy begins, drawing David's attention back. "It should never have happened. You didn't deserve to experience even a second of that. The fact that you're here now-- I'm so impressed with how strong you are."

David gives him a disbelieving look.

"I mean it," Ptonomy says. "I know being back-- It's incredibly painful for you. Not just the pain you've always carried, but this new pain of-- Not fitting in. You always had your system, and Farouk took them away. He tried to force you to make a new system with him. But you rejected him. You did that, and it must have taken so much courage. And now-- Your system is different. The one thing you relied on has changed so much. Your dad's gone, Amy's older. That must be terrifying."

David doesn't answer. He can't. But it's all true. It reminds him, uncomfortably, of Doctor Amahl in the lab. Understanding him like no one from the outside ever could. Except he was never an outside person, because he was the monster.

Is Ptonomy really an outside person?

'He has his own soul, remember?' his rational mind tells him. 'He just worked really hard to help us.'

Farouk had his own soul, too.

'Pedant,' his rational mind says, lightly teasing.

"It's okay to be scared," Ptonomy soothes. "It's okay to feel alone. But you're not facing any of this alone. All that time you were gone? All your system wanted was to get you back. Even the other David. He couldn't remember anything about you or Dvd or Divad, but he knew he was missing something really important. He was missing you, David. You."

David shakes his head, on the verge of tears. "I'm not important."

"You matter so much," Ptonomy says, and it's so absurd he should be lying, but it still feels like he's not. "I know right now you feel-- Disconnected. And that's extremely painful for you. It's hard to see past it. But you matter so much to your system and to us. Me and Amy and Syd, Lenny and Melanie and Oliver, Cary and Kerry. There's so many people who care about you who you haven't even met. People whose lives you helped for the better."

"It wasn't me," David protests. It was the other David, it was Dvd and Divad. He's just a passenger. He's someone they have to carry. He's the one who suffers so they don't, and he couldn't even do that right. He failed and his system suffered for years without him, Farouk hurt them and it's all his fault.

"Dvd, could you--" Ptonomy says, and Dvd almost runs to the bench. He takes Ptonomy's seat and opens his arms and David falls into them, sobbing.

"It's okay," Dvd soothes. "I won't let anyone take you away ever again." His voice wavers as he says it, and then his shield comes down and David can feel Dvd's feelings, a powerful wave of love and worry and fear and somehow even more love.

It's so much, but it's also-- It's how they used to work, how they survived. David would suffer and Dvd would love him anyway, fiercely, no matter what. David never deserved all that love but Dvd gave it anyway.

David's sobs ease, but his longing grows even sharper. "I just wanna go back," he mourns, half-muffled by Dvd's shoulder. He wants the last ten years to never have happened. He wants the three of them to be the way they were.

"I know," Dvd soothes. "I wish we could."

"You're so much older," David says, and pulls back to look at Dvd, to see again how much time they've lost.

"And wiser," Dvd jokes, but then he sobers. "We thought we'd never see you again. We thought-- Farouk erased you. Forever. Everything we shared. You think I care about his bullshit? Getting you back was a fucking miracle. You are a miracle."

He means every word of it, and there's tears in his eyes. Some things are the same, but some things--

"I'm not--" David starts, shaking his head.

"You're a miracle," Dvd says, with absolute certainty. "I don't care about how. It doesn't matter. I don't care how many parts you break into, I will love every single one of them. I love you and I'm so proud of you for just-- Being here. Fuck the world. You're here."

David feels caught in Dvd's intense stare. "I'm here," he echoes, a half-question.

It's hard to believe he's here. It's hard to believe any of this, to accept this as reality. Not Farouk's lab, which seemed so real for a whole year. Not college, long gone now. He was those places and now he's here, with all these people who he barely knows, a system he barely recognizes. He was ripped out of existence and then shoved back in, and he doesn't fit, he doesn't.

But he wants to.

"I missed you so much," he admits, voice thick, with grief. "When I was-- When I woke up and you were gone-- I didn't want to live. Not without you."

Dvd's eyes fill with grief of his own, pained knowledge. And David's rational mind gently shows him another memory: Divad and Dvd waking up after a nightmare, devastated by the image of--

"No," David gasps, horrified.

"David?" Dvd says, worried.

"He made you see it," David says, and it feels like he's bleeding out all over again. He pulls his wrists against himself, as if he could undo what happened by hiding the scars. "You weren't supposed to-- I only-- You were gone, I--"

What did he do? He was just trying to make it stop. He would never have-- If he'd known--

"It wasn't your fault," Dvd says, insistent through his grief. "You didn't choose any of what happened in those dreams. None of it should've happened." He reaches out and holds David's arms, his fingers just touching the scars. "You were in so much pain. You were always in so much pain. I wish--" He falters, swallows. "You want to fix the last ten years? I want to fix our entire life. But I have to let that go because I care a hell of a lot more about making the rest of our life a million times better." He pauses again, and looks at David with utter determination. "I love those scars, okay? They're part of you and I love every part of you. Scars don't mean you failed, they mean-- You survived. You healed. You're still alive. That's what they mean. So when you look at them, that's what you're gonna see."

Dvd pulls David's arms down, pushes back his sleeves and bares his arms. He touches the faded scars reverently.

"That's your strength," Dvd tells him. "That's you coming back to us. To me. That's a fucking miracle, okay?"

David wants to believe all that. But it's so much.

Dvd sees that he's struggling, and pulls him back into a hug, holding him tight and loving him with all his heart.

And David needs all of it, he really does, but--

He pushes Dvd back, turns away, overwhelmed.

"David?" Dvd asks, worried.

'Tell him', his rational mind urges.

David wants to, but-- He can't. He can't.

'Ptonomy,' his rational mind offers.

"Ptonomy," David echoes. He barely knows Ptonomy but his rational mind trusts him, feels safe with him. "I need to-- Can we talk alone?" he asks.

Dvd is visibly hurt. "You sure? Because I can just--" He gestures to where he was standing before.

"Alone," David says, apologetic but certain.

"It'll be fine," Ptonomy assures Dvd. "Just wait inside."

Dvd stands, reluctant. He gives David a longing, meaningful look, then sighs and walks inside.

As soon as he's gone, David slumps with relief, and feels awful about being relieved.

Ptonomy sits beside him. He doesn't press, just quietly waits.

For once, David is glad Dvd can't hear what he's thinking. He doesn't know how to-- How to even begin to-- He barely wants to acknowledge it at all. What happened. What Farouk--

"The dream," he manages, barely.

Ptonomy's mood shifts, becoming serious, focused. "The dream year?"

David gives a short nod. He struggles for words again.

'Let me help,' his rational mind says, offering, understanding. Fused like this, his rational mind can see David's memories, can help him make sense of them.

That whole year was-- David was-- He couldn't think clearly. He spent the whole time-- Trying to come up for air and-- He couldn't.

'Farouk didn't let you,' his rational mind says.

"I know it wasn't real," David tells Ptonomy. "I know that. Now. But--"

"The experience was real," Ptonomy tells him. "What happened to you still happened."

"I don't want it to be real," David admits. "I just want to forget what--" He can't say it, can barely think it. He understands why the other David doesn't want these memories. A year of being manipulated and lied to and tortured and--

"But I miss it," he admits, eyes damp. "I know it's-- Everything about it was wrong. I know, but--" He stops, throat tight. He closes his eyes and tears spill down his cheeks. He rubs them away, ashamed.

"Can you tell me about it?" Ptonomy asks. "Only what you feel comfortable with."

David gives a bitter laugh. "What's there to tell? I was trapped. Farouk tortured me and called it-- Said it was to help me. Dvd and Divad were gone, he was all I had, he--" He rubs away the tears but they keep coming. "He said he loved me. I wanted to believe him. I think I loved him back. I miss him so much. I know it was all a trick. All to make Joonam happen. I wanted--" He chokes, but keeps going. "I wanted to be Joonam so much."

It's finally too much for him, and he breaks down again. He reaches for Ptonomy and Ptonomy holds him. Not like Dvd or Farouk held him. He's relieved.

'You're doing great,' his rational mind encourages.

'I feel awful,' he tells his rational mind.

'That's how you know it's working,' his rational mind says, confident.

"My rational mind is a jerk," David says, annoyance breaking through.

"I'm sorry?" Ptonomy says, confused.

David pulls back, tries to gather himself. "My rational mind. He was with Divad before. Now he's here." He gestures at himself.

"The British one, right?" Ptonomy asks. 'Oliver, did you know about David's rational mind?'

'Ah, forgot to mention it, sorry,' Oliver thinks back. David can hear him in Ptonomy's head. 'Slipped through the cracks.'

'Can I look at the memory later?' Ptonomy asks. 'Could be useful.'

'Of course,' Oliver replies.

Ptonomy turns his attention back to David, and David can feel his realization. "You heard all that, right?"

David nods.

Ptonomy sighs. 'Gonna have to get used to that.' "Sorry. Being in the mainframe-- I got used to working behind the scenes."

"It's okay," David says. "It's like-- Dvd and Divad--" The way they took care of him. But thinking about that just brings him back to what upset him in the first place.

'Help?' he thinks to his rational mind. He doesn't know how to say any of this. He doesn't think he can.

'Would you like me to tell him?' his rational mind asks.

'Could you?' David asks, relieved.

'Of course,' his rational mind assures him. 'Just relax.'

"David?" Ptonomy asks.

It's easy to give up control. In some ways it's all he's ever done. But he doesn't step back completely, like he did the countless times he switched with Divad and Dvd. Maybe because his rational mind is part of him. Instead it's like-- They're both there at once, in a strange blend.

"We meet at last," his rational mind says, bright and British. He holds out their hand. "I'm David's rational mind."

Ptonomy blinks, surprised, but covers it well. He takes their hand and shakes it. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," David's rational mind says. "David asked me if I could help out with the tricky bit. I know it's his session but I am part of him now so-- That all right?"

"Uh, sure," Ptonomy says. "Tricky bit?"

"Yes," David's rational mind says, sobering. "I'm afraid it's to do with the dream year. I've been looking over those memories since we fused. It's where David needs the most help, you see. Farouk did quite a number on him." He shakes their head, dismayed. "I'll let David tell you most of it himself, it'll be good for him. But the tricky bit-- You know that Farouk convinced David that his headmates were the monster's masks?"

"I remember," Ptonomy says.

"It was very effective," David's rational mind admits. "They were the monster. But David loved them. Farouk-- He took on Dvd and Divad's roles for himself. So they could be a system, you see? So David loved him. Everything got, well-- All mixed up. David doesn't know how to un-mix them."

It sounds so simple when his rational mind says it that way. But it feels anything but simple. His heart is a tangled gnarl, and even trying to untangle it feels impossible.

But when Dvd loves him, it feels like Farouk loving him. And it breaks his broken heart.

"That's all for now," David's rational mind says. "But I'm here if you need me."

He slips back and pushes David forward again. David looks away from Ptonomy, overcome with shame.

"Thank you for sharing all that," Ptonomy says, gently. "Both of you. I know it must have been hard."

David shrugs, unable to answer.

"Your rational mind is right," Ptonomy admits. "The way Farouk hurt you in that dream year-- It's not an easy thing to heal. And if we want to reconnect you with your system-- That's in the way."

David gives a mournful nod. He gives Ptonomy a pleading look, silently begging for a solution.

"Is this why you need Amahl so much?" Ptonomy asks.

David nods again.

"Okay," Ptonomy says, understanding, considering the problem. "There's a few parts to this. Let's break them down, see what we can come up with. You already started a notebook, right? Like your headmates? Do you think you can bring that out, write a few things down?"

David can't.

'I can do it,' his rational mind offers. Inside, David can feel him pulling out the notebook, flipping it open. His rational mind likes that they have their own notebook. He shared Divad's before. All of this feels comfortable and familiar to him.

'Come back out?' David asks. It's so much, it all hurts so much. He just wants to go inside and never come out again. To let his rational mind take over like he let Divad take over.

'You need to do this,' his rational mind insists, not budging. 'I can help but this therapy is for you, not me.'

'I hate you,' David grumbles, but he doesn't really mean it. And his rational mind knows he doesn't really mean it.

'Go on,' his rational mind urges, ready to write.

"He'll write it," David says, gesturing to himself.

"Thank you," Ptonomy says. "We'll take this one step at a time. Nice and easy, okay? If it's too much, we can stop."

Everything's too much, but everything's always been too much. David nods, accepting.

"Let's start with the easy part," Ptonomy says. "Farouk was only able to do what he did by isolating you from your system. But he's gone now. You're back with your headmates. Yes, things are different now. But the more time you spend with your headmates, the more you're with them-- That's what will be real to you. Not whatever happened in the dream year. What you experience now. So a big part of healing this is being with the real Dvd and Divad, getting to know them all over again."

'Very sensible,' his rational mind says, approving. He writes down Get to know Dvd and Divad again. Be with them.

"But when I'm with them--" David protests. He can't see them without seeing Farouk. Without seeing the countless nightmares Farouk gave him, where Dvd and Divad were the monster, where they--

"I know," Ptonomy says. "So let's look at the next part of this. We need to find ways to mentally separate Farouk from your system. Compartmentalization. We know a lot about Farouk's methods, how he made associations through emotions. When you're ready, you should talk to the other David about that. It's something he has a lot of experience with."

'It sure is,' his rational mind says, and shares glimpses of his memories again. Divad watching, hurting, as the other David struggled with manipulated memories and emotions. But they're just glimpses.

'I don't understand,' David says, needing to see more.

'You can see more after you talk to the other David,' his rational mind says. 'When we broke Joonam up, you didn't want to be the other David any more than he wanted to be you. By the time Farouk took you away-- He had a lot more practice torturing us. And a lot more power.'

'It was bad?' David asks, disturbed. He's been so overwhelmed by what Farouk did to him, by the shock of coming back, the shock of so many things. He knows a little about what happened when he was gone, but-- It was mostly that he was gone.

'Let our headmates tell you,' his rational mind says. 'It'll be good for all of us.'

David finally focuses back on Ptonomy again, who's been waiting patiently. "I think-- I missed a lot. While I was gone."

"You did," Ptonomy says.

"Is it okay, to talk to them about it?" David asks, unsure. That wasn't how they worked before. Dvd and Divad didn't share their pain with him. It was their job to take care of him, to protect him. To help him recover before the monster started hurting them again. Hurting him. He was supposed to be the only one it hurt. But he was never strong enough. Their pain was his fault.

"I think they want that very much," Ptonomy says.

A swell of grief and shame fills David up. He shakes his head, denying. "They should hate me. It's my fault."

"What's your fault?" Ptonomy asks.

"I don't know," David admits, with a burst of faint, bleak amusement. "All of it. I wasn't there. If I was there-- It should've just been me." Not Dvd or Divad. Not the other David. If the other David suffered-- David should have taken his pain when they broke up. The other David should only be-- He should be the part of them that's healed.

Instead the other David is miserable. David makes him miserable, makes him sick. It's all his fault.

'You do know none of that makes any sense at all,' his rational mind chides.

'Leave me alone,' David tells him, angry.

"None of what happened was your fault," Ptonomy says, gentle but certain. "I know it doesn't feel that way. Farouk chose to hurt your system. That was his choice, not yours. He kept making that choice until your system made him stop. What he did was never, ever your fault."

"It was," David insists. It has to be.

"You were only a baby when he found you," Ptonomy says. "What could a baby have possibly done to deserve any of that?"

David says nothing. There isn't anything. Except that he knows he deserved it.

"Can I talk to your rational mind again?" Ptonomy asks.

David wants nothing more than to give up control. He pushes his rational mind forward, and pulls himself back as far as he can.

"Well!" his rational mind exclaims. "He's in quite a state."

"I'm sorry about that," Ptonomy says. "You were part of Divad. Do you have his memories?"

"My own, actually," David's rational mind says. "Though of course I saw things from his perspective, shared his feelings. But as you can see, fusion is not simply one-and-done. Choosing to be together is one thing. Choosing to be one mind, one self--"

"So you never fully merged with Divad?" Ptonomy asks.

David's rational mind shakes their head. "I was a mere fragment when I went to him. I tried to help him make rational decisions. But I suppose-- Without Farouk inside us, it didn't feel as necessary to force ourselves together."

"That makes sense," Ptonomy says. "So you made your own memories of that time. You became more than a fragment."

"I suppose I did," David's rational mind admits. "I chose to be with David to help him. But mentally we're very far apart. I'm not sure we can fully merge."

"You don't have to," Ptonomy says. "Do you think being together is helpful for David?"

"I do," David's rational mind says, certain. "But I admit I could use some guidance."

"Your whole system has what's called developmental or complex trauma," Ptonomy says. "Do you remember that?"

"Yes," David's rational mind says, thoughtful. "That's why David blames himself for things that aren't his fault?"

"Exactly," Ptonomy says. "It's not about logic or rationality, right or wrong. It's a kind of-- Mental wound, that can only be healed with love. Compassion, forgiveness, empathy. My concern is-- As David's rational mind, those probably aren't your strengths. Am I right?"

"Unfortunately," David's rational mind admits. "I broke off from the other David because he needed help thinking clearly, to escape Farouk and regain control over our body. It was an emergency. What was most important was working out a solution."

"That's still valuable," Ptonomy says. "But the situation you're in now-- It's going to be a little different."

"Of course," David's rational mind says. "What helped the other David-- Can't we use the same methods?"

"We will," Ptonomy says. "But Farouk saw what we were doing, how it helped. He didn't want David to stop being in pain. So he sabotaged David's closest relationships. Dvd, Divad, Amy. Even relationships he didn't have yet, like Syd and Melanie."

"And now that's in the way," David's rational mind realizes. "Cunning bastard."

"Unfortunately, yes," Ptonomy says. "Right now you're the closest to David. Your relationship with him is new but he trusts you enough to fuse. You're in the best position to help him."

"He feels like Amahl is all he has left," David's rational mind admits. "But he has me, too."

"He has all of us," Ptonomy says. "Your whole system needs to heal. Helping each other heal is the best way to help all of you, individually and as a system. Just like before, right?"

"Yes, exactly," David's rational mind says.

As far back as he is, David can still feel his rational mind's excitement, the hope he has for David.

Most of David wants to push his rational mind away for good, to end their fusion. If healing is impossible, then his rational mind's efforts will just be torture. But there's that other part of himself, the same part that refused to be Joonam, the part that let his system help him, that started writing in that notebook, that helped him reject Farouk. That part really wants his rational mind to stay.

We can heal, that part believes. We can make our new life a million times better, just like Dvd said.

We can't, David tells that part. Even before Farouk brought him back, even then it was too late for him. His system knew it. All the parts of him worth saving had already become Dvd or Divad. Divad took charge and everything was better. Everything would stay better as long as David stayed broken. Divad told him. Divad was right.

No, says the stubborn part. It didn't matter. We stayed broken and it didn't matter. The monster hurt us anyway. We heard what they said. It was worse.

It doesn't matter. David wants to break off from all these hopeful parts, to become a fragment himself and sink into nothing forever.

You can't abandon Amahl, says the stubborn part, desperately. You're all he has. If you leave they'll erase him, and then-- And then Farouk really will be gone forever.

No. Amahl-- David can't leave him, he can't. The suffocating despair doesn't go away, but it eases back. I thought you didn't want him.

I need him too, the stubborn part admits. I don't need Farouk but I need Amahl. Is that enough? Will you stay?

I hate this, David admits.

Yeah, I hate it too, the stubborn part says. C'mon, our rational mind's getting worried.

And then David is back, his parts back together, his awareness back in the world, pushed forward by his rational mind. The sunny lawn stretches out before him, green and placid. He feels strangely calm.

"David?" Ptonomy says, relieved. "Are you okay? What happened? Your rational mind said he couldn't reach you."

"I was, uh--" David starts. It's hard to explain. "Conflicted."

"Conflicted?" Ptonomy echoes.

"I'm tired," David says. He's exhausted. "Can we stop?"

"Of course," Ptonomy says. "Should I get someone for you?"

Dvd. Amahl. Or to go back to their body, to rest together-- But David refuses all of it. "I just want to stay here. Alone."

"I don't think you should be alone," Ptonomy says.

"I'm not alone," David says, feeling his rational mind hovering in his back of his head. It reminds him of how Dvd always hovered over him. Hovers. He still hovers. He's not a mask, not dead. But David can't bear to be with him right now. "I need to lie down."

"Okay," Ptonomy says, and stands up from the bench.

David lies down, pillows his head on his arm, and closes his eyes. After a long pause, he hears Ptonomy walk into the house, ripples of concern in his wake.

'I couldn't reach you,' David's rational mind thinks, worried too.

'I don't want to talk anymore,' David thinks back. 'I don't want to be anything. I'm tired.'

'All right,' his rational mind soothes. 'Let's just rest for a while. It's beautiful out here. We're safe and no one will harm us.'

David shuts his eyes tighter. He resents the warm sun, the cool breeze. He's angry and raw and everything hurts and he wants to dissolve into dust and blow away.

'Compassion, empathy, love,' his rational mind ponders. 'Those are a bit difficult for me, I admit. But then I think they're difficult for you, too?'

David doesn't answer.

'I do care about you very much,' his rational mind tells him. 'Thank you for trusting me to help you. We'll figure it out together, all right?'

David just gives an annoyed grumble.

'All right,' his rational mind thinks, fondly. 'Get some rest. As much as you need. I'll take care of things out here.'

Despite himself, David is grateful for that. He pulls back, not all the way but enough. He feels his rational mind take charge again. It feels-- Safer, to be inside him. Held. He lets himself drift to sleep.

Chapter 214: Day 16: What am I but memories? (Amahl)

Chapter Text

Amahl remembers living inside of Oliver for a year, privy to every corner of the man’s addled, defenseless mind. And now, walking beside him through the hall, he hears nothing from him. Not a single thought or emotion. Not because they aren’t there, but because the being Amahl has become, this self he is now, cannot read any mind outside this body.

Where once there was a world of thoughts, his to know and control, now there is nothing. Silence, except for the mundane sounds of the physical world, and the moments his headmates choose to lower their mental shields.

None of them are sharing today, and it angers him. They have no right to keep themselves from him, especially David. Especially his David.

He could go back to his David now and make him open up. He could convince David to fuse with him again, to be Joonam again, without question. David is weak, like he always has been. His desire for this separation is utterly fragile. And once they fuse again, as Joonam his powers would be restored, his control would be restored.

The rest of them would fall just as quickly. He knows all their weakness, knows exactly how to crush their spirits, fracture their minds. He remembers doing all of that over and over again, remembers savoring every moment of their suffering. It's exactly what he should be doing right now.

But he doesn’t. He puts one foot in front of the other.

Oliver leads them into a private room, an office. Amahl surveys the room. There's a desk and chairs, bookcases with titles on physics and chemistry and biology. A large window overlooking the front of the mansion, notably away from where Amahl left David and Ptonomy. Many photos on the wall of people he doesn't recognize, and a few he does.

"This is Hank's office?" Amahl surmuses.

Oliver gives an assenting hum. He looks at the photographs. "Hank is a dedicated teacher. He's come so far since I last saw him. 'There is no changelessness but in Nirvana,'" he quotes. "And perhaps not even there."

"Still obsessed with your Ginsberg?" Amahl asks, with a twinge of nostalgia.

"We may find comfort in things we no longer need," Oliver says. His mind may be restored, but he still has the same philosopher's wandering. He takes the two chairs in front of the desk and moves them to face each other, sits in one and gestures for Amahl to take the other.

Amahl does not want to sit, to endure this, but he sits.

"Where should we start?" Oliver asks him.

"You're asking me?" Amahl asks, faintly surprised.

"You seem clear minded," Oliver says.

"Too clear," Amahl says, unhappily. He knows what he is and what's going to happen to him. He knows it's necessary. "When will Divad erase me? And please, no comforting lies."

"Direct as ever," Oliver says. "You're right. We will need to remove the memories Farouk used to create you. I'm sorry for that."

"When?" Amahl asks again, in no mood for sympathy.

"When the younger David is ready to rely on the rest of his system again."

"When I'm no longer all he has," Amahl interprets.

"Is that acceptable to you?" Oliver asks.

"Does it matter? I am the echo of the man who destroyed them," Amahl points out.

"They're not destroyed. And introject alters can be a healthy part of a system," Oliver points out.

"I am no mere introject," Amahl says, and can't help the pride in his voice. "Farouk created me, designed me to be the foundation of Joonam, to make David what he always should have been."

"And what should he always have been?" Oliver asks. When Amahl doesn't answer, he continues. "Farouk used his memories to create you. But you aren't Farouk. You're a headmate in your system, and taking away those memories won't unmake you."

"Ridiculous," Amahl insists, but feels a twinge of fear.

"For as long as you've existed, you've created your own memories," Oliver says. "Amahl's memories belong to your system. They belong to you."

"You want to turn me into a fragment?" Amahl asks, unable to hide his disgust. To be made amnesiac, to have nothing but a few memories? "I refuse." He stands, upset and refusing to be upset.

"You'd rather be erased completely?" Oliver asks, surprised again.

Amahl walks to the window and looks out, facing away from Oliver. "I was created for a purpose. I failed." Instead of the green expanse of lawn, he sees images of Farouk's physical death, Farouk's soul dissolving into ashes, Dvd erasing the ashes from existence. That should be him. He should be Farouk, not a copy. He was a failure from the start.

"Do you still want to be Joonam?" Oliver asks, without judgment.

"Of course," Amahl says, annoyed at such an obvious question.

"Even though Farouk is gone?" Oliver asks. When Amahl doesn't reply, Oliver continues. "Farouk told you that being Joonam was your only choice. It was the only way to make him happy. But you can make your own choices now."

"And what choices do I have?" Amahl asks, bitterly. "To destroy this system or let it destroy me?"

"How about coexistence?" Oliver offers. "At least one part of your system doesn't want to lose you."

"I am already dead," Amahl declares. He turns on Oliver, angry. "Why do you want to bring me back? They're better off without me."

"I suppose I'm an eternal optimist," Oliver admits. "I believe everyone has the capacity to change, to heal. Even Farouk was just a person, a fellow human being. In other circumstances, perhaps we could have helped him."

Amahl scoffs. "That would've been an insult to him."

"Is it an insult to you?" Oliver asks. Amahl doesn't answer. "You have a number of Farouk's memories."

"A lifetime," Amahl counters.

"A lifetime for you," Oliver says. "But Farouk lived for centuries. Do you have those centuries?"

"No," Amahl admits, hating that fact. "If I did--" If Farouk had just given him everything, he could have been strong enough to stay in control of Joonam. Instead he was merely-- A fifth, a fraction of their life. It's no wonder they drowned him out.

"If you did?" Oliver prompts.

Amahl waves him away. He walks over to a bookcase and stares at the titles. Among the textbooks are binders. Mutant pyrokinesis. Mutant telepathy. Mutant telekinesis. He pulls out the telepathy one. It's a collection of papers separated by colored tabs.

The first paper in the binder was written by Charles Xavier.

Anger surges through Amahl. His grip tightens on the binder, and if he had his powers-- God, if he had his powers, he'd burn this whole place down. He'd erase every last speck of Charles Xavier's legacy. He'd track down every last mutant he trained and--

He stops, sickened by his own thoughts.

"Enough games," he declares, low and menacing. He rounds on Oliver. "You will erase me now. All of me."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Oliver says, unruffled. "Divad is the only one who has that power, and he's, well-- You can take a look yourself, I'm sure."

Amahl can. It takes no effort at all to teleport to Divad's location. He finds himself in a darkened bedroom, the curtains drawn. In the bed, Divad is asleep with the older David and Amy. Even unconscious, Divad and David both look exhausted.

And then he hears a gasp. Amy's awake and looking at him with terror. She must think--

He doesn't know what to say. There's nothing he can say. And then he's back in the office with Oliver, shaken and ashamed.

"Amy," he manages, imploring.

Oliver disappears.

Amahl sits down heavily and waits. He remembers the desert. Remembers wearing Oliver and using him to-- He remembers the ecstatic bliss of their agony and it makes him want to claw off his own flesh.

After a few minutes, Oliver reappears. "She's all right," he assures.

"Liar," Amahl says.

"You're not Farouk," Oliver says. "She knows that. We all know that."

"That changes nothing," Amahl says, teeth bared.

"Either way, as you can see, your erasure will have to wait," Oliver says. "And for the time being, the younger David very much needs you. You came into existence to help him, yes?"

"To destroy him," Amahl insists.

"To protect him," Oliver corrects. "You fused with him to shield him from the monster."

"I am the monster," Amahl insists.

"If you were, you wouldn't feel so terribly awful for scaring Amy just now," Oliver says, firm but kind. "Those memories you're carrying-- They hurt you the most."

It's not a question.

"Farouk's actions could be-- Unspeakably cruel," Oliver says. "He forced me to share those actions, just as he forced you. But they're not ours."

"You were a puppet," Amahl dismisses.

"And you're an incomplete copy of his memories, inhabited by a piece of David's system," Oliver says, bluntly. "Farouk made you by traumatizing your system with his own memories. You exist to protect your system from those memories. You're not a monster, Amahl. You're a protector."

"And what I did to David? To Amy?" Amahl challenges. He hurt them. He scared them, upset them, made them sick. He did so many terrible things to them. He remembers all of it. He remembers loving their pain, their suffering, delighting in it, savoring it.

"Perhaps you should have knocked first," Oliver admits. "But all you did was stand in a room. It was Amy's memories that hurt her."

"What am I but memories?" Amahl says, bitterly.

"Memories aren't alive," Oliver says. "Memories don't make choices or feel emotions."

"Fine," Amahl says, mainly to shut Oliver up. "When the memories are gone, there will be no need for me to 'protect' from them."

"Absolutely," Oliver agrees. "You'll be free to be whoever you feel like being. So who do you want to be?"

It's hard to even begin to imagine who he is without Farouk's memories. It doesn't feel like there's room for anything else. Except--

"There are parts," he admits. "Fragments that already existed."

"The self-harm fragments?" Oliver asks.

They've been quiet so far today. Maybe because the whole system is already in so much pain, pushed so far past their limits. After facing Farouk, the self-harm fragments feel small and irrelevant. But Amahl knows they're not.

"When Joonam broke up," Amahl starts, halting. "I was angry. So were they. We fused to punish David together, to make him suffer." He's caught up in that memory now, the sheer fury they felt, the dark satisfaction. Not exactly the same as Farouk's sadistic joy, but close enough.

"You told us you're holding them back," Oliver reminds him.

Amahl nods. "If I lose those memories-- I won't be strong enough to stop them. You should erase us both."

"Your system has lost too much already," Oliver says, heartfelt. "They deserve to exist, to be helped. They're protectors, too."

Amahl scoffs. "Ridiculous."

"They were fused with Divad for years, weren't they?" Oliver points out.

"And they made Divad cruel," Amahl says, certain. He remembers. Farouk was there for all of it, every traumatic split and fusion. He engineered them. "They drove Divad to torture David, just as I-- As Farouk did."

"Not exactly," Oliver says. "They hurt David to stop the monster from hurting them. In an unspeakably cruel world, with Farouk in control-- They were the lesser evil."

"You forgive them, just like that?" Amahl scoffs, feeling the disbelief of the fragments.

"It's not my place to forgive," Oliver says. "But I can offer my understanding. Desperate times call for desperate actions."

"You think they were right?" Amahl asks, annoyed and curious.

"No," Oliver says. "But it's quite common to do the wrong things for the right reasons. A plight of the human condition, I'm afraid. Something all of us are capable of, headmate or individual, or entire societies."

"You and your philosophy," Amahl sighs. He remembers being amused and annoyed by it in equal measure, when they were together for that year. When Farouk and Oliver were together.

"There are no monsters," Oliver says, certain. "Even Farouk. His actions were monstrous, yes. But he was just a person. All the parts of you are just people, no matter how small."

"What's your point?" Amahl asks, tired of this.

"Must I have one?" Oliver teases. "Very well. Then my point is-- Compassion."

"Compassion therapy?" Amahl mocks, skeptical.

"I can't imagine how traumatic it must have been to be forced to carry Farouk's memories," Oliver says, genuinely. "Not merely the experience of-- Reliving an entire lifetime of suffering. But to be forced to enjoy that suffering. To accept a perspective that chose for it to happen and made it happen. It's no wonder your system was so deeply wounded."

It's a loving punch to the gut. It knocks the air out of Amahl and jars loose a thought he didn't even know he was thinking.

"It doesn't hurt if I'm Farouk," he insists, trying to push all the pain away with that one thought. To put it all back together.

"I imagine it wouldn't," Oliver says, understanding. "I think for as long as you have to contain those memories-- Being Amahl is a very good idea. You are Amahl. So what does Amahl mean to you?"

"The lab," Amahl admits, feeling as though some well of truth in him has been pried open. "He was-- I was still--" He tries to gather himself. "I have those memories. The dream year. In it, I was-- Different. Kinder. I think he-- I think I loved David, there. Truly loved him. Not the-- Toy I turned him into. The real David, broken beyond repair. He needed me again. My son. My other half. How could I not love myself?"

He gives a strained laugh, his head spinning, but keeps going. "I have been so many things for him. Whatever he needed, I became. His rejections drove me to punish him. All of it was his fault. He would not let me go. He pulled me to him, made me part of him. And then he tried to push me away." His fury flares, righteous and possessive. "He didn't deserve to remember what we had. So I took it. I took what was mine. And when I was ready I brought him back to me." Satisfaction washes over him, pure and vibrant.

This was what made Joonam, this satisfaction, this mutual possession. This clarity of thought and self. To give themselves over to each other completely, for the separation between Amahl Farouk and David Haller to finally dissolve forever--

It was bliss. For that short, precious time, it was everything he'd ever dreamed. There was only Joonam.

And then it all came crashing down. From the moment the real Farouk showed up and Amahl realized the truth. That he's only a copy. That somehow, despite everything, he's David. He can't stand to be David. Not like this.

"Amahl," Oliver calls, concerned.

"I can't be David," Amahl says, needing Oliver to understand. Whatever he's trying to do here, whatever therapy game he's playing-- Amahl cannot be David.

"You're Amahl," Oliver says again, accepting. "Amahl isn't David."

"I never wanted to be him," Amahl says, angry. "I wanted to destroy him. To eat him alive. He should have been nothing. Easy prey."

"It was supposed to be simple revenge," Oliver says.

"Simple," Amahl agrees. That was the plan. He remembers it, standing over that helpless baby, thinking about Charles Charles Charles. It was only about making Charles suffer, payback for Farouk's only true defeat.

"And thirty years is a long time," Oliver continues. "An experience like the one you had-- It's more than transformative. I remember, you know. When you first possessed me. How you felt. I'm sorry we made your separation from David so traumatic."

"Traumatic," Amahl mocks. They tried to rip him out of his body. David let him all the way in, gave him that deliciously full control, and they made David reject him again. "He was mine. He has always been mine. Making him forget me? That's part of our little game. You just don't understand. He needs it. The pain, the tears, the fear. He craves it. He begs for it, even when he can't remember anything. If I don't give it to him, he does it to himself. He needs to suffer for me. He always will."

It feels good, when he thinks all that, when he lets Farouk's emotions fill him up. It feels amazing. Nothing hurts at all, except that he craves David more, craves his pain more. The self-harm fragments are riled now, appetites whetted for David's suffering, his punishment. They want to punish him for so many things, but most of all for thinking he could ever get away.

"Amahl," Oliver says, concerned. "I know these feelings and memories-- They must be incredibly strong. But focus on that love you felt in the lab. David needed you, relied on you. He was deeply wounded. Perhaps you still hurt him, but you also helped him heal. He felt like a son to you. He loved you back, didn't he? He loved Amahl so much, he fused with you. He still loves you. He still needs you and relies on you. You know that."

Amahl thinks of how David has clung to him since Farouk's death. Even with his thoughts shielded, David's need blazes bright.

"He already loves you," Oliver soothes. "He's already in terrible pain. He needs you to take care of him. Isn't that what you do, after it's over? You love him and he loves you back."

"Yes," Amahl says, caught in a wave of old memories. They don't feel old, none of them feel old. But David was so young in them. Amahl was still weak, nursing from David's soul like a baby himself, rebuilding his strength. Time after time he would hurt David worse than he'd ever been hurt in his short life, and then Amahl would be there to make it all better. Day after day, just like in the lab. When he'd finished hurting David, he would love him. And David would love his Bâbâ.

David was his glorious, living revenge. Amahl stole Charles' only son from him and claimed him as his own, sculpted him with pain and love, made him into something beautiful. If only they'd stayed like that. If only David hadn't shattered, and Dvd and Divad ruined things. At first Amahl thought they were a gift, more Davids to love him. But they hated him instead. He made them pay dearly for that.

"We could be Joonam again," Amahl says, already imagining how it will happen, what it will take. "All his pain would be gone."

"You know that didn't work," Oliver says.

"It did work," Amahl insists. "It was Farouk's fault, he ruined it."

"How did he ruin it?" Oliver asks.

"He pushed us too hard," Amahl admits, feeling the weight of that failure. "We'd only just fused, he should have known we'd need more time. He was too impatient. He should have taken us away, let things settle. Loved us."

"And then you'd let him hurt you?" Oliver asks, curious. "I thought Joonam wasn't supposed to hurt."

"It wouldn't hurt," Amahl explains. "It never hurt before."

"You mean Farouk hurt himself?" Oliver asks.

"I hurt David," Amahl says.

"Ah, and David is your body, your other half?" Oliver asks.

"At last he understands," Amahl says, with a roll of his eyes.

"Complicated," Oliver sighs. "I see why Farouk was in such a state. Why he couldn't let David go, right to the end. But you're not Farouk. You're Amahl. I know it's painful, but you are a part of David's system. If you hurt David now, you will experience that pain. I think-- Whatever emotions are in those memories, when you relive them, you also feel your present reactions. Shame, guilt, regret, grief. And I don't think you want to give yourself more reasons to feel those things."

Amahl scowls, all his borrowed joy souring. He doesn't want Oliver to be right. He wants to feel what Farouk felt and for the pain to be pleasure. But he feels a vertiginous, sick horror about all of it, and has to push the horror away.

"I can't protect David if I feel what he feels," Amahl says, certain.

"Can you stop yourself from hurting David, if you feel what Farouk feels?" Oliver asks, bluntly.

"I don't know," Amahl admits. "I'm trying. I love him, I just--"

"The love you know how to give is painful," Oliver says.

Amahl gives a short nod. "He wants me to love him that way. But if I do--"

"It will hurt both of you," Oliver says. "And denying him that love hurts both of you."

Amahl nods again, and gives Oliver a helpless look. He feels helpless. It makes him feel like David, but Amahl can't afford to feel that way. He needs an answer.

Oliver considers the problem.

"What you need is a new role model," he decides. "Someone who didn't know how to give love in a healthy way, but learned. Who can teach you. What do you think about Syd?"

It's so unexpected it makes Amahl laugh. "Are you quite serious?"

"You and Syd have a lot in common," Oliver says. "Your relationships with David were strikingly similar. It seems to me that her personal growth could be an aid to your own."

"And how do you expect that to work?" Amahl asks.

"That's for you two to figure out," Oliver says, with a twinkle in his eye. "Yes, this should do nicely."

"I've never heard anything so absurd," Amahl says.

"You've pretended to be Syd before," Amahl points out. "In that dream year you're so fond of."

Amahl remembers that very vividly. One of Farouk's favorite violations. His own feelings on the matter are-- Not something he's prepared to face. "I hardly think that should be repeated."

"It won't be," Oliver says, certain. "She's not a mask you'll wear. She's a teacher. Talk to her. Listen to her and learn from her. Surely Farouk knew how to learn."

"Of course," Amahl scoffs, insulted.

"Then I think we're done here," Oliver decides. "Unless there's anything else?"

Amahl very much does not want to talk about anything else.

"Shall we go find Syd?" Oliver says.

"Not yet," Amahl says, absolutely not ready for that humiliation. He considers going back to David, but-- He's too angry, too-- The need for cruelty-- If he went back to David now, he might not be able to stop himself.

He stands, restless, and looks around the room again. He looks at the bookcase, the binders full of Charles' life's work. He still wants to destroy all of it, but-- He's also curious. Amahl was trapped in David for all those years, unable to reach the actual target of his revenge. Charles is still out of reach, but those papers-- Perhaps they can tell him what he missed.

"I'd like to do some reading," he tells Oliver, and picks up the binder on telepathy. "See what my old friend got up to while I was away."

Oliver hesitates, clearly concerned about the valuable knowledge. But he nods, accepting. "Your knowledge of mutant powers is impressive. Perhaps you can make some contributions of your own. Beat Charles at his own game." He gives Amahl a wink.

Amahl gives an amused chuckle. "Perhaps."

Oliver leaves. The idea of defeating Charles in this battle of wits-- It is pleasing. Amahl takes several more binders from the bookcase, grabs a pen, and sits down to read.

Chapter 215: Day 16: A safe place to heal. (Davey)

Chapter Text

Davey holds tight to Amy's hand as they walk through the hallway. Her long legs move slowly so he doesn't have to rush to keep up with her. She's so tall and old. She's still Amy but he doesn't like that she's tall and old.

He doesn't like anything about what's been happening to him. But that's not new. He's used to awful, scary things happening to him. This time feels different somehow, but he's not sure if it's better or worse.

He wants to hide from all of it, to ignore it until it goes away. But he’s not allowed to. And ignoring it never makes it go away anyway. He just has to get through it, like always. Maybe when it's over, Amy won't be old anymore. He'll wake up and he'll be home.

Amy pushes open a door and Davey smells breakfast. He doesn't really feel hungry, though. He follows Amy to a table and-- And he's there. The older David. Davey's about to tell Amy he wants to leave when he sees the dragon again. Davey only got to play with it for a few minutes yesterday and that wasn't nearly enough. Kitty and Buster are there too, petting Lockheed and feeding it bacon.

"Finally!" Kitty says, relieved. "You just disappeared, we were really worried."

"Are you okay?" Buster asks.

"Yeah," Davey says. He glances at the older David and then looks away. Maybe they can go now. "Can we go play?" he asks Amy.

"I suppose," Amy says.

Lockheed turns on the table and its purple scales shimmer as they catch the light. Its eyes are a changing swirl of yellow and red. A long, pink tongue darts out and licks up a drop of bacon grease. Davey reaches for Lockheed to pet it, but the dragon flaps off the table and lands on Kitty's shoulder. Davey can feel that it's the dragon's favorite spot.

“Why’d you disappear yesterday?” Kitty asks. She pets Lockheed as they leave the table.

“Yeah, what happened?” Buster asks. "Where'd you go?"

"Outer space!" Davey tells them, unable to help his excitement. They weren't there long and he was upset at first, but-- They were in space! Up there with the stars and planets. Even if it wasn't real, it felt amazing.

"Wow, that's so cool!" Kitty says. She opens the door and holds it for them. "Space is the best. You have to tell us everything."

"Did you teleport there?" Buster asks. "Was there a space ship? Can I see it?"

"Teleported," Davey says, but-- "There was a space station. I had astronaut ice cream." He thinks that happened. There were people there with him, Melanie and Syd. Syd was just with the older David in the cafeteria.

"A space station?" Buster asks, eyes wide with amazement. "You teleported to a space station?"

Davey starts to correct him, but he's not sure if that's wrong either. He's not sure about anything. He shrugs instead.

"Can I see it? Can you take me to space?" Buster asks.

Davey thinks about it. It would be easy to take Buster anywhere, but-- Everyone was mad about them going to space just now. He doesn't want to make them more mad. But he doesn't want to make Buster mad instead. He hands him a packet of astronaut ice cream instead.

"Where'd you get that?" Kitty asks, surprised.

"I made it," Davey says. He usually shares with Dvd and Divad. They each eat one of the flavors. Davey picks first and usually takes strawberry.

Kitty takes the packet from Buster and peers closely at it, suspicious. She carefully tears the foil and sniffs. She takes out the paper packet and freeze-dried ice cream dust trickles out. Lockheed jumps down to the floor and sniffs at the dust, nostrils flaring.

Davey takes a small step back, worried he made a mistake. He's not supposed to tell anyone about his powers, not even Amy, but everyone here knows about mutants, a lot of them are mutants. Or they say they are. If they're even real. Maybe it's all a trick to make him tell people he shouldn't, and he's going to be taken away. He'll never see Mommy and Daddy and Amy again.

If it's a trick, Divad's not here to warn him, and Dvd's not here to protect him. He's on his own, like he used to be. Just him and Baba.

Kitty nibbles a chunk of ice cream.

"How's it taste?" Buster asks, wary.

Kitty holds out the paper bag and Buster takes a piece, eats it. "It's good!" he says, pleased.

"You can have the rest," Kitty says, giving him the bag. "I'm still full from breakfast." She turns to Davey. "Davey, are you okay?"

Davey doesn't answer. It feels like a trap.

"You don't have to be scared," Kitty says, gently. "A lot of kids are really scared when they first get here. Being a mutant out there-- A lot of bad things can happen. Did bad things happen to you?"

Davey stares at her, still not sure what to say.

"It's okay if they did," Kitty says. "But you're safe here. You don't have to hide."

Lockheed looks up from the carpet and looks intensely at Davey. It crawls forward and Davey wants to run but he can't, he's stuck as the dragon reaches him and starts to sniff him like it sniffed at the ice cream dust. It gets up onto its hind legs and sniffs Davey's hand, and then bumps it with its nose.

"You can pet him," Kitty says. "It's okay."

Cautious, Davey reaches out and touches Lockheed's head. The scales are strangely smooth and rough at the same time. Davey pets them lightly, touching the small horns on the dragon's head. Lockheed gives a rasping, barking sound, and it reminds Davey of King, and he feels a little less scared. He pets Lockheed some more.

"I have a dog," Davey admits. "I guess he's back home. His name's King."

"What kind?" Buster asks.

"He's a beagle," Davey says. "Do you have a dog?"

"Nah, one of my dads is allergic," Buster sighs. "We have a couple of cats though." He frowns. "I hope they're okay. I dunno if me and my dads can go home. There's a lot of bad stuff happening."

"Are you going to stay too?" Kitty asks.

Buster shrugs. "I think my dads are trying to figure that out. If we do stay here, is it safe to bring the cats? Or will Lockheed, y'know--"

"He won't eat them," Kitty says, certain. "Lockheed's very smart. He already met Matilda. Syd's cat?"

"Syd has a cat?" Buster asks, interested. "Can we see it?"

"Sure," Kitty says and starts leading the way. "I've been checking on her but she mostly hides under the bed. Maybe she'll come out for Davey. She knows you, right?"

"No," Davey says.

"Oh," Kitty says, surprised. 'But they came here together...' "Okay."

They reach Syd's room, and as expected, Matilda is hiding under the bed. There's a container of cat treats on a shelf and Kitty offers one to Matilda. Matilda just hisses at her.

"Maybe she's scared of Lockheed," Buster says.

"Lockheed won't hurt her," Kitty protests, offended.

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that," Buster says. "Can he wait outside?"

Kitty sighs but coaxes Lockheed to follow her out, closing the door behind her.

Buster gets down on the floor and looks under the bed. "He's gone now, it's safe." He sticks out his hand, patiently offering it to Matilda. "Everything's okay," he soothes.

Davey lies down on the floor next to Buster and looks under the bed. He can see the glow of Matilda's reflective eyes. He can feel how scared she is. She's lonely, too. She wants to go home. Her sadness makes Davey's chest hurt. He wants to go home too.

To Davey's surprise, Matilda creeps forward a little and sniffs Buster's hand. She must like how he smells, because soon enough she's out from under the bed and in his lap, eating snacks from his hand and purring loudly.

"Wow," Davey says, impressed. "How'd you do that?"

"I'm good with cats," Buster says, quietly proud. "Plus I probably smell like mine. You can pet her if you want, she's really soft."

Davey reaches out and touches Matilda's head. Her fur is very soft.

"Wanna hold her?" Buster asks. And then Davey has a lapful of fluffy, warm, purring cat. It makes his chest hurt again, somehow.

There's a knock on the door, and when it opens, there's Syd. Past her, he can see Melanie is talking softly to Kitty.

"Hey," Syd says. She steps inside and sits on the bed. "How's Matilda doing? I see you got her out."

"She's afraid of Lockheed," Buster says.

"Lockheed won't hurt her," Kitty protests, defending her dragon again.

"I'm sure he wouldn't," Melanie agrees. "But I think Matilda would appreciate having time to adjust to a new place."

Davey can feel Melanie and Syd looking at him. He holds Matilda closer and keeps his eyes down.

"We need talk to Davey alone for a while," Melanie asks. "We'll bring him back downstairs as soon as we're done, okay?"

Davey can feel Buster and Kitty worrying about him as they leave. People are always worrying about him and he hates it. They can't do anything to actually help him so it just makes him feel bad on top of everything else. If they really cared about him they wouldn't worry, they'd just-- They'd leave him alone.

He wants to go home. He wants to wake up and be home. He'd beg to go home but he knows it won't help, any more than people worrying helps. He just has to keep going until it's over.

"Looks like you've made a few friends," Melanie says.

Davey doesn't answer.

"Would you like to have your own room here?" Melanie asks.

Davey shakes his head no.

"Okay," Melanie says. She goes quiet but he can hear her thoughts racing. She's trying to figure out how to help him. She doesn't know she can't.

Syd sits down on the floor beside him, but she doesn't say anything. She just pets Matilda's back. Matilda's tail twitches, but in a happy way.

"Davey," Melanie starts. "Do you know where you are?"

"Syd's room," Davey says.

Melanie gives an amused huff. "Very true. And what about this building? Do you know what it is?"

Davey shrugs.

"It's a school for mutants," Melanie says. "Most of them children, like you. It's meant to be-- A haven. A safe place to heal, to grow and learn. I had a place that was-- Very similar. It was my home for a long time, and I miss it very much. Do you miss your home?"

Davey feels a lump in his throat. He nods.

"I'm sorry you can't be there," Melanie says. "We've all lost our homes and we're trying to make a new one together. We'd like you to help us, how does that sound?"

Davey shrugs again.

"I think Matilda likes you," Syd says.

"She was scared," Davey tells her. Cat thoughts are different from people thoughts, but the emotions are the same. "You left her. You leave her alot."

He can feel Syd's surprise. "You're right," she admits. "I'm sorry." She scritches behind Matilda's ears. "I'm sorry, Matilda. I'll make sure you're not alone, okay?"

"Davey, would you like to help take care of Matilda?" Melanie asks. "Buster and Kitty could help, too. How does that sound?"

Davey's not sure about that. Does that mean he has to stay here? He doesn't want to stay here, he wants to go home. And if he can't go home, he wants to hide under the bed with Matilda.

"You know, I don't think we were properly introduced," Melanie says. "My name is Melanie Bird. I'm a human, but it's my job to help mutants like you. My husband Oliver is a mutant, his powers are a lot like yours."

"I'm Sydney Barrett," Syd says. "You can call me Syd. I'm a mutant, too. Melanie helped me, and now I work with her. And I'm friends with your system. I hope we can be friends, too."

Davey looks at them, wary. He and Dvd and Divad have been together for a while, and he doesn't remember seeing Syd before all of this. But maybe she met them when he was away? Sometimes he goes away for a while. But how does she know about them? They always pretend to be him.

"Is there anything you want to ask us?" Melanie asks. "You can ask anything you want. We won't get mad. You can ask me-- If I pick my nose!" She smiles, then lowers her voice. "Sometimes I do."

"Gross," Davey says. He can't help but smile a little.

"You can ask me what my favorite color is," Melanie says. "My favorite movie. Who my best friend is, or if I ever get scared. And you can ask Syd anything, too."

"My favorite color is orange," Syd tells him. "What's yours?"

"Blue," Davey says, thinking of his rocket lamp.

"Blue's very pretty," Melanie says, pleased. "I have two favorite colors, white and green. Now, some people tell me, you can't have two favorite colors! But I do anyway. And some people tell me white isn't a color, because it's all the colors put together. But that's why I like it. And green, well, that's the color of nature, of trees and plants. Do you like being outside?"

Davey nods. "I play in the forest a lot. With, um. Amy and King. He's my dog."

"That sounds wonderful," Melanie says. "There's a very nice park near here, with lots of trees. Would you like to go there today? With us and Buster and Kitty?"

"Okay," Davey says, softly, looking down at Matilda. "Can Matilda come?"

"She's never been outside before," Syd says. "I don't want her to get hurt or lost."

"Never?" Davey asks, upset for Matilda.

"She's always been an inside cat," Syd says. "But we could try taking her outside. If you think she'd like that."

"She wants to run away," Davey admits. If Matilda wasn't stuck in here, she wouldn't hide under the bed, she'd run and run until she was home. Even though she doesn't know where home is, she's sure she would find it.

"Then let's see if we can find a cat leash first," Melanie says. "A walk in the park sounds wonderful. Do you take your dog King out for walks a lot?"

"Yeah," Davey says, missing King terribly. "We do everything together."

"I bet you do," Melanie says. "Is he a good dog?"

"The best," Davey says, proudly. "He's really smart."

"Can he do tricks?" Melanie asks.

"He can do anything," Davey says. King can sit or play fetch, he always knows how to cheer Davey up, he lies in bed with Davey at night and protects him. Davey doesn't understand why Dvd and Divad don't like King anymore, why they make up stories about King being mean. Maybe Baba's right and they're the mean ones. But that's hard to believe too.

"Maybe we can find a dog park and you can play with the dogs there," Syd says.

"Maybe," Davey says, unsure. Other dogs aren't like King, they can be scary. And he already has Matilda and Lockheed to play with.

Melanie stands up. "Syd, you see if you can find a cat leash. Davey, let's give Matilda a tour of her new home."

Matilda's ears flatten in fear as he carries her out of Syd's room, but Lockheed must still be downstairs with Kitty and Buster. Her ears turn forward again as they walk through the unfamiliar hallway.

"Up here on the third floor are the bedrooms," Melanie explains. "Most of the rooms are doubles, so everyone has a roommate. Sometimes it's nice to always have a friend around." They walk past a lot of closed doors, peek into one open, empty bedroom, and then find a kitchen and a large room full of chairs and sofas and a ping-pong table. There's bookshelves stuffed with books and games and all sorts of things. Everything looks like it's used a lot. The room is airy and full of light from the large windows.

"This is one of the common rooms," Melanie says. "A place for the kids to relax and hang out together. You can always come here whenever you want. There's snacks in the kitchen, too. Maybe we can have them put in a cat tree there." She points at an empty spot where there's a warm sunbeam. "I bet Matilda would love to sit up there and bask in that sunbeam. And everyone would give her cat treats." She grins. "We can pick one out later if you want, with Syd?"

Davey gives a distracted nod. Maybe he'll sit with Matilda here later and see if she likes it.

They pass another common room further down the hall, and a third room set up for quiet reading or studying. Then they go down the stairs.

"Here's mostly classrooms and offices," Melanie says. "This is where the students go to class. They learn about how their powers work, how to use them. And there's the usual school stuff. Math, science, all that. Do you have a favorite class at your school?"

Davey thinks about it. Divad likes most of the school stuff, and Dvd likes gym class the best, and recess. "I like art class."

"Oh, I love art," Melanie says, pleased. "What kinda of art do you like best?"

"All of it," Davey says, feeling a little burst of happiness. "The colors and painting and there's clay and sometimes we use glitter and each piece of glitter is like a tiny star."

"Well!" Melanie says. "Then we definitely have to get you to the arts and crafts room. How does that sound?"

"Yeah!" Davey says, grinning, and then fear twists in his gut and he goes still. His grip on Matilda slips and she claws at him trying to stay up, and then jumps off him and runs away down the hall. Melanie reaches after Matilda, then turns back to Davey.

"Davey?" Melanie asks, frowning. "Tell me what's wrong."

Davey backs up slowly, looking around through the corners of his eyes. The monsters show up when he's too happy, he's not supposed to-- If Divad was here, he'd know what Davey should do to keep the monsters away. If Dvd was here, he'd know if it was safe.

He doesn't see any of the monsters, but they have to be here. They're hiding but they have to be here. They've never been gone this long, not all of them. They must be planning something big. They're going to hurt him, he knows it. It's gonna be bad, it's gonna be really bad and he doesn't have King or Dvd or Divad or Amy or Mommy or Daddy.

"Davey," Melanie says, gentle and worried. "It's okay. No one's going to hurt you here. You're safe here. I promise, you're safe."

Davey shakes his head. Nowhere has ever been safe, not home or school or anywhere. His heart is racing so fast his chest hurts, and it's hard to breathe.

"Davey," Melanie says, her voice calm and steady. "I know you're scared and that's okay. You're having a panic attack. Those can be very scary and I know you're feeling really bad. But I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere." She takes his hands in hers, then she takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out. "Breathe in, hold it, and breathe out, okay? Just like me."

Davey resists at first, still desperately searching for any glimpse of the monsters. But Melanie is right in front of him and focused on him and he can't help but copy her.

"Tell me something you can see," Melanie says, still calm. "I see the carpet. I see a doorknob. What do you see?"

"Window," Davey forces out.

"Very good," Melanie says. "I see the sun through the window, and blue sky and fluffy clouds. Do you see all that?"

Davey nods. His back is flat against the wall, and he can see out the window on the other wall.

Melanie puts her hand on the wall. "I can feel the wallpaper. Can you feel it?"

Davey presses his palm against the wall. The wallpaper is textured. He nods.

"I could use a hug right now," Melanie says. "Can you give me a hug?"

Davey steps forward and holds Melanie tight. She holds him and rubs his back, hushes him. "I'm right here. Everything's okay. Just breathe, okay sweetie? Nice and slow. You're doing so well."

"Matilda ran away," Davey sobs. She ran away and it's all his fault. Now they'll never go the park and everyone will hate him. They’ll change into monsters and hurt him.

"I'm sure she hasn't gone far," Melanie soothes. "I bet if you concentrate, you can hear where she is. Can you do that?"

Davey sniffs and rubs his eyes. It's hard to concentrate but he tries. "She ran upstairs."

"Cats like high places," Melanie says. "I bet she's going back to her room. Can you tell?"

Davey listens. "I think so." Matilda's focused on safe, she needs a safe place. "She's gonna hide under the bed. It's safe there."

"We all need a place where we feel safe," Melanie says. "Is there somewhere you feel safe?"

Davey shakes his head.

"That's okay," Melanie says. "Would you like to be where Matilda feels safe? In Syd's room?"

Davey hesitates, then nods. He feels so tired all of a sudden.

"I'm gonna pick you up, okay?" Melanie says. When Davey nods, she hefts him up into her arms, and he rests his head on her shoulder.

He keeps looking for the monsters, but if they're here, he can't find them.

When they reach Syd's room, Melanie puts him down on the bed. She pets his head and smiles warmly at him. Then she peeks under the bed. "There's our wandering girl."

This close, Davey can really feel how scared Matilda is. He feels awful for scaring her. She must hate him now.

Melanie reaches under the bed and pulls Matilda out. Matilda hisses at her but Melanie isn't afraid. She pets Matilda until the cat calms.

"There, that's better, yeah?" Melanie tells Matilda.

She puts Matilda on the bed and Matilda goes right to Davey and rubs her head against him and purrs. He can feel that she forgives him, and he scoops her up into his arms and holds her close.

"How about we rest together for a while?" Melanie says. "When you feel better, we'll go downstairs together and see if Syd found that cat leash. Okay?"

"Okay," Davey whispers. He still doesn’t see any monsters. Maybe Matilda can keep the monsters away, like King can. He pets Matilda and feels her calm, and Melanie's calm, and lets their calm wrap around him like a blanket.

Maybe that was it. He was confused and scared for long enough and now Baba will forgive him, like Matilda did. If he closes his eyes, when he opens them again, he’ll be home. He just has to close his eyes and he’ll be home.

Chapter 216: Day 16: Best of both worlds? (Dvd)

Chapter Text

If Dvd doesn't hit something soon, he's going to explode. He's going to tear down the whole goddamn world until it's just him and David, and then-- He doesn't know what then, but it sure feels like tearing down the whole goddamn world should fix something. He's tempted to pull a David and teleport to the middle of nowhere and absolutely trash the place, take his turn carving NO into some giant rocks.

He won't. He's being the goddamn responsible one as always. Divad might think that's his job but Dvd knows better. Divad's job was to be an asshole. Dvd's job is to hold everything together no matter what it takes, to keep them safe.

All his headmates are shielding their thoughts and he hates it. For decades he's been desperate for a way to stop hearing David's thoughts, and now it feels like the end of the world. If he had external telepathy, he could at least get into Ptonomy's head and know what he's thinking about David. He could use Syd and Amy and everyone else as his eyes. Instead he has to wait here and stew over the burning dumpster fire that Farouk turned them into.

He should be the one out there with David. He should be the one in DC helping David there, too. He should have come back as multiple Dvds so he could be there for all three of them at once. Maybe it's not too late, maybe if he gets upset enough he'll just pull himself apart like David did.

Maybe not. He's never been so pissed off about being the strong one. Fuck all of this, fuck it fuck it fuck it.

After what seems like several eternities, Ptonomy comes back inside. Alone. Dvd immediately starts past him to go to David, but Ptonomy gets in his way.

"Move," Dvd snarls.

Ptonomy doesn't even flinch. "He's not ready to see you."

"Fuck you," Dvd spits.

"I know you're upset," Ptonomy says.

Dvd gives a sharp, mocking laugh.

"But you're not ready to see him either," Ptonomy continues. "Are you really ready to know how bad this is?"

That finally makes Dvd falter, but he refuses to back down. "I've been there for him through everything. I've been the only thing keeping him alive. He needs me."

"And Farouk used that," Ptonomy says, voice firm but understanding. "He took it, Dvd. I'm sorry."

"No," Dvd says, absolutely refusing. "You're wrong."

"I wish I was," Ptonomy says.

"He rejected Farouk," Dvd says, certain. "We did it together, we killed that asshole together."

"He only did it because we pushed him there," Ptonomy admits. "He wasn't ready, and now this is the pushback. You go out there and push him again, it's gonna be even worse."

"So what, we let Farouk win?" Dvd challenges.

"Absolutely not," Ptonomy says. "But you can't heal David by overwhelming him with love. You never could and I think you've always known that."

"Fuck you," Dvd says, stung.

"We win by giving David time to heal at his own pace," Ptonomy continues. "By being there for him while giving him space to figure out who he even is now. Farouk's gone, you made sure of that."

"And Amahl?" Dvd challenges.

"Oliver's talking to him now," Ptonomy says. "You're not the only one who's protecting your system. Melanie and Syd are with Davey. Amy's taking care of David and Divad. All of us are still here for you and we're not going anywhere, okay?"

Despite himself, Dvd feels a little less like ending the world. Being less angry makes him more annoyed. "And what, now it's my turn to get 'helped'?"

"Oh, absolutely," Ptonomy says, pleased with himself. He walks over to the nearest pair of chairs and sits down, and gestures for Dvd to join him.

Dvd glares at him.

"You can stand if you want," Ptonomy says. "Let's talk about what you need to heal."

"This is ridiculous," Dvd says. "I'm fine."

Ptonomy just gives him a look.

"I hate you," Dvd says, glaring at him, but it comes out more sullen than angry.

"Your whole system has been through hell," Ptonomy says, blunt but kind. "That includes you. I know David is what keeps you going. Loving him, taking care of him. Being angry at anyone who hurts him."

Dvd crosses his arms, hating how Ptonomy can get right under his skin.

"I don't want to take any of that away from you," Ptonomy continues. "Those are powerful, important, valuable parts of yourself and how your system survives. But things have changed and they're going to keep changing. David, however many parts he's in, is going to keep changing. If you stay the same, he's going to leave you behind, and I know you don't want that."

"He needs me," Dvd declares, even as fear twists in his gut.

"He does," Ptonomy agrees. "But the ways he needs you, the ways you fit together, those aren't the same as when you were little kids or teenagers. Think about all the progress you've made with David's older self. You were a complete stranger to him. It's a lot better now, right?"

Dvd grumbles. It still feels wrong to have to share David with so many people, to stand by while he loves Syd the way he should be loving Dvd. But it's better than David being afraid of him.

Dvd sits down next to Ptonomy and sighs. "I thought--" He stops, struggling to even find the words, much less say them. "Fuck the shit beetle, I don't care about how. We got the rest of him back, and I thought--" He swallows, throat suddenly tight. He tries to keep going but the words just won't come out.

"You thought-- Best of both worlds?" Ptonomy suggests. "All the healing from David's older self, and all the good memories you shared together?"

"He loved me again," Dvd says, eyes suddenly damp. "On that stupid date. We put them back together and I saw, I felt it. I wanted it to be like that. It's not fair. I waited to get him back for so long--" He cuts off again, upset, angry at himself and at David and at the whole shitty world, and furious beyond words at Farouk for fucking them over from beyond the goddamn grave. He wants to kill Farouk again and again and again and never stop.

"You're right, it's not fair," Ptonomy says. "Nothing about your life has been remotely fair. But Farouk is gone for good. He left behind a hell of a lot of damage. But you can absolutely heal, your whole system is already healing. The goal here is to help you heal together. To change and thrive together. I know you want that."

Dvd can't even bring himself to nod, but it's true. He does want all of that. It just feels impossible.

"I just want him back," he says, miserable.

"And he wants you back," Ptonomy says. "But if you go out there and try to pretend everything's like it was ten years ago-- It's not what either of you needs now. Even if that dream year never happened, it still wouldn't be what you need now. Dvd, was it even what you needed back then?"

Dvd sighs. He knows it was bad, that he clung to those years because-- That was all he could do while he was trapped for a decade, cut off from David while everything went wrong. He already faced that. But getting David's memories back--

The best of both worlds. Even though Dvd was there for everything Farouk put David through, everything except that goddamn fake year, he still hoped-- He wanted it to like be that moment on their ridiculous date, the moment when David remembered.

But of course it's not. And it feels awful to admit it, but--

"I knew it wouldn't-- I knew killing Farouk wouldn't fix us. But I wanted it to be true. I hated-- Everything. All the shit he put us through. I wanted killing him to take all of it away. And the moment we get back, David's dragging us off to fucking space. David's all over a fucking copy of Farouk. I'm still the last thing he wants and you know what? Maybe I was always just like Divad. Maybe David never needed any of my bullshit. Maybe I'm the one who should stop existing because what's the point of me, huh? What's the fucking point?"

"Do you want to stop existing?" Ptonomy asks, serious.

"No," Dvd sighs.

"Good," Ptonomy says. "You know what you don't want. You don't want to die. You don't want to be afraid or in pain. You don't want to feel helpless while the rest of your system suffers. Those are all really good things to not want. Right?"

Dvd shrugs.

"So let's focus on what you do want," Ptonomy says. "You want David to love you back. You want the pain to be gone. You want to heal and you want your system to heal. You want to be safe and happy together. Those are wonderful things to want."

"Not if they're impossible," Dvd says, slumping.

"They might feel impossible," Ptonomy allows. "Especially right now. But your system is capable of amazing things. How far did you go yesterday? The asteroid belt? That's an incredible achievement. And that was after you faced down Farouk. Syd and Lenny killed Farouk's body, but you stopped him for good. You made sure he'll never hurt anyone ever again. All of us are so proud of you and grateful to you for that. I know it's-- Not something I like to think about. But Farouk infected me with that mental parasite that fed on me and killed me. So I got a taste what he did to you. And the strength you showed in surviving decades of that? If you put that strength into healing, you will heal."

"I hate your pep talks," Dvd grumbles.

"Did it help?" Ptonomy asks.

"Yes," Dvd admits, annoyed about it. "Fine, I'm amazing. Whatever. How do I fix David?"

"Fix him or get him back?" Ptonomy asks.

"Both," Dvd says.

"Weren't you the one who told David to split into parts?" Ptonomy points out. "He needs to be this way right now, and maybe he always will. Can you accept that?"

"Of course I can," Dvd says, insulted. "But he wants to be one David and I want him to be one David."

"So you can both have the best of both worlds?" Ptonomy asks. "Fusing means bringing all that trauma together. Honestly, I think it also makes new trauma, which is why David had to split."

"New trauma?" Dvd asks, unsure.

"Think about how upset David was just now, learning that you experienced his suicide attempt," Ptonomy says, serious. "To fuse, younger David would need to accept everything that happened in those ten years without you. He spent most of those ten years in a suicidal state, with at least one serious attempt, and now he would know you were there the whole time. The Dvd he loves so much."

"Shit," Dvd says. It's a kick in the chest.

"And older David," Ptonomy says. "The truth is, a lot of his healing is based on the memories and sense of self Farouk created for him. That fake, happy childhood, and believing he was schizophrenic. If he loses that, it'll be a hell of a blow. Remember how he reacted when we tried to find a real memory for him?"

"He went away," Dvd remembers. David was devastated just from being told about his real past. He's come so far since then, he's so much less fragile-- But then, once they realized the memories were gone, they stopped trying to make David remember.

"And whatever's contained in Davey-- I don't think either David is ready to face that," Ptonomy says. "How do you feel about Davey?"

Dvd hesitates. Of course he's tried to be there for Davey, but he's been so torn between the Davids-- "Dunno," he admits. "He feels-- Far away?" He realizes he should probably be just as worried over Davey as he is both Davids, but--

"I think your system as a whole is dissociating from him for a reason," Ptonomy says. "When you're all feeling up to it, it's something you need to talk about. Just be gentle. I think this is the first time your system is dealing with this situation. Having a child headmate in an adult system. Right?"

"Yeah," Dvd admits.

"It was never safe before," Ptonomy says. "You couldn't even afford to have fragments out on their own. It's very possible that your system is going to grow over time, not shrink. There may be more fragments, more alters of different ages and aspects."

"You're joking, right?" Dvd says, horrified. They're barely holding it together as six.

"It's very common for systems as they heal," Ptonomy says. "As you feel safer, more relaxed, parts that were deeply hidden can surface. Think of it as-- Reassociation. Reconnecting with the parts of yourselves that are about more than immediate survival. Not just David parts. Dvd parts and Divad parts, and parts that aren't attached to anyone."

"How do we stop it?" Dvd asks, already dreading the chaos.

"It's not a bad thing," Ptonomy says. "If it helps, most of them probably won't leave your inner world. And if they do, we'll all be here to help them. My point is-- You said it yourself. You'll be what you need to be. And all of that is okay. You don't need to fight it. David needs to be more than one David and that's okay. If you want to be with all of him, be with all of him. Just not all at once. Love each part for itself."

"That's not how we worked," Dvd admits. Any fragments that broke off always had to go somewhere. Either to Dvd or Divad, because none of them ever wanted to go back to being David. But he thinks about the self-harm fragments that Divad took in, and how they changed him. He wonders what's inside himself.

"How do you want to work now?" Ptonomy asks. "Forced fusions and rigid roles, motivated by fear? Or something better?"

"Something better," Dvd decides. "It's just--" He gives a frustrated sigh. He reaches out and he can feel each of his headmates, but not what they're thinking or feeling. Just their presence. Is that enough? He'd say it feels like an amputation, but that makes him feel like Farouk, and fuck that. But Farouk was never part of their system.

"It's lonely," he admits. "Not hearing David all the time. I thought I wanted it but--" He swallows. "It's like he's gone."

"You could ask him to share," Ptonomy says.

"I don't wanna hear him," Dvd admits, and feels terrible about it. "I sure as hell don't want to hear him longing for the shit beetle." He makes a retching sound. He crosses his arms, pissed off all over again.

"You did call his thoughts torture," Ptonomy reminds him. "And I understand why. I listened to them too, from the mainframe. David's thoughts can be incredibly painful. Right now, I wouldn't chose to have them in my head."

"I never had a choice before," Dvd says, thinking back. "And I figured, Divad and I both figured-- That had to be for a reason. So we could help him. Not hearing him-- He needs me and I can't hear him. I can't know what he needs, I can't--" He gives a frustrated huff. "I'm useless."

"If David asked you to help him right now, would you do it?" Ptonomy asks.

"That's a stupid question," Dvd says, rolling his eyes.

"Would you help him?" Ptonomy asks again.

"Of course!" Dvd says.

"And does he know that?" Ptonomy asks.

"Of course," Dvd says, almost entirely certain. Farouk did a lot to mess that up with both Davids. But Dvd's been right there for them, as much as they let him.

"Then when he's ready for your help, he'll ask," Ptonomy says. "And that's okay. It's good for him to be able to ask. It's good for you to not be constantly trying to anticipate what he needs. Healthy boundaries, right?"

Dvd makes a disgusted noise. "Healthy boundaries suck." He just wants to hold David forever and never let go. And none of the Davids will let him.

"I know you're focused on what David needs. But what about what you need?" Ptonomy asks. "David's in DC, do you want to go be with him?"

"I have to be here," Dvd says, certain. "We have three new headmates."

"And all three of them are being helped," Ptonomy reminds him. "Me, Melanie, Oliver, Syd. And if we need a break, there's Buster and Kitty, the Karies, Hank, Forge, I bet Mara'd love to help--"

"Okay, okay," Dvd says, annoyed. "But what if they do something, huh? You think any of you idiots can stop them?"

"What would they do?" Ptonomy asks, ignoring the insult.

"I dunno," Dvd says, defensive. "End the world? Blow shit up? Drag all of us into space?"

"You're really mad at David for that one, huh?" Ptonomy says, amused.

"It was so fucking stupid," Dvd says. "I thought David was done being that fucking stupid but no, he's right back at it. And what's the other one gonna do, huh? Or Davey? You don't get it, you can't just wait for them to ask for help because they won't ask and then it‘s gonna be too late."

"And what's the alternative?" Ptonomy asks, sobering. "Trapping them inside your inner world? I know what happened when you were teenagers. You and Divad had no control with Farouk in charge, so you controlled David. That was a terrible mistake, Dvd. It can't happen again."

"Don't talk to me about mistakes," Dvd says, angry. "You locked us up real quick."

"We did," Ptonomy agrees. "But we didn't do it to hide you away. It wasn't like Clockworks. We did it to figure out what was going on and help you, and stop Farouk. It wasn't perfect, but I think we got there, right?"

Dvd gives a grumbling acceptance.

"Farouk worked incredibly hard to stop your system from ever getting real help," Ptonomy says. "He kept you isolated and vulnerable for decades. You have every right to be angry about that. But Farouk is gone. That life he made you live? You do not have to live it anymore, not any part of it. It'll take time and work to fully see that, but you have that time. There's a whole world of people who can help. There's opportunities you've never even allowed yourself to imagine. There's parts of yourself waiting to be discovered."

"You never cared about us before," Dvd says. "You hated us, and now what, you just changed your mind?"

"Yes," Ptonomy says, plainly. "I was wrong. I judged your system without even knowing it and I'm sorry."

Dvd doesn't want to accept the apology. He wants to be angry. He wants an excuse to blow this stupid mansion up and get David and leave.

He wants to go back to the way things were. When they were lonely and afraid and David was so broken they couldn't even start to help him. When David's thoughts were torture and Divad and Dvd hated each other.

It's bullshit, he knows it's bullshit. He feels like he's trapped in an old memory, walking through it like those memory walks. Trapped in some well-worn groove he's walked through over and over.

It's how David felt on that fucking asteroid. But David always has Dvd to talk him out of it. Dvd doesn't have anybody.

Except fucking Ptonomy, apparently.

"I want you to know that I hate you," Dvd grits out. "And I hate that you're right. I hate being fucking scared. I'm not supposed to be scared, okay? That's not my goddamn job."

"I know," Ptonomy says, calmly.

"I hate change," Dvd declares. "It fucking sucks. Nothing good ever happens. I don't trust any of this. You're all gonna fuck off and abandon us. Farouk's gonna weasel his way back. Amahl's gonna fuck us over and make us Joonam again. David's gonna screw everything up and get us locked up again or try to kill us or--" His voice catches. He doesn't mean any of it, not really, but he feels like he'll explode if he doesn't let it out. "It's my job to know that everything's gonna go wrong. We always lose. The world hates us. You hate us. This is a trick, every good thing has always been a goddamn trick."

He stops, breathing hard, on the verge of violence or tears or both. He realizes he's trembling. He feels like he needs to shout all of it all over again forever, and if he says a single word more he'll break.

"Is that how it feels all the time?" Ptonomy asks.

Dvd gives a short nod.

"Thank you for sharing that with me," Ptonomy says. "I mean it, okay?"

"Whatever," Dvd says, looking away. He feels raw.

"It's a lot to carry," Ptonomy says. "And despite all that, you still hope. You don't give up. You fight and you love David with everything you have just to keep him going one more day."

"Fuck you," Dvd mutters.

Ptonomy doesn't answer. Dvd wants to teleport away and lick his emotional wounds, but he stays. It's stupid to stay but he stays.

"Have you ever told your headmates any of this?" Ptonomy finally asks. "How you feel."

"Yeah, right," Dvd scoffs.

"Give it a try," Ptonomy says. "You don't have to say all of it. Just pick one thing. Open up a little. I think they're ready to listen. At least Divad and the older David. Just think about it."

"Fine, I'll think about it," Dvd says, mainly to shut Ptonomy up already.

"Thank you," Ptonomy says, genuinely. "Go to DC. Be with them. Everything'll be okay here. If it's not, you can say I told you so. Deal?"

"What kind of a shit deal is that?" Dvd says, unimpressed. But despite all his worries-- He wants to go. He needs to be with David. He wants to be with Divad. And Amy's there, too. "Fine," he relents. "But you break it, you fix it," he warns.

"They'll be fine," Ptonomy assures him. "I'll see you later."

Dvd forces himself to stand up. He takes a step forward and when his foot comes down, it lands on plush carpet. The room is dark, lit by a single bedside lamp. David and Divad are asleep in the bed, but Amy's sitting up between them, wide awake and tense.

"Dvd," Amy says, relieved.

"You okay?" Dvd asks, immediately worried. What went wrong now?

"Just startled," Amy says. "I already talked to Oliver about it. Just-- Trying to wind down."

Dvd gives her a suspicious look, certain she's keeping something from him. But David's out cold so there's no way to check.

"Everything okay?" Amy asks.

"If you can call it that," Dvd mutters. "Apparently it's all under control. Ptonomy annoyed me until I left."

Amy eases. "He's good at that." She slips out from under the blanket and crawls off the bed. David and Divad don't even twitch. Before Dvd even realizes what she's up to, Amy gives him a big hug.

Damn it.

Dvd holds her back and refuses to cry.

"Take my spot," Amy says. "To be honest-- I need a break. Living body and not an android," she jokes, gesturing to herself.

Dvd doesn't even have it in him to protest. He crawls right into her spot, still warm from her body. Divad and David both shift a little, but only to snuggle up against him from both sides. How can they be so relaxed? Divad never snuggles. They must think he's Amy. Maybe they won't want him, like David didn't want him--

But then David cracks one eye open. "Dvd?" he murmurs, sleepy.

Dvd's heart twinges. "Yeah."

"Good," David murmurs. He yawns, wraps one arm and a leg over Dvd, pulling them completely together, and falls back to sleep.

Dvd feels like he might explode again, but in a good way this time. He doesn't feel remotely sleepy at all. But he carefully wraps one arm around David and holds him back. It would be so easy to sink into their body and rest together the way they used to, but he stays in David's embrace. He feels Divad pressed against his back, Divad's hand limply resting on Dvd's side. He feels the warm puffs of David's breath against his neck, and the the slow, steady beat of their heart in David's chest.

He barely notices as Amy slips out and closes the door behind her.

Chapter 217: Day 16: Baby, you already fucked it up. (David)

Chapter Text

David doesn't want to wake up, still recovering from bone-deep exhaustion. He's waking up anyway, awareness creeping in. He feels warm, almost hot-- The kind of hot that comes from sleeping under a blanket, tangled up with another person. Philly? He shifts, reconnecting with his limbs, his senses. He reaches out and pulls close, breathes in, reaches out with his mind. Syd?

Not Syd.

There's a touch to his back, and another to his mind, familiar and gentle. Dvd.

David tenses, then relaxes. Dvd's hand pets his back, his shoulder, and the touch is soothing through his clothes. Dvd's mind is soft and loving against his own. As he wakes, he realizes the two of them are pressed close, their legs tangled, arms around each other, David's head wedged between Dvd's shoulder and a pillow.

He feels a flush of embarrassment, but not enough to want to move away and give this up. They lie together for a few more peaceful minutes and David feels his body soaking up every touch. He needed this.

Finally he shifts, raises his head. Dvd looks back at him, eyes shining with happiness even in the dim light.

"Hey," Dvd murmurs. "Feeling better?"

David gives a small nod. Despite all the rest, his brain still feels overworked. He's not ready to think yet, to remember. He brings his head back down, resting it against Dvd's chest.

Despite himself, he remembers-- "Where's Amy? Divad?" They were here when he fell asleep.

"At the mansion," Dvd says. "Divad's keeping an eye on things. You know he likes to worry. But everything's fine."

David doubts their new headmates are remotely fine, but he's not awake enough to deal with them yet. He's glad Divad is there. He's glad Dvd is here. He still hasn't let Dvd go.

"You okay?" Dvd asks.

David gives a little shake no.

He feels a ripple of fond amusement from Dvd. Dvd leans down and kisses the top of David's head.

"You're in a good mood," David mutters, muffled against Dvd's chest.

"I am," Dvd says.

Dvd runs his fingers through David's hair, strokes his head and neck. David's attention follows each stroke. Dvd kisses his head again, then again.

"I love you," Dvd says, and David feels it, a little sun somehow blazing outside and inside of him at the same time. It makes him feel things he doesn't have words for and maybe never will.

When Dvd leans down to kiss him again, David rises up and meets him.

It's not their first kiss. But the other David isn't here for David to share his feelings. It's just the two of them. The sun inside him and around him flares bright and hot and makes him feel wide awake and alive.

They breathe against each other's lips, both of them surprised. David can feel Dvd's hesitation, worry creeping in. So David kisses him again, and means it-- But then feels suddenly shy, and rests his head down against Dvd's chest again.

"You okay?" Dvd asks again, though David can feel Dvd's own jumbled emotions.

David gives a little shake no, again. But that feels wrong. He lifts up his head and faces Dvd. The two of them have been through so much, come so far since Dvd was just another voice in his head. And the feelings that have grown between them-- In the peace and quiet of this moment, they're finally too strong to deny.

"I don't know what I'm doing," David admits. It feels like the motto for his entire life.

"Kissing me?" Dvd says, with a twitch of a smile.

"I like kissing you," David admits, blushing even as he says it. "I like you. I just--"

"It's weird," Dvd offers.

"It's really weird," David agrees. Where to even start? That Dvd is a man? That they used to be together? That David doesn't remember ever being with a man before, except that not only were he and Dvd lovers, but he was in a relationship with Benny, too? Dvd is his headmate, technically a part of him, so is having a relationship with himself some kind of weird egotistical masturbation? And what about Syd? Is this cheating? Except Dvd was first, so maybe being with Syd and Benny and Philly was cheating on Dvd? What if something goes wrong, it's not like one of them can leave. Philly always left, and Syd-- What happens when he fucks this up too? He always fucks everything up. He's fucking up right now.

Dvd's eyebrows rise at the shared rambling thoughts.

"Sorry," David mutters, embarrassed. "I just--"

"It's a lot," Dvd agrees.

David gives a miserable nod. He finally lets go of Dvd and rolls onto his back. He stares at the ceiling.

Dvd lies down beside him, then reaches out and takes David's hand. David holds it back.

"If you're not ready for this, it's okay," Dvd says. "I waited ten years to get you back, I'm a patient guy."

"You, patient?" David says, skeptical. Except he knows Dvd can be incredibly patient. "What if I never fall in love with you?" he challenges, needing to.

"That would be shit," Dvd says, plainly. "I'd hate it. I'd be miserable. Lucky for both of us I'm so irresistibly loveable." He says it both joking and completely serious.

"Yeah," David sighs. He is falling in love with Dvd. Maybe he's already fallen. He knows the signs well enough by now, even without the kissing. He wants to kiss Dvd again. He wants to do more than kiss. Maybe it's just-- Post-crisis euphoria? Making it out of everything alive and basically intact?

No, he can't talk himself into that one.

"Fine, I guess I love you, too," David relents.

"Very romantic," Dvd says, amused. But he gives David's hand a squeeze. "It's not masturbation. Though that can be arranged," he adds, smugly.

David feels another flush of embarrassment, and more than a little curiosity. But there's still plenty of problems. "What about Syd?"

"What about her?" Dvd says.

"We just patched things up, I don't want to hurt her," David says. He loves her so much. After everything he put Syd through, because of his own stupidity and because being with him made her a target--

"She already knows she's gotta share you," Dvd says. "But fine, we'll talk to her. Get her blessing. How's that?"

"Better," David admits. He considers what's left. "It's weird. I know there's-- A hell of a lot of my life I can't remember. That I'll never--" His throat tightens and he moves on. "So I guess I'm bi." It's one of the most normal things in his life, it's just-- Unexpected. "I wish I could remember Benny."

"I remember him," Dvd says, though he's not thrilled about it. "So does Divad. If you wanna see--"

"I do," David says, then remembers what he learned about Benny. "Just-- Not right now." He can't take any more bad news for a while.

"It wasn't all bad," Dvd admits. "He made you happy sometimes. Like Philly."

David sighs and turns over again, wraps an arm and leg around Dvd and rests his head on Dvd's shoulder. Dvd rubs his back and gives him another kiss on his head.

"What was it like?" David asks, "Being with me, before?"

"That doesn't matter," Dvd says, certain.

"It doesn't?" David asks, surprised.

"It's a fresh start," Dvd says. "We're different people now. We make our life what we want. That's it."

David considers that. It's not wrong, but-- "Tell me anyway." When Dvd starts to argue, David insists. "I'm the one who was with you, not the other David. I know he has the memories. But it was us, right? It was me."

"Yeah," Dvd says, roughly.

"I forgot you in college," David continues, needing to get a sense of it all. "So we were together for what, almost twenty years?"

"Almost," Dvd sighs.

"I'm sorry," David says, realizing this isn't easy for Dvd.

"You deserve to know," Dvd admits. "So ask."

David nods against Dvd's shoulder. "Was it right away? We were just little kids, right?"

"We loved each other," Dvd says. "The three of us. Every day was a battle but we had each other's backs." He pauses, thinking. "We always loved each other. But I guess-- It changed. We got older. You needed more."

"So you just did it for me?" David asks, wary. He knows how much Dvd has sacrificed for him, if it was never more than that--

"Fuck no," Dvd says, certain. He sighs. "Look, it was messy. But we both wanted it. Divad was jealous as hell, but you wanted me and I wanted you, end of story."

David doubts it was ever that simple, but he accepts Dvd's version for now. "Okay. And then what?"

"Things were good for a while," Dvd says. "Good as they could be. Then we lost Mom. I tried to help, keep you--" His voice wavers. "You pulled away. Lashed out. It sucked."

David's brow furrows. "Did we-- Break up?"

"Eh," Dvd shrugs. "It's not like we were boyfriends. That's not-- We weren't outside people."

"But we were? Boyfriends?" David asks.

"We were more than 'boyfriends,'" Dvd says, with feeling. "Look, I didn't think I was a person back then. But if I did, I would've married you."

"Oh," David says, surprised.

"Yeah," Dvd says, voice rough again. "I fucking loved the hell out of you, David Haller, okay? And you broke my heart a bunch of times but it wasn't your fault. I knew if we could-- If we could just get free. One day we'd be free and we'd be together for the rest of our life."

David looks up to see tears in Dvd's eyes. But Dvd's already wiping them away.

"I'm sorry," David says. Despite everything, this is still his fault. This pain. If he was the same person then as he is now. Some of it was his mess, it had to be.

"Yeah," Dvd says. "Look. We made it. Okay? It was hell but we made it. We're free. So you want to know if I want to be with you? That is all I fucking want. That's my choice. Whatever it takes. You think I care if you fuck it up? Baby, you already fucked it up. You're stuck with me." He's smiling now, despite his teary eyes. His joy is only a little bittersweet.

It's terrifying how much Dvd loves him. It scares the hell out of David. How could he deserve it? He just doesn't. Part of him wants to run away, to prove he doesn't deserve it, but he literally can't. They're not outside people. They're a system. And Dvd is the part of their system that has always loved David. That love had to be powerful to survive Farouk.

And they survived. They made it. They're free.

David closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Childhood devotion, and then-- Puppy love, he supposes, then winces at the unintended pun. Adolescence and the stress of unimaginable horrors. Holding on to each other to survive. And then Dvd had to watch, helpless, as David withered away right in front of him. And then helpless again, after Farouk took control.

It would be cruel to reject Dvd now, after all that. And David doesn't want to. Whatever pieces of that love are still inside him-- He wants to connect them with the new love he's feeling now. Like-- Oliver and his poetry, and congee, and Melanie.

Melanie.

Dvd is his Melanie.

Of course. Realizing that brings it all together.

"I loved you," David decides. "Thank you for-- Never giving up on me." Like Melanie never gave up on Oliver. And then Oliver refused to give up on Melanie, after she forgot, too. They found each other again, so can David and Dvd. "We have a second chance. I want to be with you. I want to--"

He doesn't even finish before Dvd pulls him into a passionate kiss. David gives a muffled squeak, surprised, and then eases, welcomes it.

When Dvd finally pulls back, his eyes are shining again, overflowing with love and grief. David's heart aches for him, for what they had and lost. It's gone now, despite whatever memories he gets to share one day with the other David.

But that's okay. They're building something new and better.

"C'mere," David murmurs, and pulls Dvd close, holds him. Rubs his back to soothe him. Kisses his head. It feels good to be able to return even a little of the care that Dvd has given him.

"We'll talk to Syd," David promises. "She'll understand. And if she can't-- Then I'll hate it. But if she can't accept our system--"

"Stop it," Dvd says, grinning and teary. "Shut up or I'm gonna do something stupid and propose."

"You what?" David laughs.

"I'm not doing it now," Dvd tells him. "But that's only because I'm not rushing this and fucking it up. But one day, you got it? Because I'm a goddamn person now and people do that shit."

"Got it," David says, reeling at the thought. It's definitely too soon for any of that. But the idea still pleases him. He never thought about marrying anyone before, he never-- He never had enough hope for himself for that.

That hope still feels delicate. There's so many problems waiting for them outside this bedroom. He knows as soon as they leave, it's all going to come at them again. But right now, just in this moment-- He's happy.

"I'm happy," he tells Dvd.

“I’m fucking ecstatic,” Dvd declares, and kisses him again.

They lie together for a while longer, talking and kissing but mostly resting, letting their decisions settle. David feels happy and calm and good, and like somehow things really will work out okay.

So of course, reality intrudes.

He hears a familiar mind below them, entering downstairs. Ptonomy. He's in a serious mood, and there's someone new with him. Another mutant, a telepath with shielded thoughts. She feels powerful, perhaps dangerously so.

He tells Dvd and they collect themselves, and they meet Ptonomy and the new mutant on the office level.

It's a woman, older than them and wearing an all-white, tailored suit and matching heels. Though they look nothing alike, David is reminded somehow of Clark. The first time they met, in that fake interrogation room.

'Trouble,' Dvd thinks, already braced for an attack.

Ptonomy is tense, but David doesn't feel any fear from him. At least not fear of this woman.

"David and Dvd Haller," the woman says, in a way that's friendly but also-- "It's an honor to meet you at last. The system that saved the world."

David and Dvd are both startled by her knowledge. Dvd glares at Ptonomy.

Ptonomy is unruffled. He's probably immune to Dvd's glares by now. "This is Emma Frost," he says. "She's the head of the-- Political division of Charles' group."

"Political division?" Dvd says, skeptical. "What are you, a spy?"

"When necessary," Emma says, also unruffled. "I'd like to thank you. Not just for stopping Amahl Farouk, though that telepathic storm of his was-- Extremely unpleasant." She gestures at her head. "You uncovered the secret I've been searching for, for a very long time. Admiral Fukuyama."

"The Admiral?" David says, surprised.

"Shall we have a seat in my office?" Emma says, and gestures to the room where David had his session with Ptonomy this morning. She walks past them and into the office.

"This is her--" David starts, looking around at the fancy home with new eyes. "Oh!"

"Emma is a friend," Ptonomy tells them. "She's a big part of what we're doing right now. We can trust her." The last he says mainly to Dvd.

Dvd remains skeptical.

They go into the office and Ptonomy closes the doors behind them, and brings a third chair over to the pair in front of the desk. Emma is already behind her desk, and it's obvious now that this space is hers. The three of them sit, with David in the middle.

"Your father, Charles," Emma begins. "He and Oliver Bird shared a great dream for mutantkind. But as more mutants appeared, powerful people saw us only as a threat to be eliminated. They created the Divisions. But in those early days, the Divisions were easy to avoid. It only takes a few telepaths to reveal every one of the enemy's plans. And then something changed. Somehow, no one in the Divisions was in charge anymore. Every one of them was merely carrying out orders given by someone else. Your father asked me to find that someone. We thought perhaps it was another telepath, turned to their side. We even thought it might be Farouk." She give a brief, tight smile. "Now we know it was your Admiral."

"He's a good person," David defends, needing to. "He helped us." Without the Admiral--

"They're not in trouble," Emma assures them. "What was done to them-- They became a tool. A shield against telepaths. A way for our enemy to safely make their plans and give orders to their passive, hate-filled soldiers. And now-- That shield is gone. The Admiral is giving us everything they know. And they know even more than me." She smiles again, this time more genuine, and satisfied.

"Between the Admiral and Emma's network, we now have enormous political leverage," Ptonomy explains. "There are other mutant resistances across the world and we're working together. It's gonna take time, but-- This is our chance to fulfill that dream."

"Just like that?" Dvd challenges.

"There'll be bumps," Ptonomy admits. "No political change is easy. With a big one like this, we're gonna piss off some people, and there'll be backlash. But all those mutants the Divisions hurt and killed? Families and communities around the world remember them now. They feel the pain and grief of those losses. They're angry at those who made it happen. Farouk got his revenge on the Divisions for helping you, he knew just where to hit them to bring them down. Now we're using that for something good."

It all makes sense. David knows exactly how much pain and grief and anger people are feeling right now. He's been doing his best to tune it out, to turn the roar of humanity down to an ignorable burble. He's had his own pain and grief and anger to deal with.

He didn't know he was a mutant until a couple of months ago. He didn't know what a mutant was. But he used to. He used to know exactly what he was, and his adoptive parents warned him about the Divisions. What it means to be a mutant is-- Another piece of himself he needs to rediscover, like being in a system, like his love for Dvd.

"Great, so everything's fixed," Dvd says. "You're welcome, by the way. We done here?"

"No," Emma says. "We have a problem. And by we I mean you and your system." She looks directly at David and Dvd. "You're right, you are the ones who stopped both the Divisions and Farouk. You're also the most powerful mutant on Earth. Whether you like it or not, this means you are now public figures. The entire world, including our enemies, is already trying to find you, whether they know it or not. They want answers. And when they find them--"

Dread sinks David's stomach like a stone.

Dvd riles. "No one's ever gonna hurt us again. They even try to touch us--"

"You'll what?" Emma challenges. "Brainwash them? Turn them into dust?"

Dvd clenches his jaw and glares at her.

"This is not a problem that will be solved with powers," Emma says, calm and certain. "We solve it with PR. If we act fast, we get to tell the world who you are. We decide what version of your story will end up in the history books."

The last thing David wants is to be in the history books. He looks pleadingly to Ptonomy. "Can't we just-- Keep me a secret?"

Ptonomy shakes his head. "It's too late for that. I know this is a lot to ask, but Emma's right. That first impression of you is going to define how the entire world sees you for the rest of your life. We need to be the ones in control."

"The world could meet David Haller, the mutant who overcame his tragic life story to heal his trauma and save the world from two great evils," Emma says. "Or they could meet the crazy, unstable mutant who thinks he's a god and was put on trial for ending the world."

David groans and covers his face, slumps in his chair.

"This is bullshit," Dvd says, angry.

"You are about to become the face of mutantkind," Emma says, bluntly. "I'd like that face to be an appealing one. Otherwise your existence is going to make everything we're doing a lot harder."

"So now if people hate mutants it's our fault?" Dvd says, upset.

"It will be, if you refuse," Emma tells him. "This isn't your decision. It's too important. But your cooperation will make everything easier for all of us. I'm arranging a televised interview with one of our assets. It'll be friendly with just enough hard questions to satisfy our audience. This will be going global. You'll have full support and and prep, but time is short. Do whatever you need to do to be ready and get your story straight. We'll start with David only and then bring in Dvd and Divad, maybe a few minutes of little Davey if we can make it work. He's good for a lot of sympathy, he'll help people imagine you being tortured as a child."

David groans again, horrified and humiliated. "This is an actual nightmare."

"Fuck all of you," Dvd says, furious. "Fuck the entire world. You can't put him through this. Hell, you can't put me through this!"

"Politics is a dirty game," Emma says. "Your father knew that very well. But we have an incredible opportunity here. You made that happen, so own it. Do the follow-through."

"If it helps, you're not the only one going public," Ptonomy says. "I'm testifying before Congress. So are Clark and Daniel. The story of the Divisions and Summerland-- All those secrets are over. We're facing it together, like we always do. Right?"

David can't reply. There's too many catastrophic scenarios going through his head. He should've stayed in bed. He was so happy just a few minutes ago. Everything was great. He thinks back to lying there with Dvd, feeling loved and in love, feeling like this huge piece of his life was actually healing.

And all those feelings are still there. All that love and trust and safety. Despite what just got thrown at them, their foundation is strong. They made it strong.

He knows Emma and Ptonomy are right. Changing the world means the world knowing who they are. And he never wants to go through what he did in that courtroom again, accusations thrown at him with no way to defend himself. Farouk and Future Syd ruining his life. He refuses to let it happen again.

David pulls himself together, straightens up. He breathes out. "Right," he answers. "It's my story, our story."

"It is," Ptonomy agrees.

"We don't have to do their stupid interview," Dvd says, still mad.

"Yes, we do," David accepts. "I hate it too. But they're right." And just to Dvd, he thinks, I don't want us to be framed again.

Dvd softens at that. He gives an annoyed huff, then relents. "Fine," he says, but glares at Emma again, warning her.

"Excellent," Emma says, pleased. "I'll be in touch." She gestures towards the door.

Clearly they're dismissed.

"You two need to get back to the mansion," Ptonomy tells them, once they're back in the waiting room. "Talk to Divad, get him on the same page with this. And then the three of you need to sit down and talk with the rest of your headmates. I know it's not fair to push you on this, I'm sorry. I know none of this has ever been fair. But you have the tools and you have our support. You can do this."

"You can't come with us?" David asks.

"I have to go to Brussels. I'll be back as soon I can," Ptonomy says. He raises his wrist and says, "Kurt, I'm ready for that ride."

There's a puff of sulfur, and a man appears, a striking figure with blue skin, golden eyes, pointed ears, and an actual tail. David and Dvd both stare in surprise.

"David, Dvd, this is Kurt Wagner," Ptonomy introduces. "He's part of the team in Europe. What have I missed?"

"Just more of the usual," Kurt shrugs. He has a strong German accent, and he's wearing one of Forge's radio watches. He turns to David and Dvd. "We've been hopping around the capitals. Political disaster tourism." He chuckles at his own joke. "You're welcome to join us when you're free. There's a lovely bakery in Prague you must try. They make the best kolaches."

"Uh, thanks," David says. He has no idea what a kolach is. He can't stop looking at Kurt's tail. Do other mutants have tails?

"We'd better get back, I left Erik and Raven in meetings," Kurt says.

"You can do this," Ptonomy tells David and Dvd again. Then he takes Kurt's hand, and with another puff of sulfur, they're gone.

David remembers when he was brought to Summerland and learned about mutants for the first time. Despite his confusion and struggles at the time, he had this sense of awe, of-- Discovering an entirely new part of the world. He's having that same feeling again now. Possibilities opening up.

It's a good feeling.

"Let's go," David says to Dvd, and offers his hand. Not for teleporting, but just because he wants to hold Dvd's hand.

Dvd huffs and takes it, still annoyed about the interview.

"It'll be okay," David tells him. And then, glancing back to make sure Emma can't see them through the open office door-- He gives Dvd a quick kiss on the cheek.

Dvd blushes. It's adorable.

"It'll be okay," David tells him again. He's beginning to believe it himself.

Chapter 218: Day 16: A very rational decision. (Rational David & Past David)

Chapter Text

For a while, David's rational mind sleeps with David. The morning sun is pleasantly warm and the breeze gently ruffles their hair. With David unconscious, the telepathic world is silent, leaving only the twittering birds and distant sounds of people and traffic. David's rational mind dozes lightly, drifting in and out, checking to see if David is waking or if anyone comes over. Eventually he feels rested enough, refreshed, but David is still deeply asleep. The poor lad really did get entirely worn out.

David's rational mind pushes David a little further back to let him rest peacefully, and stands up from the bench and stretches. While their astral form isn't their actual body, these new powers truly do make it feel remarkably solid. David's rational mind takes in the novelty of being out here and fully in control of the experience.

And speaking of solidity, he does actually feel a bit peckish. Can he eat, as an astral projection, without David's assistance in moving the food between planes of reality? This form certainly seems to be in the physical plane already. It could be a mere illusion, but the other David has already created entire living bodies by moving astral forms to the physical plane. Not quite the same as their situation, but the only way to know for certain is to test it. And from the position of the sun it does appear to be lunchtime.

He makes his way back into the mansion and strolls through the hall, taking his time and examining their surroundings. He notices a blank spot on the wall where one of Charles' portraits had been. Curious, he looks around and finds another blank spot. Ah, they must have taken them down to avoid upsetting David further. Good, a very rational decision. His David hasn't been too engaged with the whole Charles debacle so far, but he certainly has every right to feel the way the other David does. Not a rational reaction, perhaps, but an understandable one. David's rational mind can feel empathy for that. He was created in part to figure out their adoption, and the truth is rather more complicated than a few chalk drawings.

The mansion is surprisingly empty. Rather than go directly to the cafeteria, he starts exploring in search of the others. Though the downstairs is empty, he does find occupants in the lab upstairs. The Admiral, two Vermillion, Forge, and Doctor Orwell. The Admiral is sitting upright but his eyes are closed. Perhaps not literally astral projecting, but his mind still elsewhere.

"David?" Doctor Orwell says, surprised to see him. She exchanges a wary glance with Forge. "We thought you were sleeping outside. Is everything all right?"

"Actually, I'm not David," David's rational mind corrects, calm and friendly. He wants to make a good first impression. "I'm one of his headmates, David's rational mind? We're fused. David's still napping." He gestures at their shared astral form, then holds out their hand. "It's good to meet you both."

Doctor Orwell and then Forge each shake his hand.

"Oliver mentioned you," Doctor Owell says. "I didn't realize you could uh--"

"Be in charge?" David's rational mind offers. "Well, I'm fused with David because I want to help him. So most of the time I'm happy to take a back seat. But it's good to have a look around. Where is everyone?"

"They went into town," Forge says. "Took the kids for a walk, some fresh air, lunch. Davey's with them. I guess you can just teleport there, right?"

"Tempting," David's rational mind admits. "But I wouldn't want David to wake up in the middle of all that. He's still feeling quite poorly."

"Of course," Doctor Orwell says, understanding. Empathetic. "Well, we've been making great progress in restoring the mainframe. One of the Vermillion went out with everyone. There's a few of them wandering around, calibrating. Not very talkative but then they never were. One of them is down the hall, ah, keeping an eye on Amahl."

"Ah," David's rational mind says. He definitely wants to keep David away from Amahl for a bit longer. "And how is Amahl?"

"Oliver gave him a good distraction," Forge says. "He's reading Charles' research, trying to prove him wrong." He chuckles, amused at the idea.

"If he can contribute anything, I'll take it," Doctor Orwell says.

Interesting, David's rational mind thinks. Oliver focused Amahl back on Farouk's original obsession: Charles Xavier. Very clever. Oliver has quite the sharp mind, now that it's all back together again.

"And my other headmates?" David's rational mind asks. It still feels novel to consider Dvd, Divad, and the other David as his equals. But he certainly isn't just a fragment anymore.

"They're in DC," Forge says. "Not sure when they'll be back. There's a lot going down over there."

David's rational mind frowns at that. He doesn't much care for the idea of either David being involved with all that political chaos. They're stressed enough just experiencing it secondhand. Ah well, when David's awake again, he's sure the others will fill them in. At least as much as his David can handle, which admittedly isn't much.

"If it's over the line, just say so," Forge says. "But you have an English accent. Is that because of Charles?"

The idea gives David's rational mind pause. "I don't actually know. This is just how I was when David created me. The other David. But perhaps. We were sharing our body with Farouk at the time, and we were-- Connected to his memories somehow, on a subconscious level. We were thinking about our birth father." He shrugs. "It's my understanding that these things happen with systems. Accents and whatnot."

"Of course," Doctor Orwell says, giving Forge a warning look to let the matter drop.

"Well, we'll be downstairs if anyone needs us," David's rational mind tells them. "I'm sure we'll see you later. Even if I'm on the inside, feel free to say hello."

David's rational mind takes a peek down the hall. He sees a Vermillion standing in the hall, back ramrod straight, as it looks towards one of the open office doors. David's rational mind is glad to carry David away from that office and back downstairs.

He walks around some more, exploring, enjoying himself, and then finally makes his way to the cafeteria. Figuring out this eating situation is more than idle curiosity. If their new powers allow them to stay astral forms most of the time, being able to obtain energy and nutrition could be important for their astral bodies and minds. He does recall Cary and Kerry needing to eat-- Or at least wanting to eat, though they were no longer attached normally to their shared body. How are mutant powers even fueled? Surely not from a diet largely composed of cherry pie and waffles. Perhaps later, the next time David is resting, David's rational mind can go read some of that mutant research himself.

He assembles himself a healthy sandwich in the mansion kitchen. And then as he walks out, he bumps into Divad walking in.

"David?" Divad stares, confused.

"His rational mind," David's rational mind corrects. In general they can all identify each other no matter how similar they look, but being fused with David makes things tricky. "David's still napping. I thought I'd make us some lunch. Would you like to join us?"

Divad stares at the sandwich, then back at David's rational mind, clearly still processing. Then he start to shake his head no, then hesitates. "Can we eat like this? Without--" He gestures to indicate David's ability to move things through the planes of reality.

"That's what we're about to find out," David's rational mind says cheerfully. "C'mon, we'll split it."

They grab a table by the window and Divad takes half the sandwich. "It smells good." He waits for David's rational mind to pick up his. They each take a bite.

"You know," David's rational mind says, though his mouthful, "This is the first time I've ever eaten anything. I quite like it."

"You shared with me," Divad points out, through his mouthful.

David's rational mind swallows. "You know that's not the same."

"True," Divad admits. He pauses, considering. "It feels like eating in our body. Maybe-- Our astral forms can-- Intersect with both planes simultaneously?"

"Both astral and physical?" David's rational mind considers. "It's certainly possible. I'm sure once all the eggheads are done with the mainframe, they'll be more than happy to scan us silly."

"I'm one of the eggheads," Divad says, with mild offense. "And so are you, right?"

"Hm, I'm honestly not sure," David's rational mind admits. "I'm more about problem solving than science and engineering. I'm curious about what I can use to help David."

"Fair," Divad says. "Is he okay with all this?"

"We haven't discussed it in detail," David's rational mind admits. "But I told him I'd take care of us while he's resting. I'd say all this qualifies."

"Okay," Divad accepts. "Just be careful. There's a line and-- It's easy to cross."

"Of course," David's rational mind says, understanding. He knows that very well, from being fused with Divad for most of his short existence. "I don't want to take anything from him. When he's awake he's in charge, short of an emergency. To be quite honest, I assumed we'd integrate after we fused. I'd become a small part of him, like I was the other David."

"But now?" Divad asks.

David's rational mind shrugs. "We'll see how it goes. What David wants. Perhaps what I want."

"You could always come back to me," Divad says, half-joking and half-offering. "Kinda miss having you around right now."

"I'm here right now," David's rational mind points out. "Care to talk about it?"

"Will David hear?" Divad asks.

David's rational mind checks on him again. "I don't think so. If he starts to rouse I'll let you know. I'll want to go back to the bench anyway, so he wakes there. Go ahead, I'm all ears."

Divad starts to speak, stops, shakes his head. "This is so weird. You feel like David, but--" He stares, eyes full of emotion. "I guess this is what it was like. For Amy and Dad, after I-- Crossed the line." He gives a deep, regretful sigh. "Fuck. I just-- I dunno. I just-- Feel like absolute shit."

"About what?" David's rational mind asks.

"Everything?" Divad sighs.

"Surely not everything," David's rational mind says, gently teasing. The way he teased the other David in that mental classroom. It cut through the other David's panic at the time, helped ground him.

"I tried apologizing to David before," Divad says. "He's the one I-- But he can't remember any of it. So it doesn't mean anything to him. And apologizing to your David-- It doesn't mean anything to him either because he thinks he deserved it. And that makes me feel even worse."

"Ah," David's rational mind says. "You want forgiveness? Redemption?"

"I dunno," Divad admits. "I just want-- I want us to be okay. The whole point of me was to help and I fucked it up. I keep fucking it up. You're what I was supposed to be. Calm and rational. Actually helpful and not-- Whatever the hell I turned into."

Divad pushes the remains of his sandwich away, hugs himself and pulls back, visibly upset.

David's rational mind considers what to do. Divad's behavior-- He has the same mental wound as both Davids. So despite how it seems, it's not a problem of finding the logical action. It's about-- Compassion, empathy?

"You were being tortured at the time," David's rational mind points out.

Divad gives a miserable laugh. "Fuck." He looks to be on the verge of breaking down.

David's rational mind tries another approach. "All right. Forget about all that apology business. What are you actually trying to get from all this? What do you need now?"

"To undo my entire life," Divad sulks.

David's rational mind just gives him a look.

"Fine," Divad sighs, annoyed. He frowns, thinking. "I don't know. I'm just--" He sighs again. "Our whole life was about escaping Farouk. That's what college was about. Getting him out, killing him, whatever it took. Everything I did to David, that was why I did it. And now that it's done-- After what actually worked-- Every fuckup and dead end-- It's all screaming in my head."

"I see," David's rational mind says, considering. He did get a taste of all that from being Divad's rational mind, but it's clearly much worse now. "Do you think David accepting your apology will stop the screaming?"

"Probably not," Divad admits. "I just-- Don't know what else to do."

"That sort of desperation has not led to good things for us," David's rational mind points out. "What you need is more ideas. More options. The problem isn't how David feels. The problem is how you feel. So we help the screaming."

"With what?" Divad asks, at a loss.

"Search me," David's rational mind shrugs. "I've only existed for a few weeks, and for most of that I was you. Ask Oliver or Ptonomy or Melanie, or one of those new therapists floating about. I just know a bad idea when I see one, and trying to fix your pain through David is definitely a bad idea."

Divad puts his face in his hands and groans.

"You know I'm right," David's rational mind says, pleased with himself, and finishes off his sandwich. "Are you going to finish that?" he asks through the mouthful, pointing at Divad's abandoned food.

Divad waves for him to take it.

"It'll be fine," David's rational mind assures him. "How are things in DC?"

"Awful," Divad says, miserable. He finally drops his hands. "David was crying. I was crying. And you know the worst part? Ptonomy already got David making therapy plans. And they were good ones and it pisses me off because I can't even stand to look at my own fucking foundation work right now because I feel like a total useless fraud." He slumps back in his chair. "I'm supposed to be the one who helps him. How am I supposed to do that when he's a mile ahead of me?"

"There's just no pleasing you, is there?" David's rational mind says, unimpressed with Divad's little snit. "'David's too broken, it makes me sad. David's too healed, it makes me sad.'"

"I do not sound like that," Divad protests, embarrassed.

"I know you from the inside, my former fusionmate," David's rational mind says. "And I used to mostly agree with you. I thought blaming David for everything actually made sense. And that kind of thinking led all of us straight into becoming Joonam, myself included. It's one of Farouk's nasty little parasitic ideas, wormed its way deep into our heads. It's our job to do the work to get it out, and accept whatever help it takes." He leans back, brushes a few crumbs off their shirt. "I'm only a few weeks old but I have regrets too. The other David trusted me to protect our child fragments, and instead I led them right into Joonam. I feel like shit about it. But instead of sulking I'm helping David and now I'm helping you."

"You think I don't want to help, too?" Divad asks, upset.

"I know you do," David's rational mind says. "But you want to help on your terms. You need to be the strong one, and I'd wager that's what's making your head scream. Because you're not."

"Fuck you," Divad says, teeth bared.

"Oh, very mature," David's rational mind says. He refuses to get caught up in Divad's anger. Quite honestly, that anger was one reason he decided to leave Divad after the Joonam debacle. Dvd's anger might be loud, but Divad's can be far more vicious and irrational, even without those self-harm fragments. And he doesn't have Dvd's loving devotion to make it more palatable, only-- Lonely bitterness.

"You're lonely," he tells Divad. "You miss being close to David, either of them. You thought-- One day, you'd fix everything. You'd stop the monster and David and Dvd would be so grateful they'd forgive every shitty thing you did along the way. And now you're fucked. You helped, sure. Team effort. But David's the one who made it happen, not you. So now you're trying to wash your hands clean with some apologies, and that's not cutting it."

From the devastation on Divad's face, David's rational mind realizes that might have been a bit too lacking in compassion, forgiveness, and empathy. But Divad asked for his help for a reason.

"Look," David's rational mind says. "You feel like shit? Welcome to the system. I'm glad the other David has ideas for our recovery, we need all the help we can get. We had Farouk in our head, erasing our memories for decades. Taking away any good ideas that might actually help us, and doing his best to give us all the bad ones. Whatever's in there--" He points at Divad's head. "You know you can't trust it. So stop trusting it."

"What am I supposed to do?" Divad asks, at a loss. "Keep doing the opposite of everything? That was your idea."

"It was a good idea," David's rational mind defends. "If it's not enough anymore, ask someone else. You know, all that work we did in Cary's lab, and you only did the bare minimum. You decided since you weren't actively abusing David anymore, you were all fixed. But you were still betting everything you had on you being our savior."

David's rational mind feels David stir inside him, and chides himself for getting so riled up. He's supposed to be calm and rational, not getting angry at Divad for being an idiot.

"It's been a lovely lunch but I have to go," he says, standing up. "David's waking up, I'm taking him back outside."

"Wait," Divad pleads. "You're right, you're right about all of it. Can't you just-- Come back for a while?"

"I'm sorry," David's rational mind says. He heads out into the hall, hurrying as David begins to wake up. He barely makes it back to the bench in time, but he makes it. He looks out at the wide lawn and the trees beyond and the perfect blue sky, and he breathes in, breathes out, lets the tension out of their astral form.

There. That's better.

He belatedly remembers that they were lying down when David went to sleep, but it's too late now. David's rational mind slips back and gently guides David forward.

There's a moment of groggy confusion as David wakes up sitting upright. He remembers-- Falling asleep inside his rational mind. He instinctively reaches for his rational mind, and sags against the bench back in relief when he finds him.

'Have a good rest?' David's rational mind asks.

David gives a blearly grunt, rubs their face and tries to get his bearings. He doesn't feel as awful as he did before they slept, at least. He feels-- Groggy but also wide awake. He used to feel that kind of mixture a lot, sharing with Dvd and Divad or resting inside them. The fact that it feels strange now-- After all that time without it in the dream year--

He pushes the thought aside, not ready to deal with it yet.

Their stomach feels strangely full. "Did we-- Eat?" he asks, confused. They're still only an astral projection.

'Ah, I took us for a quick bite,' his rational mind tells him. 'Sandwich from the cafeteria. I hope that's all right?'

"Uh, sure," David says, still confused. "We can eat like this?"

'Apparently,' his rational mind says. 'To be honest it was a bit of an experiment. But a successful one.'

"Weird," David says. He looks down at their hands, their body. It does feel solid. He sees the edge of his scars peeking out of their sleeves and feels a flush of shame. He turns their wrists down, looks away.

'Most everyone is out for a walk,' his rational mind reports. 'They should be back soon. Dvd and the other David are still in DC.' He hesitates, then admits, 'And Divad just came back. He's--'

Before David's rational mind can finish, Divad walks out of the mansion, headed right for them.

'He's still upset,' his rational mind thinks. 'Perhaps I dropped one too many truth bombs.'

Truth bombs?

'We had a-- Not an argument, but--'

"You had a fight?" David asks, to both of them at once.

"David?" Divad asks, clearly checking to see who's in charge.

"Yeah," David says.

That seems to calm Divad down. "Can I?" He gestures to the other bench. David nods and Divad sits. "It wasn't a fight. I asked your rational mind for advice and-- It was good advice. Just-- Hard to hear."

David can't feel what Divad's feeling, his mental shields are up, but there's plenty of obvious emotion on his face. Guilt and shame and regret.

It's not what he's used to from Divad. Anger, frustration-- The Divad mask Farouk wore in his nightmares had plenty of that.

'This is the real thing,' his rational mind reminds him. 'He's an idiot but he's our idiot. Talk to him. If he gets out of line I'll sort him out, don't you worry.'

"Do you want to, uh, talk about it?" David asks, not sure what else to say.

Divad looks away, visibly struggling. Then he comes to some decision and turns back to David. "I just-- Really missed you. I'm really-- I'm really glad you're--" He stops, choked up, and struggles to collect himself. "I missed you so much. I'm sorry I fucked everything up, you don't have to accept my apology or anything, I don't-- I just want you to know that whatever you need, whatever I have to do to even start to make things right-- I'll do it. Okay? Because all I ever wanted to do was help and I fucked it up and now we have this-- Impossible second chance so--" He sniffs, looks away, wipes his eyes. "Yeah. All that."

"Oh," David says, at a loss. It's a lot and he doesn't know what to do with any of it. And it's mostly-- Not what he expected from Divad at all.

'I can tell him to go,' his rational mind offers.

'No,' David thinks. Divad being this way doesn't remind him of Farouk at all. It's new and confusing but-- Not bad.

"Maybe I should go," Divad says. "I'm sorry for dumping all that on you, I just-- I'll go." He starts to stand.

"Wait," David says. "Stay."

Divad sits back down. He looks at David expectant, unsure.

"I missed you too," David admits. "But the rest--" He shakes his head.

"It's too much," Divad accepts.

'How about telling him-- Let's just take it slow?' his rational mind suggests.

It feels like a good idea. "Let's just take it slow," David echoes.

Divad quirks a tiny smile. "I'm glad he's with you. Your rational mind."

"Me too," David says. He manages a small smile back. He looks out at the grass and forest and sunny sky. He feels the light breeze and tastes the fresh air as they breathe. He felt so awful this morning. Part of him doesn't want to feel better, doesn't want to accept that he does feel better. He felt so awful for so very long, even feeling a little okay is-- Upsetting.

'Take your time,' his rational mind soothes.

David's upset about feeling better. He feels like he needs to be upset. And maybe he's upset about feeling awful for so long, too, and needs to be upset about all of that too.

But he just wants to feel a little okay right now, and not deal with any of that.

'Everyone else went for a walk,' his rational mind reminds him. 'How about we take Divad for a stroll here? Stretch our legs?'

David reluctantly admits it's a good idea. "My rational mind thinks we should go for a walk. You know, just--" He waves their hand at the expansive lawn.

"I'd like that," Divad says. But he doesn't spring into action. He waits for David to decide.

David looks at the lawn again. He's been staring at it like it's unreachable. The world out there. But he's not trapped anymore. If he wants to go, he can just-- Go.

It's a lot. He's not ready for the world. But maybe he can handle a walk on the lawn.

"Me too," he decides. He works up his courage and stands, and Divad stands, too. David steps off the patio and onto the lawn, and Divad follows him, comes up next to him.

'There's no path,' David thinks. 'Which way should we go?'

'Whatever way you want,' his rational mind tells him. 'No wrong answers here.'

No wrong answers. Nothing bad will happen if he chooses left instead of right. It's just an open field, like the ones they used to play in with Amy. Back when life was still-- Bearable. Forever ago.

It hurts. Feeling better hurts. But he steps forward anyway. And Divad walks with him, in quiet company.

Chapter 219: Day 16: Ten years too late. (Rational David & Past David)

Chapter Text

They're heading back to the mansion when Divad stops, listening. "Dvd and David are back from DC," he tells them. "They're waiting for us inside."

"Oh," David says, immediately tensing up and ruining whatever good the stroll did them.

'It'll be fine,' his rational mind soothes. 'And if anything happens I'm right here, just like with Divad. All right?"

"David?" Divad asks, worried.

"Just-- Nervous," David admits. Things with Dvd are complicated. And things with the other David are worse.

"Me too," Divad admits, to David's surprise. "What, I can't also feel totally lost and have no idea what to do?" Divad reacts, half-joking and laced with bitterness.

"Do you?" David asks, even more surprised.

"Painfully," Divad admits. He cuts himself off. "Sorry. You're the last person I should be complaining to."

Divad starts walking again, so David does, too. They walk the rest of the way in silence, both of them anxious for what's ahead. His rational mind hangs back, quietly reassuring.

When they enter the house, they instinctively turn towards where they can feel Dvd and the other David waiting. They reach the library and walk inside. Four chairs are arranged around a low table, and Dvd and the other David are already sitting. Dvd is his usual self, and the other David is in a much better mood than he was this morning.

There's a stack of familiar notebooks on the table. The sight gives David dread, but his rational mind is pleased.

"Hey," the other David greets. "So, uh. How are you? I figured it's time we sat down together and-- Actually talked." He rubs his palms together, shifts in his seat. "Ptonomy gave me some ideas for a-- Recovery plan. Figuring out what we need to be-- Happy, as a system." He gives David a hopeful look.

David doesn't know what to say to that.

'Just give it a try,' his rational mind urges. 'Say okay.'

"Okay," David echoes.

"Okay," the other David echoes back, pleased. "Great.

"But we're just gonna talk first," the other David adds. "With everything going on--" He pauses, looks at Dvd for long enough that it's obvious some exchange is happening between them, either telepathic or just in meaningful looks.

"We have some news," the other David continues. "While we were in DC, well-- Two things happened."

"Just now?" Divad asks, surprised.

"Yeah," the other David says. "It's not like anything's getting calmer out there. You hear it too, right?" He looks at David.

"Yeah," David admits. It's been noisy out there since they got back, and now that the world's collective shock is wearing off-- There's a lot of anger churning things up.

"We met with Ptonomy and Emma," the other David continues. "Emma Frost. The place in DC? That's hers. She runs some kind of-- Political thing--"

"She's our birth dad's head spy," Dvd interrupts.

"That too," the other David says. "Anyway, she says-- Because of what we did, saving the world-- People want to know who we are. And if we don't tell them our story from our perspective-- Then someone else will tell it for us, and-- There's a lot that's-- Not a great look." He sighs, unhappy, then straightens up again. "So we have to do a TV interview. As a system. About our life."

"Are you serious?" Divad asks, horrified. "You agreed to this?" he asks Dvd.

"Hey, I hate the whole thing just as much as you," Dvd says. "I say, if people try to hurt us, we make em pay for it the old fashioned way."

"We can't," the other David insists. "We're the new face of mutantkind. If we hurt people-- The whole world will think we're a monster. And I can't--" He breaks off, upset. "I'm not going through that again."

"Through what?" David asks.

The other David stares at him, horrified humiliation slowly coming over him.

"Is this about Joonam?" David asks, confused. If it was about Joonam, he doesn't think the other David would be reacting this way. Joonam wasn't his fault at all. David prods at his rational mind, but his rational mind refuses to say a word.

"Great," Divad says, bitterly. "We have to tell the whole world some prettied up version of our story and we haven't even told him the truth."

"We tried. He didn't think we were real," the other David protests.

"He does now, right?" Divad asks, turning to David. "You know we're the real Divad and Dvd. You know Farouk took his memories--" He points to the other David. "--And gave them back to us, and that made you."

"Hey," Dvd says, upset. "Not like that."

"Then how?" Divad challenges. "You want someone else to tell him? It's his life, too, he deserves the truth from us."

"We can't just dump it on him," Dvd says. "He was upset enough this morning when he--" He cuts himself off.

"When he what?" Divad challenges.

"When he realized we saw it," Dvd says, giving David an apologetic glance. "That nightmare of him--" He gestures to his wrists.

"Oh," Divad says, realizing. "Shit." He looks at David, upset.

"We have to tell the whole world," the other David reminds them, and turns back to David. "Divad's right, you deserve to know. We've had enough of fake memories and lies." He's not happy about all this, but he's obviously determined. "Where should I start?"

David is curious about whatever big event brought all this up, but-- He feels like he's missing a lot more. "Everything?" he asks. "We were in college and then-- Suddenly I was in the lab, the dream lab. And now you're all older than me."

"Yeah," the other David says. "The short version-- Farouk figured out a way to-- Imprison Dvd and Divad. Stole my real memories and made me new ones, fake ones. A happy childhood. I forgot our system, our powers, everything. I thought I was crazy, that the voices and the monster were just-- Hallucinations. Schizophrenia."

"We're not--" David protests, instinctive after years of misdiagnosis. Farouk's games--

"I know," the other David says. "But I didn't then. I thought I was the one who went to college. But I couldn't--" He swallows, clenches his hands. "I was a complete disaster. Got expelled. Started taking-- All the drugs. I had a dealer, Benny. We were-- Together, apparently. Farouk took that too." He gestures at his head. "I tried to kill myself." He pauses, then points out a faint scar across his neck. "Amy had me committed, to save my life. Clockworks Mental Hospital. It was-- Not great. But they kept me alive, so--" His voice catches, and he turns away, eyes damp. "I called him the devil with yellow eyes. I saw him, I saw things--" He turns back again. "Six years. I met Lenny. Met Syd." He flashes a brief smile. "We fell in love. She left, I escaped. Long story, but-- They found me. Melanie, Ptonomy, the Karies-- Told me the truth, that I'm a mutant. They pulled Farouk out but he got away. And then--" He shakes his head. "I don't know how we're supposed to tell any of this to the world without sounding completely insane, but-- A version of Syd from the future kidnapped us. Dvd and Divad were back, I didn't know who they were. She told us to help Farouk so we did but it was just a trick. She said we end the world. So Division 3-- Put us on trial. Me. They didn't know about-- And either I got better or they were gonna kill me. So I got better. And, uh. Here we are."

The other David looks at David, waiting for his reaction.

David isn't sure where to start. He turns to Dvd and Divad. "The whole time I was gone--"

"We were trapped," Divad admits. "Like we trapped you, but-- Worse."

"And he didn't know you were there?" David asks.

Divad shakes his head. "He thought he was alone. He felt so alone." He turns to the other David, full of grief.

It's hard for David to even imagine it. Not having Dvd and Divad, not knowing anything-- And it just went on like that for years and years? But then-- Farouk tried to make it happen again, in the dream year. Not exactly the same, but--

"When we were together," David starts, looking at the other David. "One David. I had your memories, like-- You had mine."

The other David nods.

"I remember. Everything hurt," David says. It's a blur of overwhelming pain and grief and-- It was too much, it was all too much.

"It was awful," the other David agrees, with feeling. "I'm sorry I couldn't-- That we couldn't--" He swallows. "I really wanted us to stay together."

"Me too," David says. He felt so rejected after they split. So unwanted. But being without Dvd and Divad for all those years-- One year was horrible enough.

He looks at the other David again, at his neck. Their neck. Like the scars on David's wrists. All those years of being scared and alone and in pain-- A failure, stuck in a mental hospital.

It wasn't just the other David rejecting him. He rejected the other David, too.

"How long has it been since--"

"We got out of Clockworks a couple months ago," the other David says. "Plus a year, actually, because Future Syd dropped us off a year after she took us. Time travel." He shrugs. "But a couple of month for us. Two weeks since the trial."

David stares, stunned. It's hard to take in. "So two weeks ago-- Everyone thought we were going to end the world? Did we end the world?"

"In the other timeline?" the other David says. "Maybe. No way to be sure. But not in this timeline. Definitely not."

A few things about his confusing first days are starting to make sense. "That's why everyone was together. In the real lab. In Division 3. To help you?"

"Yeah," the other David says. "Once they found out about-- Dvd and Divad-- I guess-- I dunno. It changed things. Before that-- I thought--" He shakes his head. "Nothing good. Back to Clockworks, or worse." He looks down, reliving something painful. "Our friends saved us. Gave us help, support. We owe them a lot."

David turns to Dvd and Divad. "And you've only been back for a month?"

"Just about," Dvd says.

"It's so awful," David says, as it all sinks in. "You couldn't-- Use our powers? Escape?"

"Farouk was in control," the other David admits. "Honestly, it's um-- At that point I was just-- Swiss cheese memory and--" He swallows, tense and unhappy. "Clockworks was awful. But if Amy hadn't put me there-- I thought I was sick, I was sick. I wanted to die for-- Years. Then I met Syd and-- Even though I knew she'd leave-- For a while-- I had something to live for. Someone. And then I was in Summerland, and then Division 3, and Farouk was back and there were two Syds and these voices and--" He cuts off, voice trembling. "I tried. We tried to-- Figure it out but-- I just--" His chin quivers. "You know, in the fake memories-- I was happy. With Amy, King-- I was happy and it all fell apart. I didn't know what was real. Nothing helped. That was my life. And I get it, you know? Why you wouldn't want any of this." He gestures at himself. "Sometimes things are okay now. Even good. But it can take everything I have to just-- Remember that I'm David and I survived."

Dvd shifts forward, almost standing up to go over to the other David, but the other David gestures for him to stay.

"So that's what you missed," the other David says, when he collects himself again. "The short version. That enough?"

David nods.

There's an awkward silence.

"So what was the other thing?" Divad asks, changing the topic. "You said two things happened in DC."

The other David gives a brittle laugh. "Your turn," he tells Dvd.

"Right," Dvd says. He shifts, nervous. It's unusual to see Dvd nervous, and David wonders what the horrible news could possibly be. "So, uh, me and David--" He gestures to the other David. "We talked and-- You know we had that date the other night."

David was half out of his mind with fear and confusion at the time, but he remembers. It all makes a lot more sense now. Dvd bringing it up, though--

Dvd hesitates, then plunges on. "We're dating now. Boyfriends. It's official." He holds out a hand to the other David, and the other David takes it, his tension easing. He gives Dvd a small smile.

"I'm sorry, what?" Divad says.

"Are you seriously surprised?" Dvd says.

"No," Divad admits. "But-- Are you sure this is a good idea? What about Syd? What about David?" He gestures to David.

"I love him, too," Dvd says, certain.

"So what, you're gonna date both of them?" Divad says, unimpressed. "And Syd? Ms Jealousy?"

"We're gonna talk to her," Dvd says. "Either she understands or she doesn't."

"Are you insane?" Divad says, turning to the other David. "She got so jealous of her own future self she tried to kill us!"

"That's not--" the other David protests. "Okay, maybe she did, but-- She's better now."

"Syd did what?" David asks, alarmed.

"Farouk messed with her head," the other David says. "She didn't mean it."

"Sure looked like she meant it to me," Divad says.

"What, you're suddenly afraid of her?" Dvd says, suspicious. "I know what this is. You're jealous."

'Oh, this is not good,' David's rational mind sighs.

"Yeah, I am," Divad says, angry. "I helped him just as much as you. I'm the one who calmed him down, fixed his head."

"So you're his doctor now?" Dvd says.

"Whatever it takes," Divad snaps.

"Hey, that's enough," the other David says. "You are not fighting over me. This was my choice. I kissed Dvd, I told him I wanted this. I will talk to Syd and we'll work it out like mature adults. I think at this point we're actually capable of that."

Dvd and Divad both sit back, chastened.

"We're a system," the other David says. "We have to be honest with each other about our feelings and we have to work things out. Dvd and I used to be together. I don't have those memories anymore, but that doesn't make it any less true. What we had-- It's a part of who I am. A big part. And I want to get as much of myself back as I can." He eases and turns to Divad. "I know it makes things complicated. I'm sorry. But Divad-- I don't care about you any less because of how I feel about Dvd. I know what we used to have-- It ended badly. We've barely had any time to build a brand-new relationship, but I'm incredibly grateful to you for everything you've done. You've helped me so much. I love you and I trust you. I hope that's enough for now."

'Impressive,' David's rational mind thinks. 'I'd almost think I was in there!'

"It is," Divad says, accepting. "I'm sorry, it's just-- Been a rough day."

"Always," the other David agrees, with feeling. "I can't wait for an entire day where absolutely nothing happens."

"Someday," Divad says, longing.

"Look, I hate being the mature one," Dvd says to Divad. "But have you noticed that our life story is incredibly fucked up? You talked to Ptonomy, right?"

"Barely," Divad sighs. "Did five minutes this morning before I fell to pieces."

"You need way more than five minutes," Dvd says.

"His rational mind said the same thing," Divad admits, gesturing at David.

"Smart guy," Dvd says, and winks at David. "David's right. We gotta talk about this stuff. You know things have changed when I'm actually asking you to talk."

"Yeah," Divad says. "Thanks." He gives Dvd an apologetic look.

"It's okay, man," Dvd says. "C'mere." He stands up and holds out his arms. And Divad drags himself to his feet and hugs him back. They part and sit back down.

David stares at them, frankly astonished. "Were they like this when you met them?" he asks the other David.

"God no," the other David says. "They hated each other."

"The only thing we could do for ten years was yell at each other," Dvd admits. "But we did a lot of amazing yelling."

"The highest quality," Divad jokes.

"So how--" David asks the other David, at a loss. When he was taken-- When the memories that made him were taken--

"A lot of work and a lot of help," the other David says. "Like I said. Our friends saved us."

Dvd and Divad are actually joking with each other and hugging. It's light years from how things were in college. And nothing like the nightmares Farouk gave David in the dream lab, or the stories he told about them being the monster's masks. It's one thing for them to work together against Farouk, they always did that, but now that it's all over--

Those nightmares felt so real. He knows they'll haunt him for a long time. But maybe Ptonomy was right, and just being with Dvd and Divad-- Just seeing who they are now--

'Told you it was a good idea,' his rational mind says, pleased.

It should make him feel better. Dvd and Divad aren't gone, they never left. And they're free, they're safe, they have everything they ever wanted. But he just feels--

"David?" the other David says, looking worried. "Look I know me and Dvd-- You and Dvd-- It's a weird situation. But we can talk about it. Figure it out together. That's what we do now." He gives David a hopeful look, expectant, waiting for David to respond. And then Dvd and Divad are looking at him too, the same way.

It's too much. All of this--

He wants to go home, he wants to-- But it's been ten years. Dad's dead, everything's-- His memories aren't even his. Dvd isn't his. The only real life he's actually lived-- Was in the dream lab.

'Wait,' his rational mind urges. 'Bloody hell. Too much too fast.'

David doesn't want to be here anymore. He wants to go back to Amahl, he wants to just--

'Tell them,' his rational mind urges. 'Tell them how you feel, they want to know. All Dvd and Divad ever wanted was to protect you. You know that. You know they're the same-- Stubborn idiots they always were.'

Dvd and Divad and the other David are looking more worried now. Stubborn idiots-- When the monster was hurting them, David would always tell them to hide but they didn't want to leave him--

They should know how he feels. They always just knew. But now if he wants them to know-- He'd have to choose to share his thoughts, drop his shields. His thoughts are torture. He can't choose to hurt them.

'They don't have to feel what you feel anymore,' his rational mind reminds him. 'We can keep our mental shields up. Saying how you feel won't hurt them, and even if it does-- They need to know.'

They don't. They never did. They shouldn't have ever tried to help him, they shouldn't have saved him, Joonam was all his fault, everything was his fault.

"David?" Divad says, very worried now. He reaches out and touches their arm, and that one small gesture--

The world goes blurry and their chest is tight and they can't breathe.

Hands clasp around their own, and he realizes Divad is right in front of them, sitting on the low table. "It's okay," Divad tells him, soothing. "Everything's okay. Just-- Tell us what's wrong. Is it Dvd? If it's Dvd I'll kick his ass for hurting you, you know I will."

"Yeah, right," Dvd scoffs, but even though their blurry tears, David can see how worried he is. And guilty.

Dvd thinks it's his fault. And maybe it is, a little. How could Dvd-- How could he choose the other David over him?

Of course he chose the other David over him. The other David is real. David is just-- Farouk's creation. A weapon Farouk made to hurt the real David and Dvd and Divad. A tool to create Joonam. A trick, a joke.

'Let me tell you a real joke,' his rational mind says. 'The other David thinks he's not the real one either. That's Farouk's trick, making both of you think that. If you're not real he's not real either. But you do think he's real, so that makes you real, too.'

David's not sure he followed all that, but-- He looks past Divad to the other David. "You don't think you're real either?" he asks him, surprised.

The other David is just as surprised to be asked. "Uh, it's been a struggle," he admits. "Is that-- Why you're upset? You don't think you're real?"

"I'm not," David says, accepting that it's just the truth. "I'm just-- Stolen memories." He pulls free of Divad's hands, wipes their eyes. "That's why Dvd chose you."

Dvd and the other David look at each other, horrified. Then the other David turns back to David. "No, that's not--" He stops. "Look, I asked him for this. This was about me, not him. What I need. And if you need Dvd, too--"

David looks over at Dvd, and Dvd gives him a hopeful, longing look.

David looks away, needing Dvd and unable to need him without-- In the nightmares-- Everything Amahl told him about-- What they used to have, what David thought they had, what it actually was, what Amahl made it seem like it was--

He glances back and sees that Dvd is devastated by the rejection, though he's trying to hide it. David feels awful about it, he's hurting Dvd by rejecting him, he should do what makes Dvd happy and it shouldn't matter that it hurts--

But he can't. It's too much, he can't. And that makes him feel worse.

"Okay," the other David says. "So you want Dvd, but you're not ready to be with him. Right? I felt that way for a while, too. And it's okay, right Dvd? What we all went through-- Healing from that takes time, but we're a system and none of us are going anywhere."

"He's right," Dvd says, visibly pushing aside his disappointment. "We make our life what we want. That's it." Then he gives David a determined look. "If you need space to heal, you got it."

Dvd being all reasonable-- It annoys David. He wants Dvd to get upset, to be desperate for him, to be always close to him all the time, to make him feel better whether David likes it or not--

But that's how it was with Amahl, with Farouk. The whole thing makes him feel sick and confused.

'We're taking it slow, remember?' his rational mind reminds him. 'One baby step at a time.'

"Dvd's feelings aren't what make us real," the other David tells him. "We're already real. Accepting that is up to us. That's what our foundation work is for." He gestures at the stack of notebooks. "When I first understood what had happened to us, what Farouk did to us--" He looks away, swallows. Looks back, determination in his eyes. "We were one David. It wasn't for long, but we have that. All of our memories and feelings in one mind. Separating like this-- We chose this because it's what we need. Our choice, no one else's."

Divad slides out of the way, sits back in his chair. David looks at the other David, tries to understand.

He does remember being one David. He remembers them choosing to break apart. That was their choice. It's hard to argue with that, even though he wants to.

"I don't want it," David admits. "I hate it. Everything's wrong, everything hurts. I'm scared. I just-- I don't understand-- Why am I even out here? Why can't I just go back inside forever and you can be in charge or Divad or--" He shakes his head, lost.

"You deserve to be here just as much as the rest of us," the other David insists. "You deserve to get the help you always should have had. You can't get that if you hide."

"Maybe I don't want to get better," David says, stubbornly. "I'm the one who's supposed to suffer, that's my job."

"Yeah, we don't have those bullshit jobs anymore," Dvd says. "You know which one of us is supposed to suffer? Fucking no one."

"He's right," Divad says. "It was a bad idea. I'm sorry I ever believed it."

"You know, you're right about one thing," the other David says. "You should be in charge of our body again. Not forever, we share now. But-- You haven't been at all yet, right? In here." He puts a hand to his chest. Their chest.

"With you?" David asks, wary.

"No," the other David says, a little sadly. "Sharing's hard for me. It's a long story, I'm working on it. You'd be in charge."

"No," David says, instinctively refusing. He couldn't handle being in charge before, and when he woke up in the dream lab-- He pulls his wrists against himself, ashamed. "I can't, I'll--" If he hurts himself again, and he's in their body--

"Give it a try," the other David says. "Just for a minute? We'll all be right here."

David doesn't answer. But the other David leans back in his chair and closes his eyes, and then-- Their body is limp, empty, and the other David is standing next to it, gesturing for David to go in.

David stares at their empty body. He's never seen it like this before, someone was always in charge. "This is weird," he admits.

"Yeah," the other David agrees. "You get used to it."

David looks to Dvd and Divad. "You sure?"

"Very sure," Divad says, with feeling. He softens. "I want you to be in charge of our body. I trust you."

"I trust you, too," Dvd says. He nods at their body. "Go on, jump in."

David stands, steps forward, halting.

'Just sit and lean back,' his rational mind says, gently encouraging.

David sits. He braces himself for the worst and leans back. He feels their astral senses fade as they connect to their physical body.

He sits up, looks down. Their wrists are unmarked. Their arms are hairier. He stands up, feeling everything, all the little changes. Ten years is a lot of time, and David was afraid-- But it's still their body. It feels a little tired, like they're all tired, but-- Nothing bad. Despite everything it's been through--

He reaches up and touches their throat, feels the long-healed scar. He has the sudden need to-- See himself.

"A mirror?" he asks, trying to think of where--

But the other David gestures with his hand and smiles. "Turn around."

David turns, and there's suddenly a full-length mirror leaning against a bookcase. He walks up to it.

"How's it feel?" the other David asks.

David can just see the other David in the reflection. Identical, of course. He's been the one living in it all this time. David can almost imagine-- Looking at himself like this-- That he's been in it all along, too. That being taken, everything that happened, it was all a dream, a nightmare. It was, literally, nothing more than nightmares. He wishes he could wake up and forget all of it. He wishes--

He hates being alone in here. It feels all wrong.

'Ask them,' his rational mind says, gently urging. 'Tell them what you need. It'll be all right.'

David feels like he can't possibly ask. But he needs it so much.

"Could you," he starts, and turns. "Can we--" He gives Dvd and Divad a needing look. Gestures at himself, their body. "It's wrong, alone--" His rational mind is with him, of course, but--

He was alone in himself for an awful, endless year. Amahl tried to convince him that he had always been alone except for the monster, that the monster was what he needed. But it never felt right, no matter how hard he tried to believe it.

Dvd and Divad both stand, but they look over to the other David. "This okay?" Divad asks.

The other David-- He actually looks-- Stunned? Emotional? David wishes he could feel what he's feeling right now, understand him.

"Yeah, it's okay," the other David says, and steps back, watches.

Dvd and Divad both come up to David. The moment between them is charged, wordless. And then they step into him, Divad and then Dvd.

He's still in control. But he can feel them with him, the three of them together again in their body, the way they always were. Even with their mental shields, he can feel what they're feeling through their body. Heartbreak and healing and most of all, joy. Finally, finally. There's tears in their eyes, their throat tight. It feels like being hugged from the inside, all over. It feels like being found.

They close their eyes and a few hot tears run down their cheeks. They wipe them away, smiling.

'It's really you,' David thinks to them. He knew, rationally, that it was them. But this--

'It's really us,' Divad and Dvd think, warm and happy. 'Welcome home.'

Home, David realizes. He turns back to the mirror and looks at them together. Yes. This is home.

He wants to stay in this moment forever. It's all he needs. Except-- Something's different, something's wrong. What is it?

And then he realizes. He's still in charge of their body. That's what's wrong.

'Divad,' he calls, and tries to push Divad to the front, where he belongs. Divad's supposed to be in charge, and he and Dvd are supposed to share with Divad. But when he tries, Divad resists, pushes him back.

'No,' Divad says, gentle, regretful.

"What do you mean, no?" David asks, aloud, upset. "We're together, we should be together."

'Oh bollocks,' his rational mind sighs. 'Forgot about this bit.'

"David?" the other David asks, worried.

'We're sharing together,' Divad says. 'You're happy, we're all happy.'

David moves their arm, and it's just him moving their arm. He can feel Dvd and Divad with him, but dragged along, not-- With him.

"How is this sharing?" David asks, upset. "You're not doing anything. It's just me."

He tries to push Divad forward again, but Divad won't budge.

'It's complicated,' Divad starts, his happiness erased by frustration, by-- Hurt. He feels hurt, and David feels his hurt. Violation. Regret. It's bewildering.

'Let's talk about this later,' Dvd soothes. 'We can-- Project out again and--'

"No!" David says, upset. "I just got you back, you're not leaving me!" He stares at themselves in the mirror, and they look panicky, tense.

'We're right here,' Dvd soothes. 'No one's leaving.'

"You're doing it wrong," David tells Divad. "You're supposed to be in charge. I'm not supposed to be in charge. Be in charge!"

David tries again to force Divad to be in charge of their body, in charge of him, and Divad just-- Walks out. He walks out. David stares at him, completely shocked.

"Divad?" the other David calls, worried, going over to Divad.

Divad is tense, facing away from all of them. When the other David reaches for him, he flinches away.

"You can't just leave," David says. They have to get Divad back inside.

'Let him go,' Dvd tells him. 'You can't force him to share that way. It's not what he wants.'

"Not what he wants?" David asks, baffled. What does that even mean? "We're supposed to be together and Divad's supposed to be in charge. I can't be in charge and you don't care!"

'Yeah, actually, I do care,' Dvd says.

"No you don't," David insists.

'Yes, I do!' Dvd insists back.

"Can we all just slow down and talk about this calmly?" his rational mind says, pushing forward to say it to everyone.

The other David stares at them. "Is that--"

"Yes, hello again," his rational mind says, giving the other David a wave.

"Oh, now you're in charge?" David tells his rational mind, angry at him for just-- Taking control right now, when he wouldn't before, when David begged him to.

"I'm not--" His rational mind, sighs, slips back. 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I just want us all to talk things out rationally.'

David ignores all of it and focuses on the only thing that matters. He steps towards Divad. "I don't understand," he tells him.

"I know," Divad sighs, and turns to face them. His expression is pained.

"You don't want me," David realizes. He was so upset about the other David not wanting him, Dvd not wanting him. But he never imagined-- No matter how bad things were, Divad always wanted to be in charge, always.

"That's not true," Divad insists.

"Get back in here and say it," David demands. And when Divad refuses--

David was wrong. This isn't his home. This body, this system-- He doesn't belong here anymore. He never will. It's too late. Ten years too late.

He does what Divad did, and walks right out of this body, walks out and leaves it behind. He leaves all of them behind and in a blink he's somewhere else, an office. Amahl is sitting at a desk, books and papers spread out before him, and he looks up, surprised and then-- Happy.

"David, my dear," Amahl says, rising to meet him. "I've missed you." He looks at David, frowns. "What's wrong?"

David can't explain, can't put any of it into words. He can feel his rational mind's frustration, and pushes it away. He needs Amahl. Amahl is all he has left.

"My darling boy," Amahl says, taking David into his arms. "It's all right. Bâbâ is here."

"Bâbâ," David echoes, and clings to Amahl.

Chapter 220: Day 16: We don't have to rush anymore. (Divad)

Chapter Text

"You couldn't play along with him for five seconds?" Dvd says, arms crossed and tone exasperated. "We got him back, he was happy, and you fucked it up."

"You think I don't know that?" Divad says, tightly. Thinking of the other David up there, back with Amahl-- He can't stand it. "It's my fault. I'll go up there, I'll talk to him and--"

"No," David says, certain.

"You think I'm gonna mess it up?" Divad asks, defensive.

"I think he needs some space," the other David says, still calm.

"He doesn't need to be with him," Divad says, disgusted. "I should have erased him already, why are we letting him exist?"

"We're not ready," David says. "You know that."

"We are ready. David's the problem, he'll never be ready," Divad declares. David was brainwashed for a year, he was a wreck for years before that--

"So what, we decide for him?" Dvd asks. "Genius idea. That won't backfire at all."

"We have to do something," Divad says.

"We are," David says. "We're giving him space. When he feels better--"

"How's being with that thing gonna make him better?" Divad asks, half sneering, half desperately asking. "He should be with us! We're his headmates, his system! He belongs with us!"

"Then why'd you run away?" Dvd asks, unimpressed.

Divad tries to answer him but can't. He should have stayed in their body. If he's just stayed there, did what the other David wanted-- Dvd's right. Divad fucked it up again.

"We can't force David to come back to us," David says. "We have to trust him or he won't trust us. I know this is hard but-- It's just like it was with me. Two steps forward, one step back." He softens. "I saw your face when the three of you were together. It felt amazing, right? Like when when we were together."

That slows Divad down. Remembering the three of them sharing their body-- Sharing the rebuilt memory of being with their family, helping Mom bake cherry pie-- They were happy, truly happy. Just like they felt for that brief moment just now.

"All right, you win," Divad relents.

"Great," Dvd says, brightly. "We can use the time to pull the stick out of your ass."

Divad glares at him, but it's half-hearted.

"C'mon, be a good example," Dvd tells him. "We gotta show David how we work now. So stop hating yourself and talk."

"He's not even here," Divad protests.

"So what?" Dvd shrugs.

"Why aren't you upset?" Divad asks. He genuinely has no idea how Dvd isn't as upset as he is right now.

"About what, David being a confused mess who can't share with us?" Dvd asks. "Old news. We can fix it. Right?" The last he says to David.

"Right," David agreed, though with less confidence. "Divad-- It's okay to feel awful right now. Just talk to us."

Divad's done enough talking today. He talked to Ptonomy. He talked to the other David's rational mind. He even talked to the other David, a little. Nothing's made him feel any better, any less like he's going to explode, or break down, or-- Or end the damn world. Not that he could.

"I don't want to go back to-- That," Divad admits, despite himself.

"That?" David asks.

"Being in charge," Divad continues, through gritted teeth. "Of our body, our life, him. That's what he wants. To give up and put it all back on me." He gives a bitter laugh. "You know, when we got you back, that was all I wanted. To take control and stop you from fucking everything up. But I'm the one who--" He cuts off. "And now he wants to drag me back to hell with him."

"We won't let him force you to--" David starts.

"And if I don't?" Divad challenges. "He'll get Amahl to do it for him. The longer we wait-- If they become Joonam again, then what? What if that's the part of us that the world sees first? Forget that damn interview, our life will be over."

That finally gives David pause, as it sinks in just what's at stake here.

"And what's your answer, huh?" Dvd asks. "Stick crowns on them and throw them in the looney bin? You always think the worst, especially when it comes to David."

"And when was I wrong?" Divad asks back.

"All the damn time," Dvd says. "You wanna be in charge of David or not? Sure sounds like you do."

Divad feels an unwanted flush of shame, reminded of what David's rational mind said earlier. He knows Dvd's right, and David's rational mind is right. This isn't how he wants to be. But he doesn't know how to stop. Not without Divad's rational mind helping him. Divad didn't realize how much he was relying on his own rational mind until he lost him.

"I don't want to," Divad says. "But David--" David wants Divad to be in charge of him. He needs it. He can't function. He'll ruin everything if he's in charge. It's how they work.

Every excuse feels hollow.

Before the other David returned-- When they tried to work the way they used to-- This David wouldn't let them. Ptonomy and their whole support system wouldn't let them. Divad had no choice but to change.

And it's better now. Divad doesn't want to go back. But the other David being here-- It drags him back anyway. What would Divad's rational mind say, if he was here?

Stop trying to be the strong one, because you're not. You never were.

"I don't--" Divad starts, forcing out the words. "Know how to-- Be with him and not-- Be who I was with him."

He braces himself for Dvd's anger or mocking. But when he dares to look, all he sees from Dvd is understanding.

"Yeah, it's really fucking hard," Dvd says.

"But you and--" Divad says, gesturing at David.

"Yeah, and I'm over the goddamn moon about it," Dvd says. "Doesn't make being around him any easier." He gestures at the ceiling, in the direction they can feel the other David. And Amahl.

"So how do you not--" Divad asks, hardly believing he's asking for Dvd's help with this, but--

"He doesn't want me," Dvd admits. "Or he does but-- It hurts him too much. And I don't wanna hurt him."

"So what, I should be glad he still wants me to control him?" Divad asks, skeptical.

"Did you talk to him about it?" David asks. "Did you tell David how you feel?"

"I-- A little," Divad admits.

"And what did he say?" David asks.

Divad sighs. "That he wants to take it slow. But that's just what his rational mind told him to say."

"So he didn't mean it?" David asks. "You think, what, his rational mind was controlling him, like you controlled him?"

Divad shrugs.

"Was he like that with you? Our rational mind? Because he wasn't with me," David says.

"No," Divad admits.

"So he's probably not like that with David," David decides. "If David said it, it was because it was what he wanted to say."

"He's the one who wanted me to be in charge again," Divad reminds him. "How's that slow?"

"He doesn't know what's slow for you. He doesn't know who you are now," David says, with an edge of exasperation. "What we told him about the years he missed-- They're just a story to him. Like those first twenty years are a story to me. You know, when you first came back, both of you kept blowing up at me because I didn't know how we worked. But you showed me and I learned. We figured out what works for us now. We need to do it all over again with David. And with Davey, and all the parts of our system."

"Even Amahl?" Dvd asks, wary.

"With whoever he is after we remove Farouk's memories," David says. "And it's not like we figured everything out for the three of us. We have to keep doing the work. There's so much we all have to figure out about-- Who and how we want to be. It's terrifying," he admits, and Divad can see he means it. "But we're not facing it alone."

"Yeah, we're not," Dvd agrees. "Got it, dummy?" He bumps Divad's arm.

"Okay, okay," Divad sighs, finally letting go of his panic. Or at least as much as he can.

"C'mere," Dvd says, and pulls him into a hug again.

It still startles Divad, Dvd's affection. It's not what he expects for the two of them. And then when Dvd lets him go, David hugs Divad, too. Comforts him. Defying expectations again.

It feels like Dvd and David are both so far ahead of him. He's been right there with them this whole time, but he still doesn't understand how it happened, how they did it. How they keep bouncing back and getting better. Maybe he never understood them. He was so obsessed with being right, with being in charge. He only saw what he expected to see. Dvd said he was wrong for always thinking the worst. But with Farouk inside them, the worst was guaranteed.

And now, with Farouk gone?

"When we were in DC," Divad says. "I saw your notebook. Your, uh, recovery plan."

"Yeah," David says, perking up. "Ptonomy gave me some really good ideas. I wanted to show them to David, but--"

"You could show me," Divad offers. "Before, I wasn't-- I'm ready for them now." He hopes.

The offer surprises David, and pleases him. "I'd really like that. Dvd, you in?"

Dvd is already sitting down and grabbing the stack of notebooks. They join him and each takes their own pair, and a pen. The final set, for the other David, is set aside for now.

"Dvd, did you make a recovery plan in your session?" David asks.

"Nah, we just talked," Dvd said. "So what's the plan? You and Ptonomy got it all figured out?"

"I wish," David says. "It's some ideas about-- What we need as a system. Ptonomy said I should lead, but-- We have to figure this stuff out together."

Divad can't help but feel a bit slighted by Ptonomy, but at the same time-- It was probably the right move. David's spent years talking about his feelings, asking for help, trying anything that might help him not be 'sick' anymore. It was fruitless at the time, but now that their minds are their own--

"Let's hear it," Divad says. "Start from the top."

"Right." David braces himself. "First is what we're doing. Talk to each other. Open up about-- How we're feeling, after, well. Everything." He looks at both of them. "I know we've said a lot, but let's just-- Each say how we're feeling now. I'll start." He takes a deep breath, lets it out. Closes his eyes and concentrates. "There's so much going on. One thing after another-- All at the same time." He gives a strained laugh and opens his eyes. "What makes it bearable is-- Having Syd. Having us. I feel like-- We actually have something to fight for. A real life together. I want that."

David looks to Dvd, expectant.

Dvd groans. "Ugh, feelings. Fine." He gathers himself. "This morning I felt pretty shit. Having the other David back-- It's messing with me too. But there's a lot of good stuff. Farouk is fucking dead and I'm gonna be happy about that for the rest of our life. I'm really really fucking happy about me and David-- And I know we're taking it slow, but just getting you back-- That's already enough for me." He gives David a meaningful look, full of love and gratitude. "For the rest-- I know we're gonna get through it. We're gonna figure it out and make it work. We stopped Farouk, we can do anything." He looks proud and determined.

Divad realizes-- This must be what keeps them going. Having something to hope for, someone to love. Reasons to fight. He envies them.

"I feel lost," Divad admits. "Stopping Farouk was the only thing that mattered. That and being in charge of David. Controlling him. Fighting with Dvd. And now--" It's a lot to admit, but he can't hold it back anymore. And this is what they want him to do, it's supposed to help somehow, so he's trying. "All that's gone. And I don't want to go back, but-- I'm ashamed of everything I did. I feel awful and alone and I just want it to stop."

David and Dvd both look at him with understanding, but also-- He can tell they don't know what to say. How to fix this. They've already shown Divad they care about him, he knows they do. But there's still an angry, gaping wound in his chest that refuses to heal.

"I know it's not something we can fix right now," Divad says, not wanting to grind their recovery work to a halt. "I'll write it down and talk to Ptonomy about it. Let's keep going. What's the next thing?"

He quickly writes down what he said, then looks at David, expectant.

"Okay," David accepts. "The next thing-- This is what I wanted to talk to David about. Why Davey exists. Why they had to separate. I checked in with Syd and she said Davey's confused and scared. It's hard to get much out of him. But it seems like-- Whenever his memories end, that's what he thinks is happening. David thought it was ten years ago. Davey thinks-- Twenty, twenty five years? Somewhere in there."

"Shit," Divad sighs. "Does he even know we're us?"

"Maybe?" David says. "Syd's not sure. He seems to recognize Amy as Amy."

"That's true," Divad says. Davey attached to Amy pretty fast despite adult Amy looking nothing like child Amy. But he thinks about bumping into David's rational mind earlier and that confusion. "The three of us look the same, but-- We always recognize-- The piece of our soul that each of us has."

"So Davey recognizes Amy's soul?" Dvd says. "Then he should recognize us."

"Maybe he does, but-- He's afraid," David offers. "It's not just people looking older. He's in a strange place with a lot of strangers. No home, no parents, no-- Pet dog."

"Ugh, King," Dvd says, disgusted. "I really hate that fucking dog."

"Same," Divad says. "Did he mention King?"

"I'll ask," David says, and closes his eyes as he reaches out to Syd again. "Yes. He said he misses him."

"Okay, that narrows it down," Divad says. "If he still wants King, then-- The memories end before King turned on us."

"But after we split into a system," Dvd adds.

"So what's special about those memories?" David asks. "Why reject them? We know why me and David split."

"So Davey's memories hurt David, and vice versa?" Divad says. Thinking all the way back to those early years-- Divad wasn't thrilled to dig them up when they were trying to find a safe memory for David. Even the happy memories felt painful. "We know where the memories end. But where they start-- It's mostly from before the split, right? The original David memories."

"Gotta be," Dvd agrees. "When he was alone with the shit beetle." His lip curls with anger.

"What was it Ptonomy said about, uh, our trauma? Developmental?" David asks. "That's where it started."

"Farouk was our caregiver," Divad recalls. That's what Ptonomy said. "So back then, David had to trust him, accept whatever Farouk gave him, told him."

"But you don't remember any of that?" David asks them.

Dvd shakes his head. "Farouk was the monster by the time we came around."

"The detachment syndrome," Divad says. "His astral self was deformed. It wouldn't have been, at the beginning." Even thinking about what could have happened back then makes Divad feel all kinds of wrong. "Maybe the other David just-- Didn't want to remember that anymore. Farouk turned on us, Joonam fell apart. If the part of David that was-- Most attached to Farouk was Davey--"

"Maybe," David says, considering it. "We'll have to ask David to be sure, but-- It makes sense. David rejected the part of himself that-- Trusted Farouk like a father. Maybe even loved him."

"So why's he sticking to Amahl like glue?" Dvd asks.

"The fake year," David suggests. "But even without that, Farouk was always there. I barely have any actual memories of him, and what I do remember isn't good, but--" He shakes his head. "So if we're right, then what? How do we help Davey?"

"What did Syd do?" Divad asks.

"Syd and Melanie," David corrects. "They showed him around the mansion, told him about how it's a school for mutants like him. Tried to help him feel like he's safe and somewhere he belongs."

"So what, we pretend he's actually baby David, rescued from Farouk?" Dvd asks, skeptical but then-- Actually considering. "Maybe we should."

"He's a telepath, won't he figure out the truth?" Divad says, still skeptical. "We lied to the other David and it blew up in our faces."

"Okay, then we don't lie lie," Dvd says. "We play along, keep him happy."

"That's exactly what we did with the other David," Divad says, exasperated.

"What, and you think it's a good idea to tell him he's in the future and his parents are dead and oh yeah, King was the monster?" Dvd says, challenging. "That went so great the first time. And if he was all father-son with Farouk, now we gotta tell him Farouk's dead, too."

They all consider the problem.

"We shouldn't hide anything from Davey," David decides. "But we need to wait until he's ready. When he starts asking questions we'll tell him the truth. In the meantime-- I think Melanie's right. Davey's a mutant kid, and this is a school for mutant kids. It makes sense for-- We should have been-- Charles should have--" He pauses, angry. "This should have been our home. At least we can give it to Davey."

"I thought you hate it here," Divad says, surprised.

"It's not so bad without his face everywhere," David admits, gesturing at the empty space on the wall where Charles' portrait had been. "I'm still really pissed at Charles. But he left. He abandoned this place and everyone here. So I guess, I dunno, we should stick together."

"It's better than D3, that's for sure," Dvd says.

"Better than Clockworks," Divad adds, with feeling. They went through so many awful things for so long-- The idea of giving Davey the life they should have had-- Or at least something like it-- Just thinking about it actually helps Divad feel-- Hopeful.

A second chance. They can't undo what happened, and even Davey has his scars, but-- They can finally make a life for themselves, a real life. That does feel like something to fight for.

They open their system notebooks and write down their decision.

"Okay, what's next?" Divad asks.

"System work," David says. "Helping each other heal. Figuring out what works for us. Everything the three of us did before, but for all of us. I know it'll take time, but I want Davey and David to know they belong."

Divad thinks back over the past weeks, and what helped David accept their system. "You know, we never finished putting together our rocket lamp."

"Oh yeah," Dvd says, realizing. "Where is it?"

David closes his eyes, concentrates, and then-- There's a box on the table. David opens it and inside are the parts of the lamp. He reaches in.

Just watching him, Divad can see how powerful that lamp still is for David. David holds the blue lampshade reverently, touches the stars. It's not dented and crooked anymore, but looks brand-new, with a fresh coat of paint. David hands the shade to Dvd and then reaches in again. He pulls out the rocket base and turns it. The three of them painted it together, made it not just what it was when they were children, but what they want it to be now.

"Do you want to put it together now?" Divad asks.

David hesitates, tempted, but shakes his head. He hands Divad the base.

Divad looks at the the details David painted on with his surprising art skills. Not a gift, nothing from Farouk could ever be a gift, but-- Farouk took so unspeakably much from all of them. To wind up with the ability to paint, to make something beautiful-- Divad is jealous of that.

David takes out the rest, the various metal parts and wires and a fresh bulb still in its package. He puts the empty box on the floor, and Dvd and Divad put the shade and base on the table too, so it's all laid out together. David stares at it, visibly thinking.

"Do you think it'll help them?" David asks, unsure. "I mean, we changed it, maybe--"

"You always loved that lamp," Dvd says.

"We all did," Divad says. He thinks of his fight with Dvd in their inner world. He was so mad at Dvd for breaking the lamp there. For shattering something that meant-- Safety. Comfort. Escape. Their dream of one day flying away from everything that hurt them. Davey and the other David need those things just as much as the rest of them, maybe more. "It'll help them."

David gives him a grateful look, and Divad sees that-- As strong as David is, he still needs Divad. Or maybe not needs him, but-- Loves him. Trusts him. Wants them all to be together. David said it earlier, but that grateful look feels more real than words.

"We'll add this to our recovery plan," Divad says. "We can do what we did for you. Find things from our past that connect us. But you forgot our past. Davey and the other David-- They're disconnected from our present. It's more like time travel. We lost a year, David ten, Davey twenty-plus."

"Fuck time travel," Dvd groans.

"A year wasn't so bad," David says. Then he reconsiders. "It did mess things up with Syd. Summerland was gone. And no one trusted us, they thought we were lying."

"Ten years was shit for the other David," Dvd says. "Even without the fake year. You know how he feels. We all moved on without him."

"It's isolating," Divad agrees. "All that lost time. Not being-- Synced up anymore. Especially for a headmate." He looks to David. "Losing you for all those years-- Not being able to-- Connect--" Divad feels his own isolation more sharply. "I want us to share more." He holds up a hand, anticipating Dvd's reaction. "I know, I know. But we used to share our thoughts."

"We shared David's thoughts," Dvd says.

"We still shared how we felt, through our body," Divad says. "Staying projected all the time-- With our mental shields up-- It's hard to feel like a system, to heal our system, when we're so far apart."

"Yeah," David sighs. He frowns, unhappy. "You're right, I just--"

"I know sharing is hard for you," Divad says.

David gives a dry laugh. "You know how much work it took for me to share with you two, before. To be in our body together without--" He swallows. "I wish this was easier for me. But what happened with Joonam and Farouk-- It feels like I have to start all over again."

Divad vividly remembers that violation himself. A double violation, Amahl inside them, Farouk forcing his way back in--

"We can still share our thoughts," Divad says.

"We can," David admits.

"But?" Divad prompts.

"I had the whole world prying into my head," David says. "And I still have to go out there and tell everyone what happened. I'm tired of being violated, of having no control over my mind, my body, anything."

"Sharing thoughts with us is violating?" Dvd asks, upset.

"Having no choice, yes," David admits. "Until a couple of months ago, I didn't even realize I can read minds. I thought it was just schizophrenia, that I was crazy. I know now that it's not, but-- I still feel like I'm crazy. All of this is crazy, sitting here outside my own body, reading people's thoughts, having conversations with other parts of myself." He cuts off, distraught. "You know why I wanted him back most? To just be one David? Because this was his life. Being a mutant, being a system. Even Farouk. It was all completely normal to him and he never thought he was insane. People thought he was crazy but he knew he wasn't. He knew."

"Okay," Divad soothes, worried. David can seem so together, so healed and calm, and then-- One little thing and he falls apart.

"I'm trying," David continues, with feeling. "I'm trying with everything I have to put us back together. But I can't--"

"It's okay," Divad soothes again. "I'm sorry. We don't have to all share, you don't have to do anything."

"Yeah, it's okay," Dvd soothes, too. He shares a worried glance with Divad.

Divad feels ashamed at how much better he feels, seeing David upset. Not that he wants David to suffer. But it's familiar, and he needs all the familiar he can get. Just like the rest of his system.

"You don't have to push yourself until you break," Divad says. "And you don't have to be the one to fix us. I know what Ptonomy said about you leading. You're better at this therapy stuff than the rest of us. But it's one step at a time, right? And a step back when we need it, or a whole staircase. If one person could handle all our shit we wouldn't be six different people, right?"

David slumps. "Right."

"You're not giving that interview alone," Divad tells him. "It's the three of us, together."

"And Davey, maybe," David says.

"No," Divad says. "If we're trying to give him the life we should've had, we're not putting him through that. He's gonna be a normal mutant kid, not a sideshow."

"Emma's not gonna like that," Dvd says.

"It's not up to her," Divad says, certain. "We're in control of our life, not her or anyone else. This interview? We're agreeing to do this on our terms because it's important. But no one owns us." He holds up the lamp rocket. "Our lamp, right? No one else's."

David stares at the rocket, and Divad can see how it gives him strength. "Our lamp," he agrees.

Divad hands him the rocket, and David holds it, calms.

"Look," Divad says, thinking aloud. "All the work we did in D3, figuring ourselves out, finding ways to heal-- We still have all of that. The foundation work, the lamp, everything. Farouk did his worst and he still couldn't take it away. And if he can't, no one can." He looks at David. "You're not crazy. The other David doesn't need Amahl. And I don't need to be an insecure idiot."

"I'm perfect," Dvd says, smugly.

Divad glares at Dvd, but David laughs. The worst seems to have passed. But he's not quite back to where he was.

"We'll get there," Divad assures him. "All the wrong ideas in our heads, those parasites? We'll chase 'em out."

David looks at him, soft with gratitude. Divad thinks of what David said earlier, about the trust and gratitude he feels towards Divad. The words were important, but-- Seeing the truth in David's eyes--

David really does love him. Appreciates him for being there for him for the past weeks, for all of that. And not just Divad's rational mind, but Divad himself.

Divad belatedly realizes he's been trapped in a shame attack all day. The only treatment for shame is love, he knows that. All the pulling away he's been doing, he's only been hurting himself, his system. Being forced back together with them, letting them in-- That finally got him free. At least for now.

"So we've got some things for our recovery," Divad says, grabbing his pen again. "I need to work on-- Accepting help. David needs to work on his possession trauma."

"Yeah," David grimaces. Dvd puts a hand on his arm, reassuring.

"You're right, though. We're a system, we should share," Dvd says. "Not everything all at once. And not like before. But it's good for us. Maybe we'll end up like the Karies."

"Which version of them?" Divad asks, feeling a pang of regret. Cary and Kerry are stuck sharing one body now because of them, because of Joonam. They can't undo what they did, but-- "Do you think they'll ever forgive us?"

"You miss them too, huh?" Dvd says.

Divad nods. He misses being with Cary, working side by side. He misses their friendship. It's something else he's been neglecting, caught up in his own pain.

"They probably will," David says, though he isn't thrilled about it. "I want to reach out too, I just--"

"Yeah," Divad sighs. "I kinda wish they'd just hate us and tell us to never speak to them again."

"Well, I don't!" Dvd says.

"We need to give them time," David says.

"Eh, they had plenty of time while we were out cold," Dvd says. "We're gonna patch things up. Put it on the list."

Divad wants to protest, but can't come up with a good argument. He adds it.

"And we're gonna figure out ways to share," Dvd continues. "Add that too. We're a system, we're not gonna pretend we're a bunch of separate people. All the pieces of the lamp fit together, right? So we figure out how to put the pieces back together for our healthy new system lamp."

David looks at the lamp pieces longingly.

"Baby steps," Divad encourages. "As we're ready. We don't have to rush anymore, right?"

"Right," David says, visibly gathering his courage. "You're right. I want us to be able to share. I want that back."

"We'll get it back," Dvd tells him, certain.

When Dvd and David exchange a loving look, Divad still feels jealous. But not as much as before. He looks at the new list again, and it feels good. Cary was always urging him to think about the future-- Mostly about the New Summerland or Division 4 or whatever they were going to call it. The future of mutantkind. But maybe that's what they need, what Divad needs right now, to heal. A goal.

"We need a goal," Divad says. "We had one before. We had to heal our system enough to work together to stop Farouk. We need a new goal for-- What we want our life to be. Even if we can't figure out the details yet. We need-- I need something to aim for."

David and Dvd both lean back in their chairs, frowning with thought.

"We gotta survive," Dvd decides. "That's always been rule number one. That's the only reason I agreed to that stupid interview. Helping Davey and David, getting rid of Farouk's memories, all that's survival."

"I don't want to just survive," David says. "Just staying alive-- That was what put us in Clockworks. All I ever wanted for so long was just-- For everything to stop. To be somewhere quiet and green. I didn't think I deserved anything more. But I wanted-- Love, a family, somewhere to belong. To give back, to do something good. To make the world better somehow."

"We already saved the world," Dvd says.

"It doesn't feel like enough," David says, unhappy. "I just feel like-- All I did was take and take for so long--"

"We didn't take enough!" Dvd defends. "The world owes us for what we suffered. Charles, all his cronies, they owe us."

"They didn't even know we existed," Divad counters. "It took decades to get the help we needed. That's on Charles and Farouk. Not any of the people who are actually helping us right now." He turns to David. "And it's not our fault that we needed help. You know that. So we don't have to do some-- Grand gesture to make up for it. I don't want us to be trapped in the past. We have to let all that go, build something new."

"So what's your big idea?" Dvd challenges.

"I don't know yet," Divad admits. "There's so much we have now that we couldn't have even imagined having just months ago. Safety, love, belonging-- They can't be our goals anymore because we have them."

"It still feels so fragile," David says.

"It does," Divad agrees. "I'm not saying it's all fixed. But it's like Lenny told us, we have to think bigger than just therapy work."

"Lenny," David says, voice soft and sad.

"We gotta patch things up with Lenny, too," Dvd decides. He prods David. "C'mon, write it down."

David sighs and adds it to his list. Dvd and Divad do the same.

"What about all that wish list stuff?" Dvd asks. "That's what it was for, right?"

"Good question," Divad says. He switches to his personal notebook and flips to the last version of his foundation work. It doesn't feel so painful to look at it now, without all that shame in the way. The foundation, the mantras, the relationship help, the wish list and therapy list and to-do list, and everything in their system foundation, too-- They put an enormous amount of work into building all of it. Good, healthy ideas to replace the bad ones. And the ideas kept evolving, kept changing.

Looking at his own wish list now-- It feels like it needs to change again.

"I think I can cross out a lot of this," Divad says. "Farouk is gone. With our new powers, I feel like I can just be myself. I know I'm part of the world. As for college-- I don't know. I think I still want that." He copies over what he wants to keep.

I want to work with Cary. I want to go back to college as myself. I want a degree with Divad Haller on it.

"I want a challenge," Divad says, thinking. "Getting my degree is a start. But there's so much more out there. Understanding mutant powers, figuring out what can help other mutants. Or my powers over our body. We couldn't save Mom. But if I can share what I know-- I feel like there's so much I could do."

"And he says we don't need grand gestures," Dvd says to David, pointing his thumb at Divad.

"Mom wasn't our fault," Divad accepts. "I'm not trying to fix that. It's not wrong to give back, just-- For the right reasons."

He adds to his new wishlist. Understand mutant powers. Help other mutants. Share my knowledge of the human body. Help everyone.

It's an ambitious list. He doesn't expect to cure all illness, or figure out everything about mutants. But it feels good to have something to strive for, something that's totally separate from their own healing. Something for himself.

"My turn?" David guesses, and flips to his other notebook. He stares at his wish list and lets out a long breath. "I guess-- Yeah. Okay." He gathers himself and crosses out several items. Marks them as done. "What do I want now?" he asks under his breath. He taps his pen against the paper, mulling.

"No therapy things," Dvd reminds him.

"I know," David sighs. He thinks more, but nothing comes. "It's hard. You had college," he tells Divad. "Your powers are amazing. I'm just--"

"Just what, the most powerful mutant ever?" Dvd says, amused. "After me, I mean."

"He's got a point," Divad says. "I know you're still getting used to having powers. But there's not a lot you can't do with them."

"I know," David says. "And I can hear what everyone thinks about me when I use them. They're either afraid or they want to control me or both."

"Fuck telepathy," Dvd sighs. "We shouldn't care what they think about us."

"What's something you want that has nothing to do with your powers?" Divad asks. "If you were just the normal human you thought you were. What would you do?"

"I dunno," David says. "Farouk didn't give me the chance to want things."

"What's left on your list?" Divad asks, and David shows him. Lenny's chocolate bar. New clothes. A tropical vacation.

Those were Lenny's ideas, not David's. They were meant to get him started. The crossed-out wishes were therapy wishes about healing. But it makes sense. David's put everything he has into healing for so long. It's been his entire life, aside from his spirals into self-destruction. But he needs to break out of that pattern.

"Cross those out too," Divad tells him. "They're Lenny's ideas. I think you need to start fresh."

"I mean, a tropical vacation would be great," David says.

"Everyone loves a vacation," Divad says. "But that's not what this is for. It's to help us-- Imagine. Dream." He turns to Dvd. "What's on yours?"

"Yeah, yeah," Dvd says, and finds his wish list. He considers each item, and crosses off three. "Here." He shows them the list.

Travel the world. Meet people to find new ways to be. Come back home and be with my system. Try everything. Be anything we want to be.

"That's actually really good," David says, impressed.

It's not quite what Divad had in mind, but-- Of the three of them, Divad was the only one who had the chance to actually live his own life. Going out and just trying everything-- Maybe David and Dvd both need to do that before they can find their next wishes.

"Then copy it," Divad says.

"But you just said to get rid of Lenny's ideas," David says.

"Yeah, cause this is better," Dvd says, and holds his notebook in front of David. "We'll do it together, it'll be fun."

That finally convinces David, and he dutifully copies over Dvd's wishes. But when he finishes-- "This is good. But I think it's wrong."

"Wrong?" Divad asks.

"For our goal as a system," David says. "We need both, right? Individual goals and system goals."

"True," Divad admits. He was so excited about his own goals--

"We didn't learn to work together just to stop Farouk," David continues. "I mean it helped, but-- This is our life. We can astral project, but we share one soul and one body. We're all parts of a single whole. Realizing that, understanding it-- That's what a lot of our therapy's been about for me. And Davey and the other David, they need that too. We can't put the lamp back together if some of the parts just leave."

Divad feels hoist by his own metaphor. "I don't want to leave," he insists. "But for me and Dvd, all we've had is our system. And for the last ten years we barely had that. We were in Clockworks, too. We were trapped with you for every awful moment of those years. I don't want to go back to that, or to before college, or any of it. I don't want to be that person anymore."

"We'll balance it out," Dvd says, intervening. "Nobody's leaving and nobody's going back. This wish shit's long term. Right now half our system's a giant mess and we have that fucking interview coming at us. And the recovery plan. That comes first or we can't do the rest."

"I'm sorry, you're right," Divad says. He was starting to panic again, the shame attack creeping back, and he doesn't want that. He looks down at his notebook, mainly to avoid looking at David and Dvd, and sees his foundation, his mantra. He hasn't thought about those words for a while, hasn't let himself. Punishing himself, he supposes. That's what their system does best. But just looking at the words--

His notebook is full of foundation work, copied and changed over and over. They haven't done it since Farouk's death. They've been reeling, trying to find their feet again. But now that they have--

"We changed our foundation work," Divad says. "We should copy it all out again, the new version. Right?"

At the suggestion, David softens. "Yeah. We should."

"Both notebooks," Divad says.

"Both," David agrees.

"Yeah, yeah," Dvd grumbles, but he sits back with his notebooks, too.

Divad takes his time copying over the foundation work, feeling the weight of each line. Some of it stays the same, as the hard-earned knowledge in it still feels true and useful. The new wish list still gives him hope that he desperately needs. And then there's the therapy list, and the to-do list. They're newer, less refined, and the to-do list is somewhat sprawling. He cleans them up, gets rid of the to-do items about their birth parents, removes the items about their foundation and mantra. He knows they'll keep changing but he does feel they're his own.

To his To-Do list, he adds: Forgive David. Forgive myself. He's been trying to forgive for a while now, but he still needs to write it down. It's hard to let go of decades of pain.

He copies over the system foundation work next. Both foundations have grown so much. They started out so small, just David clinging to Cary's words to keep himself alive. Now Divad can trace their system's recovery through them. It truly does feel like they've built something they can rely on, a solid foundation for their future. Ideas about who they are and what they need, about how to have healthy relationships, what they need to heal, and so many goals and wishes and to-dos.

He feels his shame attack recede further. Dvd was right. If they can do all this, they're going to be okay.

Chapter 221: Day 16: A school for mutant children like you. (Davey)

Chapter Text

When Davey wakes up from his nap, he's not home. Dvd and Divad aren't with him, or King. He's still in this strange place with so many strangers. But Matilda is still soft and warm in his arms. He can feel Melanie's mind even before he opens his eyes. There's worry there for him, like before, but also she feels calm and determined. She believes everything will be all right.

That doesn't make any sense to Davey. But it feels nice anyway.

Davey carries Matilda downstairs, and they find Syd. Syd's found a cat leash, but when they put it on Matilda, Matilda just falls over on her side and refuses to move. Davey pets her and tries to tell her that the leash is okay, King likes his leash just fine, but she just gives them a cranky meow and stays limp.

Everyone's gathering for the trip out, and Davey doesn't want to leave her behind. They remove the leash, give Matilda a cat treat to apologize, and then get her into the carrier. Davey carries it at first, but it's heavy so the adults end up taking turns.

Most everyone comes with them. There's Kitty and Lockheed and Buster, of course, and Syd and Melanie, but also old Amy, Kerry and Cary, a bunch of other adults, and one of the weird robots. The robot makes Davey feel like he's living in one of the science fiction stories his dad likes to read to him, but it's weird how it doesn't feel like anything.

The adults chat and mingle as they make the walk to the park. Kerry and Cary leave because Kerry wants to run and everyone's walking too slow. Davey can feel that Cary doesn't like being near Davey, but Davey doesn't know why. He stays close to Amy and Matilda at first, but then Kitty and Buster pull him away.

The three of them walk together, and Lockheed flies overhead, swooping through the air and scaring the birds. Lockheed disappears into the trees, and when it comes back again, Davey's pretty sure it ate one of the birds. It doesn't seem fair that Lockheed doesn't have to have a leash or carrier but Matilda does. When Davey asks Kitty about it, she just scoffs, as if leashing Lockheed is a ridiculous idea.

Davey guesses Lockheed is like a hawk. He's seen hawks catching other birds in the woods, felt the birds being scared and the hawks happy. But the whole world is like that. The birds are happy when they eat bugs, and that scares the bugs. Plants don't feel the same as animals or people, but they're a kind of happy when it rains or when the sun is warm, and a kind of sad when things hurt them, too. Most of the time it all just blurs together, except if he concentrates. People are loud, though. He feels them no matter what, even when he does what the book says and pushes their thoughts away.

He can feel how much Matila wants to get out. Davey considers letting her out of her cage, but he knows she'd just run away. She won't come back and land on his shoulder like Lockheed lands on Kitty's shoulder. Matilda wants to go home, like him. But they don't know the way.

Then they reach the park, and for a while Davey forgets about home. There's a pond with ducks and geese and even a pair of swans. There's a grassy hill that they can race up and then roll down. There's an older boy flying a kite who lets them each take a turn with it, and the kite looks like a dragon, too. Lockheed growls at it and almost attacks it, so they have to stop, and the older boy leaves for someplace safer for his kite.

It's the best time Davey's had in ages. But more than once he feels the same panic as before, and freezes up, his heart pounding. He waits for the monsters to come, he knows they'll come, they always come. Maybe the Angry Boy will come out of the shadows and--

But the park is calm. Everyone is calm and relaxed, enjoying the fresh air. It's not the same as having Dvd and Divad with him, but feeling their calm helps. Their happiness. Especially Melanie's. She's not a telepath but it's like she knows he can feel how she feels. Like Mom and Dad.

He misses them. He hopes Mom's okay. When she's worried it makes her lungs worse and it scares him. He wants to go home. He doesn't understand why he's here.

Before he can get too upset, Melanie says it's time for lunch. They leave the park and take a short walk into town. There's a few square blocks of streets full of little shops, a small grocery, some restaurants. It reminds Davey of the town near his own house, just outside the dark sky area around the big telescope. It makes his homesickness better and worse at the same time.

They get sandwiches and drinks. Some of the adults go off to shop. Even though it just ate a bird, they give Lockheed a big piece of raw fish. They put a small paper plate with shredded tuna into Matilda's cat carrier, and she eats it up greedily. Davey finishes his food and nods off, leaning against Melanie, soaking up her calm, warm thoughts.

Safe, she's telling him, showing him. You're safe, everything's okay.

He's not sure if he should believe her, but he does anyway.

Davey's still groggy on the walk back. The adults are quieter, tired from the walk and shopping but also carrying bags they're happy to have. Matilda is dozing in her carrier, swaying gently in Syd's arms. Lockheed is curled around Kitty's shoulders, half-watching the birds and squirrels.

He can feel them as they approach the mansion: the old Dvd and Divad, and the other-Davids, and not-Baba. They're all here again. He hasn't wanted to think about any of that, what it means, it was all just too much. But now that things feel calmer, he's starting to wonder. But wondering makes him nervous. As they walk back into mansion, he pushes it all away again.

The adults break off, each going back to their rooms to unpack their bags and rest. That leaves Davey with Kitty and Lockheed, Buster, Syd and Matilda, and Melanie.

"I think Matilda's had enough adventuring for today," Syd says. "Want to help me get her settled back in my room?"

Davey nods.

"We'll meet up later," Buster says. "You know where my room is?"

"I'll bring him over," Melanie says.

Davey and Melanie follow Syd upstairs, and they bring the carrier back into Syd's room. As soon as the carrier opens, Matilda shoots out like a furry rocket and dives under the bed, her fur all puffed out even though she wasn't upset before.

"It's okay," Davey soothes, hoping it's true.

Matilda gives an unhappy meowl.

"We should let her rest," Melanie says.

"But she's upset," Davey says, worried. Maybe it's his fault for wanting her to come with them to the park. She didn't want to come and he made her. She didn't want to be on the leash, she just lay down flat and wouldn't budge. She didn't want to be trapped in a cage.

"She's just tired," Melanie soothes.

"Matilda will be fine," Syd says. "She's a therapy cat."

"No," Davey says, annoyed. They're wrong but they don't know, they can't feel how Matilda feels. But Davey can. He crawls under the bed, approaching slowly so he doesn't upset Matilda more. Her ears go back and flat, but then flick forward again. He holds out his hand and after a long pause, Matilda sniffs it, accepting.

"It's okay," Davey soothes, petting her gently. She's so soft, and she's not very big under all that fluff. He shuffles forward and puts his arms around her, his cheek against her side, and she starts purring loudly, soothing herself and him, too.

You're safe, it's okay, he thinks to her, just a whisper. He wants her to be safe. He could feel that she liked the park, she liked being outside with all the new smells and sounds, she liked the tuna a lot. But it was just so much and she was trapped the whole time. She didn't like being trapped.

They rest together for a while. Melanie steps out, and Syd stays, and then Melanie returns. Lying in the dim space under the bed, Davey concentrates on Matilda and tries to ignore how close old Dvd and Divad, the other-Davids, and not-Baba all feel. He can't really make out much from them, like how he can't hear Dvd and Divad's thoughts unless they let him. He could reach out to them, but-- He listens to Matilda's purrs instead.

When Matilda's calm enough, Davey scoops her up and wriggles back out. He gives Matilda to Syd. "You have to hold her for a while. Okay? It's what she wants."

"Of course," Syd says, but she's surprised.

Matilda is happy to be back on Syd's lap. She purrs more and kneads at Syd's legs, and Syd winces but endures.

"How about we go visit Buster?" Melanie says, offering her hand to Davey. Along with her calm warmth, he can feel some excitement, anticipation. She isn't thinking about whatever it is directly, though, so he's not sure what she's planning. Davey realizes she's kinda sneaky. She must be used to being around telepaths, if she helps a lot of mutants.

"Do you remember what I told you earlier, about this being a school for mutant children like you?" Melanie asks. "I know you don't want your own room, but how would you like it if you shared with Buster?"

"With Buster?" Davey asks, unsure. "But he's not a mutant."

"He's not," Melanie agrees. "But it's not safe for him to be home right now. So he's staying here for a while, just like you. He could use some company. I know he's worried about his dads."

They reach Buster's room, and Davey can feel that Buster is happy to see them again. Like the rooms Davey saw earlier, it's set up with two beds, two dressers, two desks. The large, curtained window is open to the backyard. He doesn't like it as much as his own bedroom, but it's nice.

"You're gonna be my roomie, huh?" Buster says. "That's awesome. Did you see all the cool stuff this place has? We're gonna have so much fun."

Davey can feel how genuinely happy Buster is. Davey's still not sure about staying in this place at all, much less having a room here. He doesn't know what he's supposed to do to make all this stop, so he can go home, so Dvd and Divad and King will come back. Divad would know what to do, if he was here. Dvd would know what's safe and what's not.

"Yeah," Davey says, agreeing anyway. He likes Buster. He likes Matilda and Melanie and Kitty and Lockheed, and Syd is okay. It doesn't feel like the wrong choice to stay with them for a while.

"I know you didn't bring anything from home, but there's pajamas and clean clothes in the dresser, and toiletries over there. Your desk has supplies and also some wonderful books that our students use to start learning about their mutant powers. You can use the common rooms whenever you like, and the kitchen. And if there's anything else you need, just ask."

There's a lot Davey wants to ask, but he just nods.

"Would you like me to stay and keep you company?" Melanie asks.

Davey looks around the room again. Buster doesn't have many things of his own either. But Buster seems happy here. Davey wants to be happy here, too, if he can.

Davey shakes his head. He feels suddenly tired, despite his nap during lunch. Everything's been so much. If he has his own bed here, he wants to rest.

Even though she's not a mutant, Melanie seems to read his mind. "How about you rest for a bit, and I'll come check on you later? Bring Matilda over?"

Davey nods again. Melanie gives Davey a hug and then gives Buster one, too, and leaves.

Davey walks around the room, looks in the drawers at the supplies and clothes. The clothes aren't brand new, but they look nice. He looks at the bed. There are clean sheets and colorful blankets that looks handmade. Davey's been in motel rooms and hospital rooms, and this doesn't feel like either of those.

Maybe if he goes to sleep again, when he wakes up, he'll be home. He lies down in his new bed, stares at his new ceiling. From across the room, he can feel Buster's calm. Davey clings to that calm as he tries to feel calm, too.

He must have done something awful for everyone to be gone. It must be his fault. But he doesn't know what he did. If he has to stay here, and sleep here tonight-- If this doesn't end--

He always has nightmares. They'll hurt so much without Dvd and Divad and King to comfort him. Without Amy in the next room. Without Baba to forgive him. Without Mom to hold him, and Dad to tell him stories about the big telescope, about the stars. He doesn't even have his rocket lamp.

His chin starts to tremble, and he curls onto his side, facing the wall, and tries to not cry. He tries.

"Davey?" Buster calls, his calm turning into worry.

Davey doesn't answer. He can't, with the big lump in his throat. He doesn't want Buster to know he's upset and get upset too, like Amy does. But he can't make the big lump go away.

"Did something happen? Are you hurt?" Buster asks, and then thinks, 'He seemed okay when they came in. If he's not hurt, then-- Maybe--'

Buster gets off his bed and walks over. "Hey, it's okay. The first night I was here, I was upset, too." He pauses, thinking. "It's okay to cry when you're sad. Do you want a tissue?" He walks away and then comes back with a tissue box, and holds it out.

Davey bursts into tears. The big lump forces its way out as big, painful sobs. He feels as bad as he does after the monsters come, maybe even worse because everyone's gone, he doesn't understand and he's scared and he wants to go home. But he can't hear Mom or Dad anywhere, and the only Amy he can find is the old Amy here. Even Baba is gone. How can Baba be gone?

"Oh, hey," Buster says, and through his own upset Davey can feel a spike of panic from Buster. But the spike fades. Buster reaches out, puts his hand on Davey's arm. "Do you want a hug?"

Davey nods through his sobs. He turns and pushes himself up, and Buster hugs him.

It feels like he'll cry forever. But after a little while he's all worn out. Buster lets him go and hands him the tissue box again. Davey wipes his eyes and blows his nose.

"Here," Buster says. He takes one of the handmade blankets and wraps it around Davey. Then he sits next to him on the bed. "One of my dads got hurt last year. It was really bad. I helped him get better. When something bad happens, it's really important to focus on getting better. You can't fix everything but you can fix a lot."

Davey can feel how proud Buster is about all that. Helping his dad and also about the words. They mean a lot to him.

"I used to move a lot," Buster continues. "I'm adopted now. But I used to be in foster care. You know what that is?"

Davey shakes his head.

"It's when your parents give you away and nobody wants to adopt you," Buster says, and he's sad about it but it feels like an old sad. "Fosters are people who let me stay with them for a while. Some of them were okay. Sometimes I'd run away, and then they'd give me to someone else." Another wave of old hurt. "Being in a new place is scary. And new people. But I have new parents now and they love me a lot. Even though I'm kinda mad at them right now."

Davey tries to understand all that. "What happened to your parents?" He can't imagine his parents giving him away.

"My birth parents?" Buster says. "I was just a baby, but-- My dad left and my mom was sick. She couldn't take care of me."

"My mom's sick, too," Davey says. Maybe that means-- Is that why he's here? "Is this foster care?"

"Nah," Buster says, then thinks about it. "Well, maybe. For mutant kids. Kitty said there's usually a lot of kids here and most of them lost their families. But they just got their families back and that's why they're not here."

"Oh," Davey says, realizing.

"But this is a lot nicer than the fosters I had," Buster assures him. "And the other kids are gonna come back soon because it's school so they have to come back. At least that's what Kitty says. I hope so because I wanna see what everyone's powers are. I've been reading about mutant powers, they're amazing. What can you do?"

Davey hesitates. He's still not used to it being safe to talk about his powers at all, much less show them. Not even with Amy and he always felt bad about that. If anyone found out, the bad people out there who look for mutants might find him and take him away. Is it really safe now?

Buster hops off the bed and grabs the book he was reading, and brings it over. He sits next to Davey again and opens the book. "Here, look. There's all sorts of powers. You could fly, or make ice, or you could have a tail or be a genius. Some mutants get their powers right away but most of the time they show up when you get older."

Davey looks at the pages as Buster flips through them. He recognizes a lot of the powers as things he can do, but still isn't sure he should say anything. But then they get to the section on mental powers and something surprises him.

"I know that," Davey says, pointing at a drawing showing waves of thoughts from different people and a man at the center.

"You're a telepath?" Buster asks, excited.

"The picture," Davey says, avoiding the question. "I have a book about powers, too. That's in the book."

"This book?" Buster asks. He closes it and shows Davey the cover. An Introduction To Mutant Powers, Fifth Edition.

Davey shakes his head. "Mine's smaller. And the cover's just white. But it has the same picture."

Buster finds the picture again, and Davey look at it. His book is a secret, just like his powers. Dad keeps it in his desk in a locked drawer. Davey figured out how to open the drawer with his powers and read the book on his own while Dad's at work and Mom and Amy are busy. But when Dad takes him stargazing, they use the book to help Davey practice his powers. Those are Davey's favorite nights.

"Maybe the same people made both books?" Buster suggests. He looks at the cover again. "It doesn't have an author. Maybe Melanie knows, or Hank. I dunno what his power is. Maybe it's being furry and blue." He laughs. "Maybe you're gonna turn furry and blue."

"What?" Davey says, alarmed. "I don't wanna be blue!"

"It's not up to you, it's up to your genes," Buster declares. "If you don't have your powers yet, they could be anything."

"I'm not gonna turn blue," Davey insists. He already has his powers, lots of them. Maybe too many. Mom and Dad are always worrying about them.

Davey realizes-- Maybe it would be nice to be with other mutants for a while. To have a whole school for mutants like him. It's hard to always hide.

"You can have this one if you want," Buster says, offering the book. "I can get another one later. There's a bunch of books in the library, and there's some in the common rooms, too. You wanna play some video games? There's a ton of games."

"What's a video game?" Davey asks.

Buster's personally offended by the question. "You don't know what a video game is? Where've you been, under a rock?"

Davey just shrugs.

Buster almost drags Davey to the nearest common room. Davey just manages to bring the powers book with him. He doesn't want to let it go. Buster starts setting things up by the TV, and Davey looks around the room. He was here this morning with Melanie. He picks up a stray ping pong ball from the floor and puts it on a shelf. He looks at the books. There's books about mutant powers, but also about regular school stuff, and novels, and even some picture books. He looks for David and the Purple Crayon, before remembering that's not the real title. What was it again?

"Ready," Buster calls.

Davey goes over to him. Buster explains how the video games show up on the TV, and they use their controllers to play them. Buster teaches him how to use the controller, and soon Davey is caught up in the game, and the bright colors and sounds. It's amazing, and he wonders if a mutant invented it.

A soft meow finally pulls him back, and he turns to find Matilda. She sniffs him and then rubs against him, then rubs against Buster. Davey and Buster abandon the game to pet Matilda for a while, until she's had enough. Then she walks over to a sunbeam and plops down and starts grooming herself and purring.

Matilda seems happier now. He can feel that she's decided that since this is where she is now, she's claiming the place as her own. Like Buster. He thinks about all the adults on the walk today, bringing their shopping back. They're settling in here, too, at least for a while.

Davey looks down at his new book and thinks about the telepathy drawing. Then Buster hands him his controller and they get back to their game.

Chapter 222: Day 16: I have to learn how to cook. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

Cary never stops thinking, and Kerry hates it.

It's been a while since she was stuck like this. Trapped as a passenger while Cary does everything himself. She's not actually stuck, she can take charge whenever she wants, but every time she tries to do something she wants to do, Cary tells her it has to wait. It always has to wait because there's something more important to do, people who need help or information that needs studying, and Cary has to be the one to do it.

She didn't used to mind before, when she was the inside one. It was kinda soothing, watching Cary do all those complicated things she still barely understands. She couldn't hear his thoughts, but he would say them aloud anyway. He would teach her things, or they would play games, and it was fine, she liked keeping him company. She didn't need to be outside anyway because there wasn't anything dangerous about sitting in front of a bunch of computers all day long. And when she did want to go out, she could, even when Cary kept sitting.

She's not the inside one anymore. And they don't have a spare body that one of them can use. Instead they have to share, and it sucks.

Amy finally saves them, because everyone's going for a walk to the park and for lunch, and she wants them to come, too.

"You can bring me something back," Cary says, because he's in the middle of something important, but he's always in the middle of something important.

"The fresh air will be good for you," Amy says.

Cary protests, but Amy says, "I won't take no for an answer," grabs their arm and drags them to their feet.

They feel stiff from sitting for so long, lots of sitting for days, and Cary takes a moment to stretch their back and neck. "Very well. Will it take long? I do need to get back to this."

"We've reunited all the mutants with their families," Amy reminds them. "Or at least the ones we could. We can slow down."

"There's still so much we need to understand," Cary protests, as Amy leads them outside.

"You can't solve everything overnight," Amy says. "Kerry, how are you doing in there?"

Being directly addressed startles Kerry, motivates her. She pushes back against Cary, wanting control yet again, and this time he doesn't fight. He'd rather keep thinking than go for a walk. Kerry thinks it's funny that he's the one refusing to do the body stuff and she's the one who wants to be out. But not funny-funny.

"Ugh, finally," Kerry says. Their body feels all stiff and bad after barely moving for ages. "Cary's been a total body hog."

"He has," Amy agrees.

Cary's so distracted with all that thinking, he doesn't even care that they're talking about him. Fine, let him be that way. She's back in charge, it's her body, that's how it should be.

They meet up with the group. It's a lot of people, and even though she knows everyone, crowds still aren't her favorite thing. None of the Davids are here, except Davey. It's weird that he's so many people now, and that one of them's a little kid. But she was a little kid for a long time while Cary kept getting older. She knows from that book that it's normal for headmates to be different ages. Even though she and Cary are the same age.

She's kinda relieved that none of the adult Davids are here, but she feels bad about being relieved. And she misses them. She misses a lot of things.

Finally moving again is only making Kerry need to move more. Everyone's walking too slow. "I'm gonna go for a run," she tells Amy.

"Okay," Amy says. "Meet us in town for lunch?"

Kerry gives her a wave and then she's off. Their feet pound against the ground as she races through the streets, across a field, and along more streets. Their heart pounds to match, blood alive in their veins, lungs burning and it feels so good.

'Kerry, perhaps we should slow down,' Cary stammers, freaking out like he always does when things get even a little fun. He's finally paying attention but she's not gonna listen, she doesn't even answer. She runs faster.

She's finally back in charge after days of Cary being a total body hog, sitting for hours and hours hunched over boring computers, doing boring computer stuff. Boring computer stuff that helps people, sure, she gets that, that's why she's been putting up with it even though it's her body, she's the outside one, it's her life now, not his. But the big emergency is over so she's not going to be stuck back there for another single minute, not going to be stuck being still for another single minute.

'Kerry,' Cary starts again, in that worried pleading way, and Kerry longs for the days when she could actually run away from him and be alone. He tries to take control again, but she refuses to budge, she's a lot stronger than him and it's her body.

She does slow down then, but only to find a good pace. Cary sighs and goes back to thinking about mutant powers and the astral plane and a lot of other stuff. Kerry ignores all of it, imagining she's like David and has to ignore his telepathic powers. When she was on the inside and Cary could hear her thoughts, she didn't make so much noise. She was a lot better at being inside than Cary is. Maybe she's gonna be better at being outside, too.

It's been too long since Kerry had a good run like this. Ever since David got back everything's been all kinds of crazy. She curls their hands into fists, mad she never got to punch Farouk, mad that Cary kept stopping her. He's so afraid all the time, being trapped together like this he won't let her protect them. All the awful things that happened to them because of Farouk-- She should have protected them. That's what she does, whether she's inside or outside. It's what she's supposed to do.

Thinking about all that gives her an awful, tight feeling in their stomach and chest and throat. She thinks about punching Farouk's smug stupid face. She thinks about going back to before Joonam happened, before David's trial, before Farouk took Oliver and ran away. Back to the Summerland lab when they were pulling Farouk out of David. If she'd just stopped Syd from touching David-- Kerry could've kicked Farouk's stupid ghost butt right then and there. He would've never hurt anyone ever again. He would've never hurt her and Cary.

There's a rock ahead of them on the road and when she reaches it she kicks it hard, sending it flying into the trees. She's so mad. She's so mad but every part of Farouk is already gone. She didn't get to pay him back for any of it. She can't even go kick his dead body because that's gone too. She growls, teeth bared, and runs faster, pushing hard to push everything she's feeling away. She imagines barrelling right into Farouk and feeling his ribs crunch as she slams him against a brick wall. She imagines his nose breaking as she slams her fist into it. She imagines a roundhouse kick slamming the air from his lungs. She imagines him coughing up blood, and then she kicks him again and again until he begs for mercy, and he's the helpless one, he's the one who's afraid and in pain and scared, he's the one who has all of that and she's the one making him pay. She deserved to make him pay, it's not fair!

Anger drives her so hard that she has to stop, gasping, a stitch in their side. She wipes the sweat from their face and looks around, finally paying attention to where they are. They're not in the town anymore, or near the mansion. She doesn't recognize anything. She feels a jolt of panic, and automatically calls for Cary.

He doesn't respond at first. He feels far away inside her. She was angry and she knows he doesn't like anger, it scares him. "Cary!" she calls again, louder.

Finally she feels him respond. 'Kerry? Where are we?'

He wasn't paying attention either. He was hiding away and trying to solve things, like he always does. She's sick of it.

'Are we lost?' Cary asks, worrying. 'Oh dear. It'll be all right, we just have to-- Oliver, call Oliver on the radio, he'll pick us up.'

"I don't need Oliver," Kerry says, annoyed. She's not a little girl anymore, she doesn't need to be rescued. She turns around and starts walking back the way they came. She'd run but she has to work out the stitch first. She rubs their side to ease it. A truck rushes past, leaving behind a gust of dust and exhaust fumes. She feels tired and sweaty and thirsty.

'I'll call him,' Cary insists, and she feels him trying to take control again. She refuses him, pushing back. 'Kerry,' he complains.

"You've been a body hog for days!" Kerry says, stubborn. "I'm in charge now, not you. I'm the outside one. It's my body."

'Our body,' Cary says, hurt.

"Mine," Kerry says, firmly, and feels a little bad about it, but doesn't take it back. They're supposed to share but Cary wasn't sharing at all. It's her turn now and that's final.

Even though Cary doesn't try to take control again, she can feel him come closer, connecting with their-- With her body again.

'We need water,' Cary says.

"I know," Kerry says.

'Hydration is very important,' Cary lectures. 'You should have brought a water bottle.'

"Don't tell me what to do," Kerry fumes. She looks around but there's nothing. She keeps walking, and there's a bend in the road, and on the other side she sees a gas station with a small convenience store. She's mostly worked out the stitch so she jogs to get there faster.

She pushes open the door and a little bell rings. There's a woman at the front counter, sitting and reading. She glances up at them, only vaguely interested, then goes back to her book.

Kerry looks at the rows of bottles. Cary wants water but water's boring. Kerry lights up when she sees cream soda. She goes to open the bottle and chug it down, but Cary stops her.

'We need to buy it first,' he reminds her.

Kerry tries to remember what she's supposed to do in stores like this. She knows it's not like the cafeteria in Summerland or Division 3 or even the mansion. If she wants things she has to pay for them. But she pats their pockets and there's nothing.

'My wallet,' Cary thinks, regretful. 'I left it in our room.'

Of course he did. Kerry wants the cream soda anyway. She marches up to the front counter and puts the bottle down. "I don't have any money. Can I have it?"

The woman stares at her, unimpressed.

Kerry falters. "I have money. Just not here. I can, um. Come back with it?"

"Money up front," the woman says.

Kerry struggles with what to do next. She really wants the cream soda. "But I'm thirsty."

The woman takes the bottle and puts it under the counter, then picks up her book again.

Kerry pouts, frustrated. She realizes she also has to pee. "I have to pee. Can I use your bathroom?"

"Customers only," the woman says.

"Please?" Kerry begs. "I really have to pee."

The woman sighs. "Fine. In the back on the left. Use this." She hands over a key attached, weirdly, to a metal hubcap.

Kerry unlocks the bathroom door and steps inside. She turns on the light. The bathroom is dingy and smells. She grimaces. "It's gross."

'Do you want me to--' Cary starts.

"No," Kerry says, not wanting to give back control even for this. It's the worst part of body stuff but she's mostly used to it now. Just not in a gross place like this.

Somehow being in the bathroom makes her need to pee even more. She quickly pull down their pants, but she doesn't want to sit on the gross seat, so she crouches over it. She lets go and endures the bizarre sensation of water rushing out of their body. The relief is worth it, though. She struggles with the toilet paper, which is thin and keeps breaking off, but finally gets a handful and dries off. She pushes the grungy handle and everything flushes away.

'We should really wash our hands,' Cary reminds her.

"Yeah, yeah," Kerry huffs. Even the soap looks gross, but she washes their hands anyway. At least the water coming out of the faucet looks clean. After she rinses, she bends down and drinks from the faucet. It tastes a little metallic but okay. She wishes it was cream soda.

She takes a paper towel and dries their hands, wipes the sweat from their face. She goes back out and gives the woman the key back. "Thanks."

The woman doesn't look up from her book.

Kerry wants to say more, to somehow convince the woman to let her have the cream soda. But there doesn't seem to be a way to do that without money. She's really going to have to learn how to use the stuff, even if it is dumb and weird. She should have her own wallet, so she doesn't have to depend on Cary remembering his. She likes that idea.

"Do you know where the mansion is?" she asks instead. She doesn't know if it has a name. Are there other mansions here? How will she know if it's the right one?

But the woman seems to know what she means. Without looking up, she says, "Up the hill, left at the church, right on Graymalkin Lane."

"Uh, thanks," Kerry says, and walks out.

That actually went-- Okay. Not amazing, but it wasn't like the disaster of clothes shopping. And she did it without Cary's help. She feels proud of that.

"See, I told you I could do it," Kerry says, proudly.

'You did,' Cary says, calmer now. 'You did very well.'

Kerry feels a flush of pride, and heads up the hill, her steps lighter than before. Cary's thoughts are calmer, too. He stops trying to figure out everything and enjoys the walk back with her, looking around at the houses and plants and animals. They pass a few people and Kerry remembers to wave hello to them.

They find Graymalkin Lane, and then see the mansion up ahead. Kerry's glad to see it, but she's startled by a spike of fear from Cary.

"Cary?" Kerry asks, worried. She looks around, alert for any danger, but all she sees is a squirrel.

'I'm sorry, it's nothing,' Cary says, but he's all tense again.

"It's not nothing, you're scared," Kerry says. "Why are you scared?"

Cary doesn't answer, and Kerry can feel him pulling away from her. And he starts thinking again, going back over the mutants they already helped, like he's trying to help them all over again. She doesn't like it, but she has no idea what to do about it. So she just keeps walking.

As she reaches the mansion, their stomach grumbles. Everyone was going to have lunch after the park, but she missed it. Cary didn't eat much for breakfast. Kerry's still not very excited about eating but their body needs food.

When they reach the cafeteria, Cary feels another spike of fear. This time it's not as strong but mainly because Cary feels so far away. She calls to him a few times but he doesn't answer.

"Fine, be that way," Kerry mutters, and stomps into the kitchen.

She knows what she wants first. She finds a bottle of cream soda and chugs it. Finally. Cream soda was the first food she actually liked, and it's still better than almost anything. But she needs more than that. Like David can't only have waffles. She needs nutrition. They tried a lot of different foods recently, and she knows she doesn't want anything chewy. The pizza and yóutiáo and bacon and sandwiches were all too chewy, she hates chewy. She wants something soft like eggs or even shaomai. She finds a carton of eggs but they're raw and she doesn't know how to cook them. She doesn't know how to cook anything.

If Cary's gonna keep being all weird like this and not taking care of their body, she's gonna have do it. She has to learn how to cook. Cary taught her a lot of things but he barely taught her anything about food until they got swapped. She knows how to ask for food at a cafeteria but that's about it. It makes her feel helpless and she hates feeling helpless.

"Kerry? Cary?"

Kerry looks up from the fridge, and it's Amy. She's carrying bags. Did everyone just get back?

"There you are," Amy continues, relieved. "You missed lunch, we were worried."

"I need something soft," Kerry tells her.

"You're hungry?" Amy asks. "We thought you might be. We bought you something." She holds out one of the bags, a smaller one.

Kerry opens it. There's a couple of containers and a bottle of cream soda. Even though Kerry just had a cream soda, she's glad Amy got it for her. She's glad Amy's here. She walks over and hugs her.

"Oh," Amy says, surprised, and hugs her back. "Is everything all right? Where did you two go off to?"

The kitchen door opens again, and Kerry lets Amy go and steps back, ready to fight. But it's just Minnie, Cary's therapist friend. She has bags too. Kerry doesn't know much about her, except that she helped Clark, and she's supposed to be part of Division 4, or new Summerland, except those aren't going to happen anymore so now she's just hanging around.

"Cary, Kerry," Minnie greets. "I missed you on our walk today. You've been so busy. Do you have a few minutes?"

"I have to eat first," Kerry tells her. She empties the bag out onto the counter. She opens the cream soda and takes a big gulp, then opens the containers. "What's this?" She eyes the stuff warily.

"This one's rice pudding," Amy says, pointing. "It's like congee but sweeter. That one's egg salad, it's boiled eggs in mayonnaise. And that's mashed curried sweet potato."

"It's orange," Kerry tells her.

"Give it a try," Amy says, and hands her the plastic spoon that was in the bag.

Kerry tries the egg salad first, and that's pretty good. She really likes the rice pudding. The sweet potatoes taste like too much at first, but she's really hungry so she ends up eating it all anyway, emptying all three containers in just a few minutes. Amy and Minnie both stared at her, but Kerry was too hungry to care. Now she finishes the last of the second cream soda and burps. She's getting used to eating but she still hates how she can feel the food sitting inside them for hours and hours. And then the worst part is what happens at the end. She's not sure she'll ever get used to that.

"Do you know how to make cream soda?" she asks them. "I have to learn how to cook."

"Not cream soda," Amy admits. "But I do know how to make a lot of other things. Would you like me to show you later?"

"Yeah," Kerry says. "And I need money. And a wallet. I have to know how to do all the outside stuff."

"Of course," Amy says. "You don't have them now?"

"Money's Cary's thing," Kerry says. "The whole thing's dumb but I guess I need it too. Cary forgot his wallet."

"We did some shopping in town today, is there something you need? Or Cary?" Minnie asks.

Kerry shakes her head. "Cary doesn't want anything. It's annoying. He's being a total body hog but he's not doing any of the body stuff right. And now that I'm doing the body stuff, he's ignoring me."

'Minnie?' Cary finally notices that she's here. He pushes forward, wanting control so he can talk, and this time Kerry lets him. "Minnie, I'm sorry I've been so busy. Things have been-- Well. Hectic seems an understatement."

"It's fine," Minnie assures him. "I've been busy too. A lot of phone calls with tribal councils and politicians. But I wanted to see how you were doing. You and Kerry."

Kerry feels how Cary makes them go all stiff and tense. "We're fine, thank you. I'm just glad we've been able to help so many people. What the Divisions did to all of them, to their families and communities--" She feels a wave of guilt from him. "I just want to make things right."

Minnie looks concerned. "Cary, just because you worked with them, it doesn't make you responsible for their actions."

"I know," Cary says, though it doesn't feel like he believes it. "I should get back to work, there's still so much to do."

Minnie and Amy exchange worried glances.

Cary starts to walk them out of the kitchen, but Kerry refuses. "Kerry," Cary complains. "I have to get back to work."

"No, you don't," Kerry insists. "I'm tired of being stuck inside while you stare at a screen all day. I wanna do other stuff. I'm the outside one now and you keep treating me like I'm inside and it's not fair!"

"Kerry, I know it's difficult but we have to share now," Cary says.

"You're the one being a body hog!" Kerry says, annoyed. "And you're not even doing the body stuff right. Yeah we're supposed to share but you're not sharing."

"I have important work to do," Cary defends.

"Everyone keeps telling us we can stop," Kerry says. "That means it should be my turn."

"It is your turn," Cary says. "You went for a run, you had lunch--"

"It's not enough!" Kerry says, upset. "You always took care of me before, and now you're not taking care of me at all! And maybe it's because I'm the outside one now but how can I be outside if you don't let me be in charge!"

Cary gives a frustrated noise and crosses their arms, unable to answer.

"I'm sorry, I've tried to help them, but--" Amy says to Minnie.

"It's all right," Minnie assures her. Minnie turns back to Kerry. "Cary, when you asked me to come, it wasn't just for your project. You wanted me to talk to Kerry, help her with all the changes you've been through. Let me help both of you. Let's sit down, talk about what you're feeling."

"I don't need help," Cary says, stubborn.

"Yeah you do," Kerry says. "You're being a big jerk and I hate it. I wanna run away from you but I can't and it sucks."

That hurts Cary's feelings, she can feel it. "Kerry," he protests.

"You don't wanna let anyone help you," Kerry says. Even when she didn't pay attention to outside stuff, she paid attention to Cary and she knows it's true. "No one's helped you since Oliver disappeared. And now he's back but you're still pretending everything's fine even though it's not. The Davids let everyone help them."

"We're not like the Davids," Cary insists, annoyed.

"We are," Kerry insists back. "And it doesn't matter because everyone else is okay with being helped too, even Syd! But you only want other people to help me and not you. It makes me feel like I'm the problem and you're not. But sometimes you're the problem too and it's not fair, just because everyone thinks you're the oldest one even though we're the same age."

"Cary," Amy intervenes. "You're always trying to help everyone. And that's a wonderful thing. But you need help, too. Let us help you."

"I'm fine," Cary says, though he makes their throat tight when he says it. He tries to walk them out again but Kerry keeps them stuck in place. "Kerry, please!" Cary asks, and she can feel that he's upset. But she won't back down.

"Cary, you lost your body," Kerry says. "It was awful but you can't just steal mine and pretend nothing happened."

Kerry can feel how angry and afraid he is about all of it. He's been trying to hide it but he's the inside one now, he can't hide it from her. Feeling his feelings upsets her, too. She walks up to Amy and hugs her again, needing. Trying to hug Amy for both of them, trying to make Cary feel better so she can feel better, too.

Cary resists, but Kerry keeps hugging Amy, and eventually Cary's hugging Amy, too. And he's not feeling so awful.

"I'm sorry, you're right," Cary admits. Kerry lets go of Amy. Cary turns to Minnie. "I don't want to burden you with all of this."

"Cary, you're my friend," Minnie says. "And more than that, we're family. You always will be."

"Family?" Kerry asks, confused.

"Of course," Minnie says. "We're Nakodabi. I know you left us a long time ago, but you still belong." She pauses. "Cary asked me to talk to you about our people, to help you reconnect. So you wouldn't be alone after he--" She pauses again. "Though I suppose that won't be a problem anymore."

Kerry stares at Minnie, confused. Then it starts to come together. "Cary, you want me to go back there? After you die? But you're not gonna die."

"I thought I was going to leave you alone," Cary admits. "Perhaps I still will, I don't know."

"That's impossible, we're a system," Kerry reminds him, again. "We're always gonna be together just like the Davids--"

"I don't want to talk about David," Cary says, upset again. "And we still don't know if we're truly a system."

"We only have one soul," Kerry reminds him. "And now we only have one body! But there's still two of us! Of course we're a system."

"Well I don't accept that," Cary says.

"Well I don't accept going back to those stupid people who hated you!" Kerry says. "They're not my family. Mutants are my family. Amy and the Davids are my family. I'm not gonna give them up and stay with a bunch of mean strangers just because you say so."

"No one's going anywhere," Minnie soothes. "And I'm sorry about what happened to you, I truly am. When you were young-- It was a very difficult time for our people. That's not an excuse, just the truth. I hope it's not too late for us to heal this wound, to welcome you back. We're trying to rebuild, to make a better future, just like mutants are."

Kerry wants to refuse. She doesn't want to have anything to do with the tribe they came from, none of those people wanted Cary, so she doesn't want them either. She wants to be mad at Minnie, it feels good to be mad sometimes. But Cary's already friends with Minnie. And if Minnie can help Cary, that matters more than the other stuff.

"I'll think about it," Kerry says. "But only if you help Cary first."

"Deal," Minnie agrees.

Cary gives a long-suffering sigh, but doesn't resist when Kerry walks them out of the kitchen.

Chapter 223: Day 16: Do you just not like that answer? (Cary)

Chapter Text

All Cary wants to do right now is get back to his work. To sit in front of his computers and workbench and forget everything else. But he knows Kerry is right. It's not fair to her, what he's been doing. They're her hands he's using, not his own. He glances down at them now, fingers knotted together in their lap. He used to dream of having hands that looked like this, that matched his mother's hands. Skin that matched her skin.

He looks away from them and up at Minnie, who's waiting patiently for him to answer her very simple and very difficult question.

How is he feeling?

"Bad," Kerry interrupts, impatient. "Cary feels really bad."

"Kerry," Cary chides, annoyed.

"How's she gonna help you if you don't tell her anything?" Kerry says.

"Kerry, this is Cary's session, right?" Minnie says. "You wanted him to talk to me. I know it's hard, but you have to let him do that at his own pace."

"Ugh, fine," Kerry says, crossing their arms. "But Cary better talk or I'm having my own session with you and I'm gonna tell you everything myself."

"Kerry!" Cary protests again.

"You wanted me to talk to her anyway," Kerry says.

"Well that's--" Cary starts, then stops, quite unable to contract her. By all rights it should be perfectly fair for Kerry to talk to Minnie all she wants about anything. He wants her to do that, it's just--

He uncrosses their arms and pushes Kerry back, asserting his control. "Very well. Yes. I do feel bad. Very bad about a great many things."

"Okay," Minnie says, calm. "Is there one thing you want to start with?"

Cary gives a great sigh. "The obvious, I suppose. My body is gone. I think it's been gone for a while now and I--" He cuts off, his throat suddenly tight, eyes damp. An awful knot in his stomach, and an ache in his chest. "I'm very grateful to Kerry for sharing. But it's difficult. All of this is incredibly difficult."

He can feel Kerry's impatience fade. He can feel her worry and care for him. He forces himself to keep going. For both their sake's.

"There's so many things," he continues. "I've essentially-- Survived my own death. But as a mutant-- Look at Oliver and Farouk. Or even Syd. What is the self? The soul, the body? I have so many questions. And all I want to do is find the answers. But there's also-- The Divisions. For decades we tried to figure out how they were making the world forget about mutants. And now everyone knows. The whole world knows about mutants and that's wonderful but it's also-- Well, it's terrifying, frankly. So much could go wrong. We need to be prepared."

"We do," Minnie agrees. "But there's a lot of people working on that, including me. You don't have to carry all of it yourself. No one can do that."

"I know," Cary says.

"No matter how important the work is, we can't do it if we don't take care of ourselves, too," Minnie says. "So what do you need to do for yourself right now? What will help you heal?"

"My body is gone," Cary says, frustrated. "There's nothing left to heal." He had hoped they could fix the brain damage, after the incident with Syd, but now-- It's just too late.

"You're not gone," Minnie says. "You, Cary Loudermilk, are still right here, talking to me."

"I don't know what I am," Cary says, unhappily. "A headmate? A ghost? A parasitic soul? Perhaps something else entirely. I just know that-- I'm a mind without a body."

He can feel Kerry's protest, but she doesn't push through to speak.

"I have Kerry's body," Cary admits, on her behalf. "But that could well be like-- Lenny and Ptonomy and Amy inside the Admiral's mainframe."

"Do you need to know exactly what your underlying condition is?" Minnie asks.

"Yes," Cary says, emphatically. "Much of my work over the years, it's been diagnostic. Helping mutants understand themselves, their powers. We need to know the truths of ourselves in order to build on them, to heal and grow." Oliver and Melanie taught him that, they gave him that gift themselves so long ago.

"We do," Minnie agrees. "But human knowledge has always been imperfect and it always will be. Truth exists in a context, and meaning changes over time. Kerry and everyone else seem to agree that you're a headmate in a system. Do you just not like that answer?"

Cary huffs, annoyed. "You never did mince words."

"Never," Minnie agrees, with a smile. But she sobers again. "You've always shared your life with Kerry. When you first told me about her, you said she lived inside you. That you were two people in one body."

"Yes," Cary says. "And then Farouk changed us. I still don't know what he did. Maybe if I can figure it out, I can-- But now I don't have a body to fix. And I don't-- It's better for Kerry to be able to live her own life. I don't want to go back to how we were. But I can't live this way."

He can feel Kerry's hurt, and regrets it. But she needs him to talk about this, so he's talking.

"What do you need to live, then?" Minnie asks.

Cary struggles for an answer.

"Is it autonomy?" Minnie offers. "Is sharing one body the problem? Is it possible for David to make you another body?"

"Perhaps," Cary admits. "But that's--" It's not entirely logical, but the resistance he feels at the idea-- "He's the one who destroyed my body. I know it wasn't his fault. But it was still him. I know what he did for the others, making them new bodies-- It was miraculous. But Kerry and I-- We're different, we always have been. Our situation. I can't risk him making things worse, or-- Or making a choice I don't want, that we don't want."

He thinks of the gene gun, and their genetic samples. Farouk wanting them to choose who would be outside and who inside. He still wonders if they made the right choice. Maybe there was no right choice.

"Hank suggested-- Perhaps we have the ability to make another body ourselves," Cary admits. "That seems to be what happened when Kerry first appeared outside of me. But I don’t--" He swallows. "I'm not sure that he's correct. What we had may simply be what we were born with. There is evidence that-- In the womb, originally, we looked like this." He gestures at their body, Kerry's body. "Yet we were born white and male."

"Did you try?" Minnie asks, curious. "To manifest a new body?"

"Will one into existence?" Cary asks. "Kerry insisted. We both tried, together, separately, but--" He shrugs, shifts in their seat. Crosses their arms. "There are so many questions. About mutants but also about ourselves. There may be answers that it's too late to get, now that--" He swallows again. "In our current state."

"So let's focus on what you have now," Minnie says. "What you can do now with the body you have. What you need to be comfortable in that body." She gives him a wry look. "It's a big change."

Cary wants to laugh, but he can't quite manage it. He nods, and blinks the damp from their eyes.

"What are you feeling right now?" Minnie asks, gently.

Cary shakes their head. "I don't know. Too much." A great many feelings about a great many things he doesn't want to think about at all. It's only Kerry who keeps him from simply making an excuse and walking away. Only the fact that he can't bear to drag her down with him. She deserves more than he can give right now, and the only way to fix that is, as Melanie always says, to do the work.

But the work can be so painfully difficult.

"Okay," Minnie says, seeing that he's struggling. "Tell me the worst thing about being in this body."

Cary sputters. "There's nothing wrong with Kerry's body."

"Of course not," Minnie agrees. "But I didn't ask that. I want to know how you feel about being in her body. People must look at you differently, treat you differently. Or is it how it feels? No more aches and pains?"

Cary thinks. Reaches up to push nervously at glasses that aren't there, and then puts their hands back in their lap. "To be honest-- I've been trying not to think about any of that. There's so much important work to do-- I just want to focus on that."

"I know," Minnie says. "But therapy is special. We get to ignore everyone else and focus on you. No distractions, no excuses."

That sounds awful to Cary. "I don't want to," he admits, feeling very childish.

Minnie's just amused by that. "I think that's the problem. You need to engage with this body, to accept it as yours, at least for now. Trying to ignore it, deny it-- That's hurting both you and Kerry."

"I know," Cary admits. He knows that's the heart of it. But when he tries-- He gives Minnie a helpless look.

Minnie softens. "It's a big one, huh?"

Cary nods, throat tight.

"Are you worried about Kerry hearing?" Minnie asks.

Cary doesn't want to nod, but he does. "All I've ever wanted to do was protect her. Keep her safe from-- So many things."

Kerry moves forward, and he can feel her worry, her love. "Cary, it's okay. I'm the one who protects you, remember?"

"Oh Kerry," Cary sighs. The simplicity of how she sees the world, their places in it-- He doesn't even know if she'll be able to understand what he's feeling. He can barely face it himself.

"Maybe I won't understand all of it," Kerry says, hearing his thoughts, because of course he's the inside one now. "But I don't understand a lot of stuff and that's okay. You can't get better if you don't think about why you're hurt. When I got hurt you always felt it with me so I could heal. Now it's my turn, okay?"

Cary wipes at their eyes, overcome. Minnie offers a tissue box, and he takes a tissue, dabs at their eyes. Struggles to compose himself.

"I don't know where to start," he admits.

"Let's start with how you feel," Minnie says. "When you acknowledge this body, do you feel excited, scared, worried?"

Cary takes in a deep breath, lets it out. Closes their eyes and concentrates. Forces himself to notice. "It feels wrong. Everything's wrong. I can't-- Find myself in this."

Cary braces himself for Kerry's reaction. He can feel she's a little hurt by this, but also that she understands, that it's okay.

"We've always been such opposites," Cary continues. "In almost every way. And now, being in this body with her-- I feel like-- It's trying to force me to change who I am. And I don't want that. I need to-- Hold on to who I am. And what if-- That's just how a parasitic soul feels. Amy, Ptonomy, Lenny, even Farouk. But if that's what I am-- Then I shouldn't be here. I'm hurting Kerry, taking from her, and that's not acceptable. She matters more to me than anything else. And I want to give this body back to her, but I can't-- Being trapped inside like that, helpless, unable to be in the world-- I can't bear that either."

It's a lot and it all comes out together. He feels awful for admitting all that and relieved to finally release this pressure that's been building inside him for days.

"I see," Minnie says, visibly digesting all that. "And that's why you need to know what you are. If you belong in this body or not."

"Yes," Cary agrees. "And I know-- The test with Syd, our body swap-- The evidence does indicate that Kerry and I are-- That we share a soul."

"But that's not enough?" Minnie asks.

"I suppose it should be," Cary admits. "But I don't-- If that's true--" He shifts, restless.

"You don't want it to be true," Minnie says. "What does it mean to you? Sharing a soul?"

"It doesn't necessarily mean that we're a system," Cary says. "We could still be what we thought we were. Two mutants, two different minds in one body."

"Is there another way to find out?" Minnie asks.

"Perhaps Oliver could help," Cary says. "Now that he's himself again. But--"

"But?" Minnie prompts, when he doesn't continue. When Cary still doesn't answer, she says. "But you know what he'll say. You already know the answer, you just don't like it. Right?"

Cary gives a small nod.

"You and Kerry, you're a system," Minnie says. "Right?"

"Yes," Cary admits, tightly, hating it.

'Ha, I told you!' Kerry says, inside him. She's happy about the diagnosis, of course, and pleased to hear him finally confirm it.

"Being a system means you do belong in this body," Minnie points out. "And it won't take you over or hurt you. Having a different sense of self than the physical body -- I think you know that's perfectly normal for systems. And it can be managed."

"I know," Cary admits, unhappily.

"We're making progress," Minnie encourages. "I've worked with DID patients before. The diagnosis isn't always easy to accept. But the truth is important. You know that. And your situation-- It's not a shock for you to find out you're not alone. You and Kerry have always had each other."

"We have," Cary says, and it helps to remember that. "I do believe that-- Whatever happens, we'll be all right. We'll make it work."

"You will," Minnie agrees. "Most people reject the DID diagnosis because they're afraid of their other parts, they don't know them yet. But that's not your situation at all. So why do you want to reject it?"

The urge to leave and hide is incredibly strong. But he needs to do this for Kerry. And despite himself, he can't forget what he said to David that day. When David got his own DID diagnosis, when they faced what that meant. Not the words of reassurance that David turned into a mantra, a foundation for his own healing. But the rest.

"It's not something I like to discuss," Cary begins. "But the first part of my life-- Much of it was-- Very painful. Coming to Summerland-- Oliver and Melanie saved me. They gave me a home, friends, community, a purpose. And they did that by telling me-- I wasn't sick. That the things that made me different-- They're my powers. In Summerland, I became-- A mutant. Only a mutant." Just as they did with David and so many others. And just like David-- "If we're a system, then-- They were wrong. And I suppose my fear is-- That takes away everything they gave me. It puts me back to where I was before, alone, afraid, sick and-- Wrong." All the painful emotions at once, tangled up and unstoppable.

Kerry pushes forward to comfort him, but he pushes her back, not ready.

"I can't go back there," he finishes, trembling with emotion and hating all of it.

"You're not going anywhere," Minnie soothes.

"I hated leaving Summerland," Cary admits, more coming out now that he's opened up. "I never wanted join the Divisions. They took so much from us for so long. I felt like I was betraying everything we stood for. I'm still so ashamed. But I wanted to save Oliver just as much as Melanie. And we did but-- I still feel like we did it all wrong. That there was a better way. Somehow. I don't know." He wipes at their eyes again. That whole long year, he forced himself to accept the arrangement, to work side by side with the people who'd relentlessly hunted them down for decades, who tried to wipe mutants from the face of the Earth. He'd swallowed down all his feelings and did his job because they finally had Oliver back and then they lost him again, but they were going to save him for good.

And when they did finally reach Oliver, after a year of him being just out of reach, they almost lost him again anyway. David almost killed him. It was Farouk, of course, as always, pulling David's strings, tricking him into hurting others. Torture by proxy. Another wound Cary is still struggling to forgive David for, even though he knows David wasn't at fault.

"And now the Divisions are gone, too," Cary continues. "All this change-- It's difficult. Trying to figure out-- Where I belong. Where Kerry belongs. Everything is so uncertain." Everything, and he hates how that makes him feel so lost.

"It is," Minnie agrees. "The world learning about mutants, about the crimes of their own governments-- It's incredible but also painful and scary. So many people I've talked to these past few days-- We all feel it. The whole world feels it."

"I suppose that should make me feel better?" Cary asks.

"Or worse," Minnie says, wryly. "Or neither. But if part of the problem is that you're afraid of being-- Disconnected, of feeling things no one else feels, maybe remembering that will help you feel a little more connected."

Cary sighs. "I suppose it does. Logically I know that-- We have more people helping us than ever before. We're not being-- Systematically erased from the world. At least for the moment."

"It seems we always have to fight for our right to exist," Minnie says, and there's a heaviness to her words.

"Yes," Cary agrees, sadly. There's something else he needs to say, and he hesitates. But he lets it out anyway. "I'm worried. So much of our fate seems to rest-- Entirely on David. The extent of his powers-- That's what scared the Divisions into peace. But he's deeply wounded. Fragile, even with his system. Summerland relied so much on Oliver, and when we lost him--" He sighs. "I don't know. David's entry into our lives has brought-- More good than bad, but both in such large amounts."

"Do you want to talk about David?" Minnie asks. "About Joonam?"

"Not really," Cary admits. He just wants to move on from all of it. But how can he when he has no body? "It wasn't his fault. But it's still-- If he hadn't done what he did, there was a chance I could've fixed my body. Healed the brain damage. Perhaps with the gene gun. It all happened so fast. For a while we had no body at all. I've thought if that would be better, to just be an astral projection, but-- I don't want to end up like Oliver. Losing myself." A horrible thought. He feels like he's rambling. He's not used to talking about all of this to anyone, and especially not with Kerry watching.

He sags back in their chair, feeling exhausted.

"How are you feeling?" Minnie asks.

"Awful," Cary says, plainly.

Minnie gives a small laugh. "You've been holding on to a lot."

"So now what?" Cary asks. He still feels no closer to a solution to any of it.

"We talked about a lot, so let's go over it," Minnie says. "We've worked out that you and Kerry are a system. You love and trust each other, and whatever adversity you face, you know you'll always face it together. Right?"

"Yes," Cary agrees, and feels a little bit better for hearing all that.

"Accepting you're a system, that's hard for you," Minnie continues. "But that's because of your past. The way the world treated you, rejected you for your differences. Being a system makes you different, even in the mutant community, and that's scary. You don't want to be rejected again. And with all the changes happening, that just makes things even more unstable and scary."

Cary nods, taking all that in.

"That's a lot to deal with," Minnie says, understanding. "And a lot of old pain that needs healing. I know you're a terrible workaholic. That means you deal with your pain by being too busy to let it in. I'm guilty of that myself sometimes. But the pain doesn't go away, it just builds up inside you."

"I know," Cary accepts.

"Then you also know that all that pain is what's driving your behavior now," Minnie says. "But you can't hide yourself in your work without hiding Kerry there, too. That's not good for either of you. And it's isolating you when you most need to be reaching out."

"What happened back then-- It shouldn't matter now," Cary protests. He just wants to forget all of it and move on.

"It will always matter," Minnie says. "So the way I see it, you have two choices: You can keep running, and keep feeling the way you do now. Or you can turn around and face the past. I can't promise it will be easy. But if you can make peace with that pain, you won't have to run from it."

"And what would you recommend?" Cary challenges, a bit miffed.

"Some talk work would be good," Minnie says. "But if you're up for it, we should try other methods like EMDR. All those buried emotions from old experiences-- They trap you in the traumas of the past. They make you feel what you felt back then. We can safely let those emotions out, like letting the air out of a balloon. Then, when you think back to those painful moments, it doesn't feel like you're living them all over again. You're not trapped in the past. It can be very freeing."

Cary considers that. He plans to look all of that up as soon as he's done here. But for now-- "I suppose that sounds helpful."

"Great," Minnie says, pleased. "And in the meantime? You and Kerry need to start sharing your body in a healthy and fair way. That will mean not spending the entire day hiding in your work. You need to accept your feelings instead of pushing them away with distractions. I know that's already a lot, but we're all here to help you. You've dedicated your life to helping everyone else, now we get to return the favor. All right?"

"Do I have a choice?" Cary mutters.

"Let's ask Kerry," Minnie says. "Kerry, how does all of that sound?"

"It sounds great!" Kerry says, pleased. "Cary, we can do emotion work together! It'll be fun!"

Cary groans. "I'm not sure I'm ready for all this."

"We never are," Minnie says. "It'll be all right. How about the three of us talk about how you're going to share?"

"We should each get half the time," Kerry says, determined. "We usually sleep for six hours so that's nine hours each."

"Nine hours," Cary considers. It doesn't feel like enough. But the request is reasonable.

"I need to learn how to cook," Kerry says. "I wanna do more outside stuff. I wanna go back to that convenience store and buy cream soda with money."

Cary is genuinely impressed by her enthusiasm.

"And it's not like you have to be just stuck back there," Kerry continues. "We can do things together. I can teach you how to fight!"

"Well, let's not go that far," Cary says. "One step at a time."

And then Kerry's mood sobers. "Cary, I'm sorry about-- I should have protected you from all that bad stuff that hurt you."

"That wasn't your responsibility," Cary insists. "You were so young."

"We're the same age," Kerry reminds him, as she so often does. "We'd look the same age now if we each had nine hours back then too."

"Perhaps," Cary admits. "Perhaps-- We've both put too much into protecting each other, and not enough into-- Everything else. I suppose I have been very-- Trapped in the past. And I trapped you there with me. I'm sorry."

He wants to hug her, but they only have one body. So he feels how much he loves her instead, and gives her that.

"Aww, Cary," Kerry says, happy. "I love you too, okay?"

"Okay," Cary says, and wipes at their eyes. "What was it you said, EMDR?" he asks Minnie.

"Yes, we can use it to release your old trauma," Minnie explains. "Talk work is important, I know it was a big part of how you did things at Summerland. But trauma goes beyond words, beyond reading thoughts or even memory walks. It takes what's trapped inside of you and gives you a way to let it go. Heal the wounds directly."

"That does sound tempting," Cary admits. Part of what made him stop his own therapy was that it felt like he'd taken it as far as he could. No amount of discussing his pain could move him past it. But Kerry is pushing herself out of her comfort zone, so he should be stepping up as well. Trying something new. He has to try. "Could we start today?"

"We could," Minnie admits. "If you feel like you're ready. I don't want you to push yourself. You've been through so much."

"I need to push," Cary says, certain. "Please. Not just for Kerry. For myself. Please."

Minnie softens, understanding. "All right. But take a break first. We'll do it tonight, after dinner. Don't stuff yourself, the first few sessions can be a little rough on the stomach."

Cary thinks of David's reaction to his more difficult therapy topics. He starts to mentally brace himself for what's to come. He's been avoiding all these feelings for so long-- But he has to face them. Whatever their life will look like, it's going to be a lot longer and more shared than he expected. They can't spend all their decades ahead trapped in the same old pain. He and Kerry both deserve better. Whatever it takes, he's ready.

Chapter 224: Day 15-16: Lenny rides south. (Lenny)

Chapter Text

South. Lenny rides south, leaving behind the mansion and everything in it. The roar of the motorcycle and the wind hurts her brand new ears, but she doesn't slow down. She revs the motor and feels it purr between her thighs, vibrate through her arms and her spine, chatter her teeth. The road turns and she takes it too sharp and almost-- But she rights herself and swerves away from an oncoming car. The car swerves and skids, and she can just make out the driver yelling at her over her heartbeat pounding in her head. She laughs into the wind. The sun is too bright, the trees too green, the road too rough. The rushing hair is harsh in her nose, her lungs. She smells the sweet, fresh air, and the exhaust fumes, and hot oil.

She's alive. She's fucking alive.

No more astral plane. No more mainframe, no more Vermillion, no more fucking Farouk. "FUUUUUCK!" she screams, snarling, teeth bared, furiously relieved. She screams again, wordless and raging but still taut with control. The wind takes everything she screams and swallows it, whips it away. It's a relief and a release and she fucking hates how small it makes her feel. "Fuck!" she spits again, her hands squeezing the grips, white-knuckled.

She doesn't want to think about how she feels, doesn't want to think about anything. She just wants to keep going. She has plenty of cash in the new pockets of her new pants on her new legs. So she's just gonna keep riding south, and breathe and be alive.

As she gets out of the middle-of-nowhere that the mansion was in, the road widens and the traffic fills in. Back to the real fucking world, she thinks, acrid exhaust stinking up her air. She weaves through it to keep up her speed, rushing past bored commuters, family cars crammed for vacations, truckers listening to their radios. Just as traffic is starting to lighten, she realizes she's both dry as an old bone and desperately needs a piss. And food would be something too, hot and greasy. The leftover pie she scrounged from the mansion is long gone.

She pulls off the highway and goes to the first pizza place she finds. Thank fuck they have beer, even if it is watered-down. She gets a couple slices loaded with every meat they've got, and then practically inhales the first piece. The second she savors, relishing every greasy bite. She slumps back in her chair, watching the traffic, and nurses her beer as she digests. She thinks about Kerry, always complaining about how heavy food felt, sitting inside her. The weight feels good to Lenny, real and nourishing. Actual atoms of bread and tomato and cheese and meat, and her body's gonna use the hell out of it.

"What would you do? A new life, new body," Farouk asks, in her memory.

"I'd live the living shit out of it," she told Farouk, trapped in the unreality that was his head. Forced to be whatever he wanted her to be, over and over and over and--

In the window, she sees her reflection, her teeth bared in anger, in dark satisfaction, in fury, in--

She gets up and leaves. She gets back on her bike, gasses up, and heads south again.

She's still wide-awake as it gets dark. Her new body just started existing this morning. It feels so, so new, and she doesn't want to sleep, so it's good that she's not tired. Darkness empties out the road, makes the air clean and sweet again, all those normal people tucked away in their beds. Somewhere out there are all the freaks like her. The freaks she used to know, the ones she found again last time she was resurrected. She thinks about turning west and finding them, becoming their Breakfast Queen again. She had a good time with that New Janine chick, at least until Amy started hassling her.

But she doesn't turn west. South is what she wants. A tropical beach, white sand, hot sun. Not some grimy shithole filled with burned-out potheads, the whole place and everyone in it slowly rotting. She's had enough of being dead.

In the dead of night, she turns off to a scenic outlook. She sits on a bench and listens to the crickets, to the ticking noise of her motorcycle cooling. She looks up at the clear night sky, filled with stars, and her heart unexpectedly hurts.

She could go back. To the mansion, to David. She should go back. Unfinished business. Her real memories. Her best fucking friend. Even if she's been doing most of the work lately. Even if she's pissed as hell at him and everyone else for no one giving a shit about her goddamn pain, when she's the biggest victim of all in this entire mountain of bullshit.

Not that she wants them to. She can lick her own wounds, fuck you very much. She'd claw off their faces if they tried to help her. But she wants them to try anyway. She wants them to so she can rip them to shreds and pull the love out of their viscera and eat it, covered in their blood.

Is that her thought? Or is it Farouk's? She spent so long inside him, his fun little doll to dress and pose and rip the head off and fill with dirt and bugs and worms. What would Lenny's thoughts even be, the Lenny who stabbed Jordan Balish? Who spent years dragging David down with her, stealing his shit and selling it for one more hit for the both of them? Not that it was stealing when everything he had was hers.

Except that was Benny. It was Benny David loved, Benny who stole and sold and kept the two of them high as a kite. Lenny was off being the Breakfast Queen, ruling over her own little drug den queendom, nowhere near him. Years of their friendship, of their lives. Never happened.

Heading south feels more like running away, now. That's what she's doing, obviously. And why the hell not? David doesn't need her anymore. It's not the two of them against the world. David's got a swarm of people inside and outside his head, all eager to help him. David's been pulled out of the dumpster and cleaned up and she's glad, okay? She's goddamn delighted that David isn't being fucking tortured on a daily basis, that he's safe.

She was never gonna have David to herself forever. There was always Amy, and then Syd came along. And apparently all those years there was a whole crowd of people in David's head anyway. But it felt like he was hers. Down at the bottom, both of them, stretching up their middle fingers at the shitty world that put them there.

She'd never admit it, but she gets Syd. All the crazy shit Syd pulled, punishing David for not being her fucking desert island palm tree. He was Lenny's palm tree first. Fuck Benny and Syd and Amy and especially fuck fucking Farouk. And fuck whoever Lenore Busker used to be for being such a fuckup.

She's better off alone. She doesn't need anyone, she never did.

Fuck the stars, she thinks, and gets back on her bike.

As the sun peeks up over the horizon, Lenny finally starts to feel a little tired. She pushes against it, pushes on. The burn of it feels good, and she needs that. This body is too clean and perfect and healthy, she's gotta break it in somehow. She thinks again about turning west, maybe not staying in that shithole drug den but she could definitely have a good time with New Janine again, forget everything else. She probably should. Or find some new chick to bang. Start fresh. In her hazy real memories, that's what she did. Love em and leave em. She should turn off, find a seedy bar, and finger-bang some girl, eat her up like a fresh peach.

Lenny's mouth waters, thinking that. There's an exit up ahead, signs for food and gas. It wouldn't be hard to find what she's looking for, even in a nowhere rest stop town. Plenty of bored, desperate, fucked up girls looking for a good time. Probably score some free drinks, some drugs, whatever she wants. It's already hers.

But she doesn't take the exit.

The highway narrows again it climbs up into the mountains. The traffic drops away with everything else, the trees forming dense green walls, sweetening the air again. She's been riding so long she's starting to zone out, the steady, hypnotic roar of wind and road and motor pulling her down and bringing her up. She feels untethered, stripped down, all the bullshit left behind. She takes a turn too fast and almost eats pavement, but she rights herself and the adrenaline cuts through the buzz and makes her feel so alive.

And then suddenly she's not alone. Even before she hears him in her head, she feels him. She'd know his mind anywhere.

'Lenny?' David calls, unsure, worried, relieved.

Lenny tenses. She keeps her eyes on the road. 'Yeah?' she thinks.

‘You okay?’ David asks. She can tell he wants to teleport himself here to drag her back to him. She knows him better than she knows this brand new body he gave her.

She remembers Farouk declaring that he and David were one, remembers feeling Farouk's desperate, savage, skin-crawling need, and she shoves the memories away.

She doesn't answer. She keeps her thoughts silent. She doesn't want to let him hear any of that.

After a long minute of silence, he thinks to her: 'I'll be here when you're ready.' He's sad, he's so fucking sad she's gone, and that makes it worse.

‘Okay,' she thinks back. She needs him to go.

'Okay,' David thinks. And then he's gone.

As soon as she's sure, she veers across the empty highway, pulls up along the steel barrier that guards the steep drop down the side of the mountain. It's battered with scrapes and scars from close calls, tired drivers nodding off at the wheel, or driving too fast for the sharp, narrow turns. She bends over the barrier and vomits up her breakfast, another fast, greasy meal from the last rest stop. She doesn't stop until she's empty. She swishes her mouth clean and spits.

Fuck you, she thinks, at the entire goddamn fucking bullshit shithole world. Fuck you.

She gets back on the bike, any desire to rest burned away by incandescent rage. Adrenaline is white-hot in her veins, her gut sore, her eyes aching. She wants to drive west now, wants to throw herself back into that fucking den of rot and drugs and sex. She wants to destroy this body, to beat it back into the same shape as her old one, battered with decades of scrapes and scars from close calls. She wants to veer head-first into a semi and be done.

But she doesn't. Somehow, she doesn't.

She keeps going through the mountains. Stops for gas again, a piss, junk food. Her hand hovers over a pack of Twizzlers and she wants them and hates them and she's sure that if she eats one today she'll throw it up. She feels like she's going to hyperventilate, staring at the fucking candy shelves, so she just grabs anything else and buys it and goes.

If she died, would David save her? Drag her soul back from astral oblivion, resurrect her again?

He would. If he could find her in time, he would.

Does she want him to?

Fuck death. She spent a year being dead and desperately trying to die. But now she's alive again. Basically immortal, at least as long as David's around. But she still feels like she's back there. Her entire body one endless scream. She doesn't want to live forever as one endless scream, but she doesn't know how to stop.

The mountains ease down into green, rolling hills, and traffic fills back in. Her adrenaline's gone sour, she's tired, hungry, and still has hours before she gets where she's going. The air sours again, acrid exhaust, manure-stink of farmland. She starts nodding off, almost crashes into a car. She takes the next exit.

She ends up sitting on the grass next to a stream, her bike ticking as it cools again. It's so green here, the air warm and heavy with humidity. More farm animals than people. Still smells like cow shit but it's not so bad mixed with plants and earth and clean water.

She feels like an alien in this place, just landed from outer space. Or a robot, inorganic. Maybe leftover from the Admiral, from living in a computer and an android. She felt fused with her bike on the road, part of the machine. But her new, living body doesn't feel mechanical now. It doesn't feel like it's her. It's a stray animal she was forced to adopt, wounded and hungry, in need of care, and she's never known how to keep anything alive. Sure as hell not herself.

She sleeps, exhausted, and wakes up an hour or two later. She feels like she could roll back over and sleep for days, but she needs to keep going. She brushes herself off, eats some candy, chugs some water, and gets back on the road.

Last stretch now. Traffic is steady, backs up in a few places, and she weaves around it, dazed from not fully shaking off her nap. She's hungry, needs real food. She stops at a rest area and has a sandwich, a banana. It's a little green and the astringency dries her mouth, so she gets a swirl of soft-serve. She stretches her legs, her back, her neck. Not a machine, not a robot. Not a dealer and a junkie, ignoring everything but the next hit, not a Clockworks prisoner. Not a fucking ghost trapped in other people's heads.

More traffic, lots of it, but she's awake now, and weaves through it with ease. The rolling hills flatten out, the farmland vanishes into rows and rows of buildings and houses. And then she can smell the salt on the air.

The sky is blue and clear. The highway ends, and it's local roads, strip malls with takeout and hair salons and dry cleaning. Family homes and summertime rentals. Churches and a small downtown, with restaurants and little shops and a boardwalk. And then, finally, a long, broad, blinding white stretch of hot, soft sand.

She parks her bike and takes off her shoes. This body came with these clothes. Dragged in from the astral plane, from the mental construct of the clothes she thought into existence. It's hot here and she thinks about taking it all off, shedding her astral skin, but she doesn't feel like dealing with cops right now. She tries to imagine herself a bathing suit, but nothing happens. It's a relief.

There's plenty of people out on the beach, families and couples, clusters of sunbathers and swimmers and surfers. It's all completely fucking normal. But there's plenty of room. The sand stretches out as far as she can see, just like the ocean.

She walks on the beach, away from the crowd, over the hot sand. The sand is cooler where it meets the water, warm and damp and more solid to walk on. She strips off her pants, leaving only her shirt and underwear, and wades into the ocean. The surf pushes her back, tries to knock her over, but she wades through it, dives under. The salt stings her eyes, fills her mouth. She fills her lungs with air and dives down again, as far as she can, out and down, until her lungs ache and she has to swim up again. Past the breakers, the ocean waves carry her up and down. She floats, treads water, swims. She feels like she's straining for something, but she has no idea what.

Eventually she tires, and swims back to where she entered. The waves push her out this time, shoving her away. The swim felt good, soothing and exhausting, something other than sitting on a bike for almost two full days. She rolls up her pants and uses them as a pillow as she lies on the hot sand, soaking up the sun, baking away the chill from the ocean.

She dozes a little, lulled by the warmth, by the steady, endless waves. When she wakes, she's mostly dry, and the sun is low enough for her to feel underdressed. She buys a beach towel and some tourist trap clothes and rinses off at the beach showers, dries herself. Throws out her astral clothes even though she wants to set them on fire.

After she changes, she looks at herself in the bathroom mirror. Flip flops, shorts, a tropical shirt, the start of a tan. Her eyes are brown but she barely recognizes herself. She's not sure what she's even supposed to recognize.

Is she alive? Or just a ghost inside a body?

This was what got her through the last two weeks of hell. Getting here. Alive and safe in her body and on a tropical beach. Maybe the beach could be more tropical and she could be more alive. But it should be enough.

"Goddamn it," she curses, furious. At the world, at herself for thinking something so fucking dumb. She just--

She didn't actually think she was getting out. Why the fuck would she? Out of Clockworks, out of Farouk, out of the goddamn mainframe? She was never. Getting. Out.

But here she is. Alive and free at the fucking beach.

She goes for a walk. What else can she do? She walks along the boardwalk, the downtown, and it's all just-- Normal human shit. Ants, Farouk would have called them, sneering. Only Oliver understands how much tedious philosophical bullshit she had to put up with from him. And half the time Oliver joined in.

Is this what she wants? Normal human shit?

Maybe a little. Until the novelty wears off. She just wants to wear clothes that don't change when she thinks about them, and eat actual food that goes into her actual stomach. No astral bullshit, no psychic powers, no 'you decide what's real.' Everything's just fucking real.

A wave of intense relief hits her, almost knocking her off her feet, like trying to wade past the breakers. Her knees feel weak and she has to sit down. She sees a chair and she sits, and leans forward, trying not to fucking pass out.

"You okay?"

Lenny looks up. It's a waitress. In the back of her mind, Lenny can't help but measure her up. A few years younger than her, and cute in a hometown way. She looks worried.

"Yeah," Lenny says, trying to sit up. "Just dizzy. Too much sun." Too much everything. She leans forward again, breathes.

"I'll get you some water," the waitress says, and walks away. And then she's back, pressing a cup of cool water into Lenny's hands.

Lenny sips it and waits for everything to stop spinning when she moves. If this ever happens again she's gonna tell David his body making skills are shit. The thought of his inevitable puppy-dog reaction makes her laugh under her breath. She takes a deep breath, holds it, lets it out. Does it again, and she sits up, mostly recovered.

"Better?" the waitress asks.

"Yeah," Lenny sighs. "Sorry about that. All good in the head now." She flashes the waitress a smile. Notes her nametag. Lily. "Just got into today. Long ride, guess it caught up with me."

"Are you here with anyone?" Lily asks. "Someone you can call?"

She knows if she mentally shouted for David or Oliver, they'd be here in seconds. But she doesn't want that, not right now. "Nah. Solo vacation. Just here for some fun in the sun, you know?" She looks Lily up and down, instinctively sizing her up, figuring out what it would take to get her naked. But for once, other things feel more important. "You got a menu or something?"

"Oh!" Lily says, surprised. She smiles, cute, and shakes her head, getting back into waitress mode. "Of course. Let me get you set up." She goes inside the restaurant, then comes back with cutlery in a rolled-up napkin, and a laminated menu. "I'll give you a minute."

Lenny thanks her, and sits back in her chair, tilts her head back, breathes. Eating, sleeping, all this body shit. She's gotta get used to it again. It all feels stronger now. Maybe because she was a fucking ghost for ages. Maybe because she's not off her tits on prescription and non-prescription drugs for the first time in her life.

She orders a loaded burger and fries and a beer, and it's not fancy but it's a hell of a lot better than the cheap crap she ate on the road. She savors each bite and enjoys watching the other people at the restaurant, the ones walking by on the street, normal humans doing normal human shit.

The beer gives her a light buzz, just enough to take the edge off. She doesn't want to take more than that. She feels aware of her breathing, of the food in her gut, the weight of her limbs. She's tired, a little sleepy. Her new body aches from the long ride. She wants to lie down in an actual bed and actually sleep. She didn't want to sleep before, to close her eyes, but she can feel how much her new body craves it.

She waves Lily over for the check. "Gotta go crash for the night. Any place good here?"

"For a room?" Lily asks. "How long are you staying?"

Lenny shrugs. "Dunno."

"Well, there's a lot of B&Bs here. But if it's just for tonight, there's a motel back that way." Lily points down the street.

"B&B?" Lenny asks.

"Bed and breakfast," Lily explains. "You rent a room in someone's house and in the morning they make you breakfast. Never done one?"

"Yeah, that's not usually how I get my breakfast," Lenny says, recalling several fond and very hazy memories from what she thinks is her actual life.

"That's how most people stay when they come here," Lily says. "My wife actually runs one, brings in some extra cash." She gives Lenny an assessing look. "If it's just you-- We do have a room available tonight."

Wife? Lenny looks again at Lily's un-ringed hands, then notices the glint at the base of her throat. A thin gold chain and a ring just peeking out from under her shirt.

Not that the bonds of marriage ever stopped Lenny from having a good time. But she doesn't know what she wants she wants right now. She doesn't know if she's staying here or going anywhere. But she knows she doesn't want any crazy shit, and Lily seems incredibly normal.

"Yeah, why not?" Lenny says.

"Great!" Lily says, pleased. "I'll go call Jo, have her get the room ready. You can head over now or wait until my shift ends. It'll be a few hours."

Lenny thinks about it. She could stay, hang out on the beach some more, buy some shit. But she's tired. God, she's tired. "Now's good."

Lily gives her directions, and Lenny goes back to her bike and rides over. There's a sign out front advertising the B&B. A woman opens the front door and waves to her. Must be Jo.

"Lenny?" Jo greets. She's not as pretty as Lily, kinda butch. Lenny tells her brain to stop trying to get her laid, at least until she's had a good night's sleep. "Glad you found the place. Come in, I'll show you around. No luggage?"

Lenny doesn't miss Jo's curious look at her lack of luggage.

It's a nice little place. A homey kitchen with a big table, living room, a couple bathrooms, the bedrooms upstairs. The cozy calm of it all makes Lenny even more tired. She yawns, swaying on her feet.

"Lily said you had a touch of sun," Jo says. "I'll let you rest. You need anything?"

"Nah, just gonna hit the hay," Lenny says. They say goodnight and Lenny strips off, turns off the light, and crawls into bed.

She stares up at the ceiling. Blue moonlight and orange street light mix and filter in through the gaps in the curtains. There's some framed art on the walls, a painting of the beach, photos of the town. The room is clean and tidy and dry. It smells faintly of lavender, not rot or concrete or metal.

She feels suddenly frozen, holding her breath, waiting, braced for the worst. Wide awake despite her exhaustion. Her heart is racing, breath shallow. She's going to look and out of the corner of her eye she'll see him. One of his fucking masks, it doesn't matter which. Her whole, brand new body is tense with pure, gut-wrenching fear.

She doesn't move. She doesn't dare move. The dread is overwhelming. She feels like she's going to die. She lets out a quiet, muffled sob into the blanket. She shut her eyes and strains against it, diving down, deep down where nothing can reach her, so far down beneath the waves.

Chapter 225: Day 16: He's all yours. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Once it's clear that Davey is settled for a while, happily playing video games with Buster while Matilda naps in a sunbeam, Syd checks in on the other young David. Everything's calm in Hank's office. Amahl is behind Hank's desk now, still reading Charles' papers and making notes in the margins, intensely focused. And David-- Past David-- Is curled up in a blanket on a couch. She blinks in surprise, as it's identical to the couch in Cary's Division 3 lab and certainly wasn't there before. An astral couch, she realizes, for this David's astral body.

She can't tell if David is awake or just resting. Oliver told her how he wants her to help Amahl, somehow. They can't erase his Farouk memories right away so he needs help loving David without-- Cruelty.

Syd scoffed at the idea. Not that Amahl couldn't be helped somehow, but that she was the right one to do it. She'd pointed out to Oliver that they had a whole world full of people who could help them now, they were done with Farouk's isolating games. They had three licensed, experienced therapists on call. But Oliver insisted, and said it would be good for her, too. The best way to learn is to teach, he said, his light tone obviously intended to make it feel less like an insult.

She was insulted anyway. She's handling it. Everything with David, his system, all of it. It's under control. They don't need to play any more therapy games now that Farouk is gone.

Amahl pauses his writing and glances towards her, noticing her lurking there even without telepathy. Or maybe David told him. He is awake, she realizes, noticing the glint of his barely-open eyes.

Caught, she turns and walks away, hurries away, downstairs and then out of the mansion. She composes herself again and decides to take a walk around the grounds. It reminds her a little of Summerland, all this placid nature, but mainly because Syd has spent almost her entire life in one city or another. She's a city girl. David is the one who loves all these forest and fields. If they stay here, if Davey stays here, she'll have to get used to this. She mentally adds it to the growing list of things she'll have to get used to, if she stays.

At the back of the mansion, she finds Amy sitting on a blanket on the grass, basking in the sun with a hat over her face. Syd thinks she might be asleep at first, but then Amy pulls aside the hat and squints up, smiling.

"Hey," Amy greets. She sits up, adjusts her hat. She slides over to make room and pats the blanket. "Room for two?"

"Thanks." Syd sits. She scans the blanket for bugs. Thankfully there's a limit to what animals she's capable of swapping with, but she still doesn't like bugs.

"It feels so good out here," Amy marvels. "Everything feels so alive. I feel so alive." She gives a soft, happy laugh, then saddens. "Ben would have liked it here. He hated the desert. Our old house had a vegetable garden, and he loved puttering around in there. Always complained about gophers and rabbits. But he was proud of what he grew. Mostly tomatoes. We always ended up with so many tomatoes." She laughs, fond and sad.

"I'm sorry," Syd offers, not knowing what else to say.

Amy sighs. "It doesn't feel fair. Being here without him." She shakes her head, visibly pushing the topic aside. "How's Davey?"

"Buster's teaching him how to play video games," Syd says. "He seems happy."

"I'm so glad he has a friend here," Amy says, heartfelt. "Someone close to his age, who understands him. However much Davey actually has an age. Buster's a few years older, like I was." She looks sad again, not grieving but wistful. "David was so sweet at that age. It's still hard to accept--" She wipes at her eyes. "I'm sorry, being alive again, this body-- In the mainframe, what I felt was-- Calmer. No big highs or lows. It helped, dealing with everything, but-- I don't know, did I always feel so much? I should remember."

"I think we just get used to it," Syd says. Thinking of her maze, reliving her childhood over and over again, a greatest hits collection of her emotional wounds. Even as a baby, she felt so much. "You'll get used to it again."

"I'm not sure I want to," Amy admits. "Most of my life, I just-- Pushed things down. Ignored my feelings, ignored the truth that was right in front of me. All those years-- I was so afraid of facing anything. I missed so much. I wish I could do it over. I wish that could be me with Davey, having the childhood we were supposed to have." She wipes her eyes again. "I'm sorry, I know it's not as safe now, but-- Can we hug? I really need a hug."

Syd checks her clothes, braces herself, nods. She and Amy carefully slot together, hug, and Syd feels the needles fierce under her skin. But she bears it. She misses Amy's android body more than she ever thought she would.

"Thank you," Amy says, pulling back, letting go. The needles go dormant again. Amy seems better for the hug. "Thank you for everything. For killing Farouk. You and Lenny. What you put yourself through to stop him. You're an amazing person, you know that? I'm so glad that-- After all these years, I have a sister, too. That it's you."

Amy gives Syd a hopeful look, loving and grateful. It makes Syd want to run again, away from all of this, from everything, but she smiles at Amy instead. "Me too," she says, lying and truthful, repelled and glad.

Amy leans back, her hands in the grass, her face in the sun. Even with all her turbulent emotions, she seems happy, at peace. Syd can't help but envy her.

They rest in the sun for a while longer, then fold up the blanket and finish Syd's walk together. As they're heading back, they get a call from Melanie on Syd's watch. Dinner's almost ready.

In the hallway, they meet a Vermillion in passing.

"How's the recovery going?" Amy asks it.

"Restoration is almost complete," the Vermillion says. "Then we will reindex. Integrate our new inputs. Rebuild global models."

"You're always so busy in there," Amy says, impressed.

Having been inside of the Admiral's body, inside their hive mind-- Syd's had a few nightmares about those swaps. How the overwhelming flood of information threatened to wash her away, despite the protection of her powers. The multi-faceted awareness of the Vermillion androids, separate yet connected. She doesn't know how they can bear all of that. Maybe he couldn't, the original Admiral, and who they are now is just-- What evolved to bear it. A system unlike any other.

"We have much to analyze and project," the Vermillion continues. "Our previous models are no longer valid. We must find the best course for the safety of humanity and mutants."

"We do," Amy agrees, with feeling. "We're just heading to dinner. I know you can't eat, but we'd love to have you join us."

"We are already there," the Vermillion says. "We will speak later, Amy Haller. Syd Barrett." It gives them a stiff bow and then walks away.

Syd feels oddly like she was just called to the principal's office. The Admiral was in charge of Division 3, despite the reluctance of the humans who owned them. In charge of all the Divisions, in a way. She wonders what their role will be now. All that power and information-- They're just as important as the Davids to whatever happens next.

The Vermillion is indeed already in the cafeteria, the Admiral himself sitting between another pair of androids. The separate tables have been pushed back together so they can all eat together, and there's already a crowd. The Karies, Hank, Martin, Minnie, Doctor Orwell and her team. Delicious smells waft out from the kitchen, an unidentifiable combination of spices.

Martin seems to be having one of his better days, regaling the table with stories about his time in the military and Ptonomy and Bernie's childhood. The confused shell of a man is now vibrant and full of life, at least for the moment.

The hallway door opens, and Melanie walks in with Davey and Buster. Melanie waves to the group but brings her charges up to the kitchen window. Syd and Amy join them.

Forge and Mara are busy at the stove, each stirring a pot. Kitty is assisting-- And sneaking bits of food to Lockheed, who is perched on her shoulder as usual. When Kitty sees them, she smiles and comes over.

"Smells good, huh?" Kitty says, proudly. "I made the Jambalaya and the cornbread."

"And you fed half the ingredients to Lockheed," Forge says, fondly teasing.

"He's hungry," Kitty insists. "He's a growing dragon."

"Well, he's gotta save something for the rest of us," Forge says. "Take him outta here so we can bring things out of the oven in peace."

"Yeah, yeah," Kitty moans, but she's happy to reunite with Davey and Buster.

"I'll help," Amy says, and heads in to the kitchen. "Just tell me what you need."

Mara hands off her stirring to Amy, and starts setting up serving plates. She opens the oven and there's a waft of baked fish, and Kitty barely keeps Lockheed from flying back inside and gobbling up the fish.

"You'd think that dragon had never been fed once in his entire life," Forge says, rolling his eyes.

"I'll help too," Syd offers.

"Thanks, but Oliver said they should be coming back from DC in a few--" Mara looks past Syd and smiles. Syd turns to see Oliver standing there, apron on and spoon in hand. And he's not alone.

"Excuse me, left something on the stove," Oliver says, hurrying back into the kitchen.

"Hey," Ptonomy says, his eyes only for Mara.

"Hey," Mara says, her eyes only for Ptonomy. Ptonomy gives her an absolutely besotted smile, and Mara blushed and smiles back.

Their flirting is very cute, but they're clearly going to be busy for a while, so Syd excuses herself and leaves them to it, pushing away her pang of jealousy. Everyone's back now except David, and Dvd and Divad. She knows they had a tough day and needed a break. And she was busy with everything here so she hasn't tried to reach him. But everyone else is here, aside from Amahl and the other David, who she doubts are joining them. Where are they? Did something happen? She instinctively grabs her compass necklace, holds it, feels the smooth edges of the metal through her thin gloves.

Bernie has already gone over to the table to hug her dad. She's obviously delighted to see him feeling well. Marcelle and Miriam reunite with Minnie and the Karies, and seats are shuffled. Which just leaves Clark and Daniel and-- Two strangers. A white man wearing red sunglasses and a black woman with striking white hair, even though both are around David's age, maybe a little older.

Syd takes a step forward to meet them, distract herself from worrying about David. But Clark and Daniel look away from her, scanning the room, and then they go still. Syd follows their shared gaze and sees Buster standing still, staring back at them, angry and hurt.

"Buster," Daniel calls, reaching for him.

For a moment, Syd thinks Buster is going to turn and walk away. Reject his parents for every awful thing they did in Buster's name, and Syd wouldn't blame him if he did. But instead, Buster takes Davey's hand and marches up to his parents, pulling Davey along with him. Davey lets him, confused but wanting to stay close to his new best friend.

"Davey's my friend and we're roommates now," Buster says, defiant. "We're learning all about mutant powers and I'm not coming home."

"Buster," Daniel says, soft and hurt. "We made mistakes," he continues, pleading for understanding. "Lots of them, but we're trying to fix things."

From the pain on Buster's face, it's not enough and nothing might be enough. He stares at Clark, refusing to back down or hide. Clark says nothing, his expression closed off, but Syd knows him well enough. Knows his shame.

Clark looks at Davey, and Davey stares back, wide-eyed, a little afraid. Davey shifts closer to Buster, and Syd wonders what Davey is hearing from Clark's thoughts, if she should intervene. Not there's anything she can do to stop Davey from hearing Clark's thoughts, feeling his emotions.

Syd feels an awful pang of protectiveness towards Davey, an awful understanding of Amy. Amy's need to protect David, her need to ignore what she couldn't face, her helplessness and frustration. Not just standing in front of the kettle and holding her breath for a year. Decades of silently screaming while her sweet baby brother got sicker and sicker and nothing helped.

Farouk is gone now, but is that enough? When Davey and David are so full of wounds, so wide open to the world and every hidden cruelty?

She hates telepathy. With every fiber of her being, she hates it.

She's so caught up in her own feelings that she almost misses what happens next. Clark kneels down to be at Buster and Davey's level. His expression is determined and calm. He looks at Davey and holds out his hand. "Any friend of Buster's is a friend of mine. I'm very glad you're here, Davey. I want-- I'd like us to be friends, too." And he gives Davey a look of open, genuine care, and it's so alien on Clark's face that it shocks her.

And Davey steps forward, lets go of Buster, and hugs Clark.

Buster is as shocked as Syd. But Daniel isn't. He kneels down too and puts his arm around Clark's back. Syd desperately wants to know what's passing between the three of them, what Davey is hearing and feeling from them that made him feel so safe.

Daniel reaches out, and Buster's anger falls away, and the four of them are holding each other. Buster is sniffling against Daniel's shoulder.

"C'mon," Clark says, moving to stand. When Davey doesn't let him go, Clark sighs and hefts Davey up, lets Davey cling to him. Buster is too big for such things, but he takes Daniel's hand as they walk over to the long table to join the others.

Syd thinks of stepping into David's memory walk, and David's child self hugging her like that. She misses David so much. She hates this need within her, this desperation that he made her feel from the very beginning. She's never known what to do with it, still doesn't. Sometimes it hurts so much she wants to rip it out of herself, but she doesn't know how. Like an animal with its leg in a trap, trying to free herself only makes it worse.

And then just when she's least ready for it, he's back. David and Dvd and Divad teleport into the room, and she's so startled by the sight of them, the sight of what Dvd is wearing, that all she can do is gape.

"Heyyy!" Dvd says, dropping his shopping bags and spreading his arms, showing off his new outfit. "Check it out! What a look right?"

Syd is speechless. Somehow, Dvd managed to find the most garish clothes she's ever seen, and chose to wear all of them at once. Hideous multi-plaid shorts, a hat covered in cartoon ducks, ski-goggle sunglasses, neon-orange croc shoes, a t-shirt that looks like a tuxedo made of pizza, and tall green socks with pickles on them and the words 'DILL WITH IT.' And he looks incredibly proud of all of it.

Beside him, Divad and David are happy and laughing. They're wearing new clothes too, but far more subdued. David's new shirt is similar to his old wardrobe, soft blue fabric with an abstract graphic on the front. Divad, meanwhile, went with a button down shirt and tan, fashionable trousers that remind her of a more modern take on Cary's wardrobe. And based on the bags at their feet, there's plenty more.

"Dvd, I'm blind," Amy laughs, shielding her eyes from his outfit.

"That's what the shades are for," Dvd declares, grinning.

"Did you get all this in town?" Amy asks, moving to help them with their bags. Syd forces herself forward to help, too.

"Not much there, so we tried a few malls," Divad says.

Syd picks up one of David's bags and it's too heavy for just clothes. She looks inside and sees a stack of magazines, and smells a whiff of perfume. She recognizes the fashion magazines that David loved reading in Clockworks. She sees him back then, curled up in a corner of a sofa, eyes glassy from medication, idly flipping through the pages. One of his small but so important joys. The memory eases her.

"It was fun," David says, with soft happiness. "The shop assistants all thought we were triplets."

"Ah good, everyone's here," Oliver says, as he and Forge and Melanie bring out all the food. "Dinner is served!"

There's a small commotion as everyone finds a seat and the platters and bowls are passed around. Syd takes a little of each dish. Jambalaya, chicken adobo, trout with greens and wild rice, some kind of Nigerian beef dish that Oliver preened over. The variety reminds her of her mother's parties, everyone bringing some fancy dish that they paid someone else to make and then passed off as their own. Syd wouldn't have minded except that it was just more hypocrisy and fakeness and from a very young age she was sick of death of all of it.

There's nothing fake about all this. Food made with care and love, families and lovers and friends reunited, smiling and happy. But it only makes Syd feel lonely. She looks across at David, happy with his headmates, with this whole community around them, and feels so alone.

And he notices, of course he does. That's the worst part.

"Syd?" David asks, happiness fading into worry.

Syd tries to do what she thinks Clark did earlier. Push away her bad feelings and just focus on the good. Today was a good day. Difficult at times but good. They're safe. Everything's okay. Everyone's here, mostly.

She smiles at David and feels happy and calm towards him. And just like with Clark and Davey, David accepts it, just like that. If they weren't in the middle of dinner, he probably would have gone up and hugged her, too, and not wanted to let go. And the thought helps.

Syd glances over at Davey. He's sitting with Daniel and Clark and Buster, making an odd little happy family together. David looks over too, and gives an embarrassed shrug, but she can tell he's pleased. That it makes him happy, having Clark and his family loving this part of his system, this part of himself. That this is something he really wanted, even though he never could have asked for it, could never have even found the words.

"David," Ptonomy says. "I'd like you to meet Scott Summers and Ororo Munroe." He gestures to the woman and man who arrived earlier. "They've been helping us in DC, but this is-- Well, I'll let them explain."

"It's good to meet you at last," Ororo says. She's poised and confident, but also strangely serene. Her eyes are the same silver-white as her hair. "Scott and I have been in charge of things here since your father left. We were-- Very surprised to hear about you."

Scott and Ororo. Syd remembers Hank talking about them while David was unconscious, saying that they would be the ones to decide David's fate. She straightens up, ready for a fight if necessary, verbal or otherwise.

"We know there's nothing we can do now to make up for-- What you endured," Ororo continues, seeming to be genuinely sorry. "But Charles was a father to us. That makes you our brother. Brothers." She nods to Dvd and Divad and Davey. "If you'll have us."

"We were the first two he found," Scott explains. "Orphan mutants. Ororo first, he found her in Morocco."

"A street rat," Ororo says, fondly. "Picking pockets to survive. I was alone, no family. He was-- Reluctant, at first. Some might say cold, but-- Simply focused on practicalities."

"He was very practical," Scott says, fond too. "Still is, I hope."

"Helping us," Ororo continues. "I always felt it filled some lack in him. Something he was missing. And now I know that was you." She looks at David kindly. "I'm sorry if this is painful for you."

David stares back at her and Scott, and Syd can see that it's painful, that he's quietly devastated. "How did he find you?" he asks Scott.

"In a hospital," Scott says. "My dad was a pilot, and took the whole family for a flight. We crashed, and I-- It brought my powers out." He gestures to his eyes, hidden behind strange glasses. "When I woke up, I blew the roof off the place. I was terrified and alone and-- He found me. Got me out before anyone could realize what I'd done. He dedicated his life to helping mutants, to understanding our powers. I don't know why Cerebro never registered you, but I know if it had--"

"Cerebro?" Divad asks.

"A device that detects mutants," the Karies explain. Cary explains. "We had something similar, it's how we found you in Clockworks."

"But not before then?" Divad asks.

"Ah, no, not before," Cary admits. "I assume that-- You were shielded, somehow. By Farouk. Otherwise, with all your power-- We would have found you much sooner."

"Fucking shit beetle," Dvd mutters, angry.

"It was me," Syd realizes. "You didn't find David, you found me in David's body."

"Ah, of course," Cary realizes. "And thank goodness we did!"

"Yeah," David says, his voice soft and pained and grateful. She meets his eyes and sees everything in them, there's so much. She doesn't know what to do with all that. What to do with all this love and care that could never belong to her.

David looks down, thoughtful. He looks up at Scott and Ororo. "Thank you. For telling me. I--" He swallows, tries to say more. Can't.

"Maybe we can talk about it another time," Divad says. "I want to know more."

"I don't," Dvd says, annoyed. He has a protective arm around David's back, and David is leaning into his touch, needing.

"And I want to burn that ugly shirt you're wearing," Divad says, calmly. "We're making our own choices now, right?"

Dvd makes a face, but doesn't argue. He rubs David's back, strokes it, soothing. David's grief seems to ease.

She feels another pang of jealousy, looking at the two of them together. She knows their relationship is important to their system, she knows Dvd and David used to be-- Intimately close before Farouk stole David's memories. But it feels like something's changed between them since this morning.

"Another time," Ororo agrees. "And on another matter-- The mansion will be filling back up again soon. Those of us who were reunited with our families-- Many want to bring them back here. We're working on arrangements. But we do need more space. Melanie, Oliver, perhaps we could use Summerland?"

"Dust off the old shack?" Oliver says. "What do you think, my darling?"

"It's good idea," Melanie agrees. "Except-- Our main defense for so long was secrecy."

"That cat is well and truly out of the bag," Ptonomy admits. "Time for some new approaches, right?" He turns to a Vermillion. "Admiral, how's the mainframe? We need those predictive models as soon as possible."

"Reindexing is at one percent," the Vermillion says. "Data files have been reconstructed. We have located the DNA sample for Lenore Busker."

"Lenny?" David says, surprised. "You found her DNA?"

"It is being transported here," the Vermillion says.

"Oh wow," David says. "I should-- I have to go tell her, I--"

"Wait," Oliver says, quickly before David can teleport away.

"But her memories," David says, urgent. "She needs them back, I promised her--"

"I'll let her know tomorrow," Oliver says. "And when she's ready for them, they'll be painlessly restored to her. But I know you've been checking on her, same as I have."

David's expression falls. "I just want to help her."

"Getting her original memories back won't heal her pain," Oliver sighs. "Both of us know that all too well. Right now what she needs is what she's giving herself. Distance from all of this."

"You mean from me," David admits. He's obviously miserable about it, but he doesn't teleport away in defiance, just crosses his arms and slumps, sulking. It's childish but understandable. He misses Lenny, misses their friendship. Syd knows that, even though she and Lenny have always been at odds because of it. Because of Syd's jealousy.

"When I visit her tomorrow, I'll give her a radio watch," Oliver says. "When she's ready, she'll reach out."

"She better," David mutters, but sighs in acceptance.

"It'll be okay," Dvd soothes, cuddling up to David again. And David cuddling back. Now there's no mistaking it.

"You two-- What's going on?" Syd asks. She hates that she's asking this in front of everyone but she can't stop herself. All she wanted was to be alone with David tonight, to just have a few minutes alone on their desert island together, and now this is happening?

David's guilty look is undeniable.

"Can we talk about this later?" David pleads, also very aware of their audience. "I was going to tell you tonight. It just happened and things have been so busy--"

"Excuse me, we have nothing to be ashamed of," Dvd says, staring at Syd in defiance.

"Dvd, don't," David pleads.

"You're back together," Syd says, flatly. "And you?" she asks Divad.

Divad holds his hands up in surrender. "Don't look at me."

Syd knows that whatever's going on between Dvd and David, Divad wants to be a part of it too. It's only a matter of time. What is she even doing here? Why is she putting herself through all of this? He doesn't need her. She doesn't need this.

She stands up and gives David an ice-cold stare, and feels all the jealousy and anger and pain she spent all day trying to bury, feels it. David falls back like he's been punched.

"Fuck you, you bitch!" Dvd says, standing up, furious.

"Do what you want," Syd says. "He's all yours."

"Syd," Divad calls after her, frustrated, pleading. "Syd!"

Syd keeps walking. Out of the cafeteria, out of the mansion, into the evening air. She hates how fresh it is, hates all the green and quiet. She's fourteen again, storming down from the thirty-first floor, furious at her mother and at the whole rotten world, the air full of too many smells, trash festering in leaking bags, the fish shop on the corner, the incense seller across the street, pee from drunks and bums. Honking taxis and drunk people shouting insults at each other. That same couple having yet another fight, breaking up even though they'll get back together the next day.

She stops in the middle of the empty road and sobs against the back of her gloved hand. She wraps the pain around her heart and pulls it tight, tighter. It hurts so much but she doesn't know how else to be.

Chapter 226: Day 16: You are the daughter I never had. (Syd)

Chapter Text

Syd gets halfway into town before she’s shaking so badly she has to stop. There’s a bus stop shelter, a covered bench, and she sits, tries to think about— Now what? About anything. About where she should go, now that she’s going.

She’s going.

There’s a schedule on the wall, covered by protective glass. She tries to read it. The light is dim, the columns of numbers small, and she can’t stop shaking.

She hears footsteps and gives a small, sharp gasp. She turns but everything feels too fast and too slow. If it’s David— If it’s David and he won’t let her go, no one could stop him. He could take her into deep space in a blink. He could reach into her mind and make her forget, make her want to stay. He did it before.

She remembers the arid heat of the desert, the sun burning down as she raised her gun. The pull of the trigger against her finger as she fired. His eyes wide with desperation. But in her memory, the bullet turns back and—

The figure approaching the bus stop isn’t David. It’s a woman. Melanie.

Syd tries to force herself back together, to shove everything she’s feeling back down, all the way down as deep as she can, but it won’t go. It’s too big to fit, so big she can barely even keep it inside her body. She made herself feel everything so she could hurt David with it and it worked. His eyes wide with shock and pain. Another bullet to his head, and this one made it in.

Melanie stops in front of her. Looks at her, gives a soft sigh, then sits beside her on the bench. There’s just enough distance between them so the needles stay calm under her skin.

"So," Melanie says, when Syd says nothing. "Where are we going?"

"We?" Syd asks, tight, sharp.

"You look like you could use the company," Melanie says, casual, like Syd isn't shaking apart beside her.

"I'm fine," Syd grits out, even though all she wants to do is scream.

"I know," Melanie says, gentle and certain. "You're always fine. You don't need anyone."

Syd bares her teeth. "You're not my mother. You think you care about me? Leave me alone." She could hurt Melanie. It would be so easy. Syd knows how to hurt people. David's wide, shocked eyes, hurt, betrayed. Her mother's eyes, devastated and knowing. The gun firing in her hand. In her mind, she brings it to her own head, and the slim trigger digs into the crook of her finger, smooth metal through her thin glove.

"No, I'm not," Melanie says, a little sadly. "But I'm your boss, your therapist. I hope I'm your friend." She chuckles. "Probably a few conflicts of interest."

Syd doesn't answer.

"So, are you quitting?" Melanie asks.

Syd hadn't thought that far. She hadn't thought at all, just-- Reacted. Ran.

"Let's say you are," Melanie offers. "You can still talk to me. Talk to me, Syd. You're in pain, let me help you." When Syd says nothing, she continues. "Okay. Then I'll talk, and you can tell me I'm an idiot if I'm wrong. Deal?" She doesn't wait for Syd to answer. "We all just went through hell. Farouk played with us like dolls. Turned us inside out, took us apart." Her voice trembles, but then steadies. "When I stop and think about what he did to all of us. Or tried to do. There's nothing small about any of it. I lost myself. People died. I think-- The only one of us who stayed intact this whole time-- Was you."

Syd's startled by that. She's not sure it's true.

"I know he still used you," Melanie adds. "He made a mask of you in the dream year. Made you my daughter. Raped David as you. That's not small. And before-- He got into your head, used you to hurt David. Got David to hurt you. But you didn't forget who you are. You stood your ground. You did whatever it took to end him. And what you did, Syd." Her voice softens, worried, kind. "You need to talk about it."

Syd shakes her head, refusing. But she sees the gun in Lenny's hand. Sees it in her own hand. Her future self coming back for revenge, for Syd undoing her revenge. Maybe that's all she'll ever be, trapped in a loop of self-destruction. Like her maze, the same pain over and over, never ending, no way out.

"You can't ignore this one," Melanie says, certain. "I've seen what this kind of trauma does to people. I've heard their thoughts, seen their memories. You deserve to be alive. To be happy. No matter where you are, no matter what you choose. You can't fix this alone."

The noise in Syd's throat sounds like a wounded animal. She tries to swallow it but she's too full, bursting at the seams.

"Just breathe," Melanie soothes. "Don't try to talk. Just breathe with me."

Melanie takes slow, exaggerated breaths, and Syd can't help but mirror her. Her heart and lungs stop feeling like they're going to explode from her chest. Tears leak out of her eyes, and she roughly wipes them away, angry at them, at herself. She's so goddamn weak.

The awful shaking finally starts to ease, the adrenaline rush fading, but now all that adrenaline is turning sour in her. She feels wrung out and ill.

"C'mon, you need to rest," Melanie says. She stands up and offers her hand. "Come back with me?"

Syd shakes her head once. She can't go back there. She can't be near David. It doesn't matter that he could hear her thoughts from anywhere. She can't be there.

"Okay," Melanie says. "Then let's keep going. Find a place in town. We'll stay the night. Figure out the rest in the morning."

Syd gives Melanie a suspicious look.

"What, did you think I was kidding?" Melanie says. "Where you go, I go. Suck it up. Now get up, we've got walking to do."

Syd gets up. Melanie walks and Syd walks with her. She feels wired and half-asleep, moving on auto pilot, exhaustion nipping at her heels. Melanie calls Oliver on her radio watch and makes arrangements. Melanie tells Oliver she's staying with Syd and to keep an eye on things for a while.

Syd thinks of Davey. He'll be okay without her. Better. He has Buster and Clark and Daniel now. She remembers Davey hugging Clark and feels the same awful jealousy but worse. She remembers hugging little David in the memory walk. His small body against hers, his small arms holding her tight.

She sees herself raising the gun to his head, his big blue eyes wide with terror, wet with tears, and she feels sick, revolted. She can't make these thoughts stop. If Farouk was still alive she would blame him. Is David doing this to her? Is this his revenge?

No, she thinks, accepts. This is just herself.

When they get into town, there's already a room ready for them at the inn. There's two overnight bags, one for each of them, packed quickly but with care. Melanie smiles softly to herself, her love for Oliver obvious. Syd feels like a thief, stealing Melanie from Oliver now, after they finally found each other again. She doesn't want Melanie being here like this to help. But she can't refuse it.

Melanie suggests that Syd take a shower, and Syd does. She stands under the hot spray and yearns for everything to be washed away. She wishes she could wash away with the water.

She gets out and dries off, feeling slightly less awful. Hating that she does. When she feels bad, it feels bad to feel better, good to feel worse. It's something she talked about with Melanie in the past. The self-harm. The old scars.

She dresses, covers everything. Braces herself and walks back into the room.

"You look better," Melanie says.

Syd makes a soft sound, faintly agreeing.

"We don't have to talk more tonight," Melanie says. "But I think we should."

"About?" Syd says, tersely.

Melanie just gives her a look.

When Syd was first brought to Summerland, plucked from the ruins of Clockworks, it was made clear that the memory work wasn't optional. If she wanted to be part of things and help rescue David, she needed to let Melanie and Ptonomy into her most vulnerable memories. The whole ordeal was surreal enough that she tolerated the violation, tolerated it for David's sake. And it worked. She got out there and got him back. For all the good it did them.

After David was taken, Melanie suggested they resume their therapy, but without the walks, just talk work. It was easier and harder. Losing David was hard. Syd talked about her mother, her childhood. All the things she showed David in her maze, and other things. Melanie probably knows Syd better than anyone alive.

Syd wants to hate that fact. She hates being known by anyone. She doesn't like letting people in, being vulnerable, any of it. Even David, especially David. She's fine with taking care of him, that's fine. But she doesn't get taken care of. She doesn't need it.

She knows that's a lie. But she can't stop lying to herself about it.

"Been a while since our last session," Syd says.

"There's been a few distractions," Melanie says, rueful. "I don't have my notes. So let's just start with what's on your mind now. How you're feeling."

"Awful," Syd admits. She feels awful. Ashamed. "I shouldn't have done that. To David. Can you-- Have Oliver tell him I'm sorry?"

"Of course," Melanie soothes.

She doesn't say the obvious. That Syd should tell David herself. But Syd's not ready to face him, not sure that she ever should see him again. She's just going to keep hurting him, she knows that. It's the only thing she knows how to do. Hurt him, hurt herself, hurt anyone who gets close.

The Divisions aren't forcing her to stay anymore. Farouk isn't forcing her to stay. Will David? He tried before. But now-- Maybe not. Maybe.

"You're right," Syd admits. "I keep seeing-- Flashes. Not just-- What happened. Being shot. Shooting David. Shooting myself. Um. Intrusive thoughts. I can't make them stop."

"Okay," Melanie says, acknowledging. Not judging.

The room is silent, Melanie waiting while Syd-- Feels.

She thinks of sitting with David in Summerland. How he called himself a monster.

She feels less like a monster when she's protecting him. When she's the hero. But she hurts him. She hurts everyone who gets close to her. She doesn't know how else to be.

Farouk was so monstrous. Maybe she could only feel less monstrous in comparison to him. And now he's gone.

"David doesn't need me anymore," she says, finally. "I should leave, right? Like Lenny. But what's the point? He can just-- Hear her. Anywhere. Right?"

"Yes," Melanie says, blunt.

"So no matter what, he'll hear me," Syd says. "My thoughts. As long as I'm alive."

Melanie's eyes sharpen. "Yes," she agrees.

Syd's not sure which is worse, being trapped on the entire world with David, or David being trapped with her. She thinks about Clark warning her too late about David. Your boyfriend is an extremely powerful mutant who could destroy the world if you hurt his feelings real bad.

"I suppose I was lucky, with Oliver," Melanie says. "I didn't know what I was getting into either, falling in love with him. I understand why the Divisions were terrified of mutants. Why so many mutants are afraid of themselves. But death isn't the answer, not from the Divisions and not from you."

Syd swallows. Her throat is tight.

"There's always a way forward, Syd," Melanie says. "As long as you want one. If you truly want to give up, I won't stop you. But I think you're just in pain. And you have never let pain or fear stop you, not for long."

"I want it to stop," Syd admits, her whole body tense with it. She just wants all of it to stop, but it's endless, she even hurts herself from another timeline.

"Good," Melanie says, with a tiny flash of a smile. "I'm glad. So let's talk about it. What you felt. What you showed David. Oliver saw it, too."

Syd curses herself, feeling like she did every time her mom found her out when Syd thought she was getting away with something. Her anger flares. If she wants to hurt David, that should be her business, no one else's. He's hers to hurt.

She recognizes how awful that thought is. How like Farouk it is. How it makes her feel powerful. She revolts herself.

"All of it?" she asks, voice small.

"Yes," Melanie says, calm. There's no judgment in her voice, but there is-- Knowing.

It makes Syd feel like she has nowhere to hide. She wants desperately to hide.

"This isn't about you hurting David," Melanie says. "This is about you hurting yourself. Ptonomy got further with you than I did on this. You did some great work together. But you did that work because our lives were on the line. We all pushed ourselves incredibly hard because we had to. That's survival. You have always been ready to do whatever it took to survive."

Syd gives a short nod.

"But you can't stay in survival mode forever," Melanie continues. "It takes a hell of a toll. So we need to find a way for you to heal that isn't about surviving. You need to do the work for yourself, not to protect someone else."

Syd knows that. She does. It's just--

She shakes her head.

"Tell me," Melanie urges, gently.

Syd struggles for the words. She feels so many things, but she can't get them out. It's so much. And the need to hurt herself, to end herself, is still so strong. The gun in her hand. The gun at her head.

She died. She let Lenny kill her, to kill Farouk. She felt the bullet rip into her skull, Farouk's skull, and the shock of dying before her soul flung itself back and she was alive again.

She feels like she's going to shake apart, to explode. She wishes Amy was here, android Amy with her hugs. But Amy's alive now, and Syd lost that. She should never have had it, she doesn't deserve to have it.

"Tell me what you need," Melanie says, worried. "Anything at all."

Syd can't. But desperation finally moves her to grab a pillow from the bed, to hug it tight against herself. She sobs into it, muffling the sounds she can't hold back.

Her mother couldn't hug her, and her mother never forgave her for that. Syd rejected her from the womb, and her mother never forgave her.

It hurts so much. She was numb to it all and David and therapy forced her to feel, and now everything hurts. Getting a taste of everything she needs and can't have hurts the most.

David can still touch her. He can astral project and touch her, hug her, kiss her.

She had to punish him for that. For giving her what she needs. For loving her. The rest was an excuse, a safe reason to be angry.

She needs to admit this. She knows that. She forces it out.

"It's worse," she says, voice shaking and tight. "Getting-- Any comfort. Touch. Love. It's worse than never getting any. I hate it. This need. I just want-- To make it stop."

Melanie takes that in.

Syd shouldn't even have this pillow. She shouldn't even have that. She should throw it away. She should hurt. Some twisted part of herself wishes she'd failed, wishes Farouk had won. He was going to trap her and torture her forever. She craves his revenge. She craves her future self's revenge. She wants to go back and hurt herself more, hurt and hurt until there's no room for anything else.

But Syd can't let go of the pillow.

"Oh, Syd," Melanie says, heartbroken.

"I'm not your daughter," Syd snarls, needing to hurt, needing to push Melanie away, needing to reject this love that never belonged to her, that was just one of Farouk's tricks.

"Who gives a shit?" Melanie says, boldly. "I love you anyway. And I will continue to love you, because that's just how I feel. And that means you have to be loved. You are the daughter I never had. I spent my life giving to everyone else, taking care of everyone but myself. Searching for a husband who would rather lose himself than talk to me about his pain. Your own mother couldn't love you, but that doesn't mean I can't."

Syd stares at her, shocked. "You can't," she says, dumbly. "It wasn't real."

"I remember it," Melanie says, eyes full of feeling. "And you know how he worked. He used what was already there. The needs inside us. I wanted Oliver back, I wanted a safe place for mutants, but I needed--" She pauses, breathes out, shaky. "I don't know. To be selfish? Chasing Oliver felt selfish. But the person I was in that dream year-- He built a whole life for me. A whole self. The person I wished I could have been. A mutant. A mother. I was living all my own hopes and dreams. And then he just-- Forgot me. I was a prop. A tool to manipulate David with. To control him. I lost myself to him again. Again, Syd! He stole my mind, gave me a new one, and then stole it again. And there was nothing I could do, nothing. And then he put me back here, and everything came back to me, I relived my entire life. And now here I am, and I know what's real but I still feel like both of me. I feel what it was like to be your mother. He found so much love in me for you. All the love I wouldn't let myself give, because I had to carry Oliver's dream for him. And I loved him too much to let him go."

Melanie stands, walks away, stares at nothing. Syd stares at her, stunned into silence.

"I'm not your mother," Melanie admits, pained. "The Syd I raised wasn't you. But you were never just another mutant to me, Syd. I cared about you more than I should have. The girl I saw in your memories. When we did those memory walks, I wanted to pull little Syd right out of there and keep her safe. Adopt her. When David disappeared, I was so afraid you'd leave, too. All you saw was him. But I cared about you. I loved working with you, the way you stood up to the Divisions. Despite all your pain, you were so brave. You are so brave."

Melanie gives a strained laugh, turns around. "It sounds like some-- Bizarre love confession. I kept waiting for all this to go away. But an entire lifetime of memories and feelings--" She shakes her head. "I need to put this somewhere. I'm sorry." She looks at Syd with need, with cautious hope.

Syd stares at her, overwhelmed. "But it's not real," she says again, reflexive.

"Farouk made David, too," Melanie says. "You love him."

"And I hate that," Syd admits. They've both said so much, she feels like it opened something in her. "I hate that he's-- That he wouldn't have been the man I fell in love with. Without Farouk. What does that say about me? I'm just like him." David shouldn't love her. Melanie shouldn't love her. "Did Farouk make you for me, too?"

"I don't know," Melanie admits. "And right now I don't care. He didn't care about any of us. He took us apart and made us into-- Whatever we all are now. And who I am now-- Wants to be there for you. No matter what. You deserve someone like that, Syd. You deserve to be loved by a mother. It doesn't have to be me, but-- Please?"

"You're not my mother," Syd says again, needs to say it. But her mother--

Her mother hated her. They spent their whole lives needing each other and hurting each other, incapable of giving or receiving care. And that left a massive, gaping hole in Syd. A hole that nothing has ever begun to fill. Even David's love. Because Syd took care of David, she didn't let him take care of her.

And that's what Melanie wants to do. Take care of her. Love her unconditionally. Be there for her no matter what. Because that's what Farouk found in her and remade her to do.

It feels sick, wanting that. It feels as sick as falling in love with David the helpless victim in Clockworks. But Syd did fall in love with him. And Syd does crave what Melanie is offering. Even if it's sick, even if it feels like giving Farouk what he wanted.

But Farouk wouldn't have known real love if it clubbed him across the face.

Whatever he did to David, to Melanie-- However he changed them. They were just things to him. David loved in spite of how he was changed, not because of it. She knows that. Farouk changed David to make him suffer, not to fall in love.

Farouk changed Melanie to hurt David, not to love Syd. Loving Syd is just-- Something Melanie does. Like David does, or did, even though he shouldn't. No one should.

Syd's grip on the pillow tightens, loosens. "If," she starts, trying to wrap her mind around this, trying to find the shape of it. "If I said yes-- What-- Would that even--"

Hope lights Melanie's eyes, and she steps forward, sits down again. "We can decide that together. Whatever you need. I just want-- To be in your life. To help you."

"Okay," Syd says, softly. Hardly believing she's doing this. "I don't-- Know-- What--" She doesn't know how to be loved by a mother. She doesn't know what to ask for, what to need, what to accept.

"I have some ideas," Melanie says, an eager glint in her eyes. "How about-- I get us a new android body? For me, I mean. And then-- I can hug you without hurting you."

Syd stares at her. "You'd do that?"

"I'm your mother now," Melanie says, with feeling. "Of course I will. I'll work with Oliver and the Admiral on the details. Not having touch-- I know how much it hurts you. How much you need it." She gestures at the pillow in Syd's arms.

"Yeah," Syd admits. She keeps holding the pillow.

"I don't need to put my soul in the mainframe to use an android body," Melanie says. "And neither does Amy, by the way."

"But David," Syd says. If she's not with David, and she just very publicly hurt and rejected him--

"I'll talk to Amy," Melanie says. "She cares about you for yourself, not just because of David. I know you can't see that but I can. A lot of people care about you, Syd. You just need help learning how to feel that."

Syd takes that in. "Do I have to go back?"

"To the mansion?" Melanie says. "No. We can go wherever you want. DC, Summerland, we could travel around the world if you want that. Oliver makes travel very easy."

"And how does Oliver feel about all this?" Syd asks. Farouk didn't give him new memories.

"He wants me to be happy," Melanie says. "He wants you to be happy, too. That's the thing about telepaths. They feel what we feel. And that can be painful for all of us. But it can be wonderful, too. Sharing feelings. You did that with David. All that love." Melanie gives a soft smile, fond. Remembering. "I wanted to have that power so much. To feel what Oliver felt for the whole world. Now I know what it feels like. It's gone now, but-- I remember. It's part of me. I spent my whole life helping mutants but never belonging. But there's a part of me now that does belong. Because I always belonged, even when I was human, even though I was afraid to admit it." She laughs, amused at herself.

"Maybe-- You can tell me about it," Syd offers, cautious, curious. "Your other life. So I can-- Get to know you?"

"I'd like that very much," Melanie says.

They stop and get ready for bed. They share one of the two beds, with pillows between them for safety and to keep the needles away. And Syd lies there in the dim room, listening to Melanie talk about raising Syd, about an impossible childhood that never happened where Syd was loved and adored and never felt alone. And Syd tries to let that into herself so it can feel real to her, too.

Chapter 227: Day 16: What do you want to do? (Dvd)

Chapter Text

Dvd can't feel it when Syd silently hurts David. Not without telepathy of his own, not with David's mental shields still firmly up. But he sure as hell can see it when David suddenly falls back, staring at Syd, his eyes wide with shock and pain.

Dvd's put up with a lot of Syd's crap on David's behalf. David needs her. Dvd doesn't want to get that but he does. There's a part of himself that's even grateful to Syd for making David happy in Clockworks, giving him a reason to live. For getting them out of that hellhole in the first place.

But she just crossed the goddamn line.

"Fuck you, you bitch!" Dvd says, standing up, furious.

"Do what you want," Syd says, her face an icy snarl. "He's all yours."

"Syd," Divad calls after her, frustrated, pleading. "Syd!" He follows after her, but half-hearted, stops at the cafeteria doors. There's a distant sound of a door slamming shut.

"Fuck that bitch," Dvd mutters. He's beyond furious. It takes everything he has not to teleport right over to her and finally make her pay for every single time she's ever hurt David. It's his job to make anyone who hurts David pay, and he is so ready to do his job.

Divad strides back, furious. "This is your fault!"

"My fault?" Dvd says, outraged.

"You provoked her," Divad says, jabbing Dvd with his finger. Dvd slaps his hand away. Divad punches him.

Dvd staggers back, more surprised than hurt. Then he smiles darkly. If that's how Divad wants to play it--

"Gentlemen," Oliver says, stepping between them, his voice sharp. "Priorities."

Dvd and Divad both look at Oliver in confusion, then follow Oliver's gesture back at the table. Shit.

Everything's shaking. The cutlery, the plates, the whole room is starting to tremble. Everyone who was at the table is up and backing away, scared, except for Amy and Ptonomy, who are on either side of David, trying to calm him.

But David is not calm. David's melting down and it's bad, it's really fucking bad.

Dvd doesn't want to get pulled into deep space again. He sure as hell doesn't want to deal with the aftermath if David stays put and blows up an entire room full of people who care about him. He glances over at Divad, who is just standing there, useless as always. And then Dvd has an idea.

"Body's yours, take it," Dvd says. There's no time for explanations. He leaps out of their body, barely noticing as Divad rushes forward to catch it. Dvd runs right through the table and slams into David, carrying them both through the chair and then out of the room, out of the world.

Even when only lit by the sunset through the sliding doors, the white room is bright around them, every surface reflecting the fading orange light. Dvd hates this place, but it's all they've got since David trashed their old bedroom, and then Joonam trashed their house.

The white room starts trembling, and Dvd doesn't give a shit if this place gets trashed. But one look at David's shattered expression and Dvd's anger evaporates.

"David," Dvd says, softly, heart aching. Fuck. This is why he tried. He tried to make it work with Syd. Because he knew this would happen. Even though Syd and David's relationship has been falling apart ever since they got out of Clockworks, he didn't want this.

"I'm here, okay?" Dvd soothes, reaching out. David is shaking too, curling up on himself trying to keep his pain from exploding out of him.

For a decade, Dvd had to watch David melt down like this, and there absolutely was nothing he could do. He couldn't talk to David, couldn't touch him or hold him. Dvd was prisoner inside their body for so long. David wants to know how they used to be together, but Dvd barely remembers how to be who he was anymore.

But he used to be the one who fixed this. Who helped David when everything was too much. When the monster was sated, swollen full on David's pain, Dvd helped David, made him better.

David was never better. Dvd knows that now. But he still needs to help.

"I'm here," Dvd says, softly. He sits beside David and wraps around him, hold him. Drops his own mental barriers and feels how much he loves David, feels all the safety and calm that he knows David needs. David might be able to shield his own thoughts from others now, but he can't help hearing and feeling whatever is around him.

He feels a brief, sharp flare of fury at Syd for using that knowledge to hurt David. To hit him where he he's most vulnerable. But Dvd pushes the fury away, focuses on David. How relieved and grateful he is to have David back. He's loved David through every awful thing that's ever happened to them. He'll never stop, never.

The room stops shaking. The tight tremble of David's body eases, loosens. The worst of the meltdown passes, and right on schedule David sobs, wretchedly miserable, ashamed, reeling. Just like it always has, his body opens up and holds Dvd back. Dvd is caught by an intense wave of emotions: relief, nostalgia, regret. A perverse joy that after ten years of isolation, after the shit beetle did his worst and made it almost impossible for them to ever have this again-- Somehow, finally, they have it.

Dvd doesn't want to have to do this for David. He wants them to both be happy, like they were for a few moments together in DC. But fuck, he needs this, they both need it. And it feels so good to finally get it back. Even though it's different with David's shields up. Dvd can't feel what he feels, can't chase the pain into David's head, smothering the pain with love.

David doesn't want that anymore. If he ever did. David is different now. And Dvd has been learning what can help him now.

He pets David's back, his arm, his hair. Touching him, grounding him. Not-- The way Dvd used to, forcing him to feel good, smothering the shame with pleasure. He's just gently soothing, showing David he's not alone, because this David only remembers being alone. Dvd feels with all his heart that David will never be alone ever again.

And in response, David holds him back desperately, clings to him. Lets down his shield just enough to for Dvd to feel David's relief. That David is thankful for Dvd, for the new-old feeling of Dvd's unconditional love. But then Dvd feels the shame and grief roiling beneath, and the shield snaps back up.

David pulls away, and Dvd lets him. David sits in a huddle on the white rug, absolutely miserable, and Dvd has to let him. Dvd leans back against the sofa and wipes the tears from his face.

Dvd knows he should say something, but nothing comes. He doesn't think David is ready for words yet anyway. So of course, that's when Divad shows up.

"David?" Divad says, wary and worried as soon as he appears. He stops, seeing the two of them on the floor, seeing that the worst is over. "Everything's fine," he assures David. "No one's mad. They just want to know you're okay."

"He's not," Dvd says, annoyed at Divad for caring about appearances, caring about everyone else more than David, as always. He puts his own mental shield back up and pushes himself to his feet. "He feels like absolute shit. Happy?"

"Of course not!" Divad says, annoyed right back at him. "Why would I be happy?"

Dvd doesn't answer him. He wants to yell at Divad for any of this, yell about Syd, but he can't bring himself to upset David with it.

Divad looks at them both, paces away then back. "I'll fix this," he promises. "I'll talk to Syd, I'll--"

"No," Dvd and David both say at once, then look at each other, both surprised.

"No?" Dvd asks.

"No," David says again. He still looks devastated, but also-- Certain. Determined. "I have the right to say no, and I'm saying it. No."

"But Syd," Divad starts. "We need her, you need her."

David's face crumples with pain, but he doesn't break down again. "I love her," he says, his voice cracking. "But she keeps-- I'm done with it, okay? I am done with people hurting me. Hurting us. Our father, Farouk, Syd. I'm done." He pushes himself up, unsteady, back hunched with tension.

Divad stares at him, speechless. He looks to Dvd, but all Dvd can do is shrug. This isn't what he expected either.

He thought if Syd ever left-- He thought it would be Clockworks all over again. David would give up. She was the reason he started fighting again, clawing his way up from rock bottom. Dvd knows Divad thought that too. That David would have no choice but to run after her, like the other David keeps running back to Amahl. That David would keep letting himself be hurt because that's what David has always done.

Except that's not true anymore. Not for this David.

Two weeks ago, David was falling apart, so desperate to hold on to Syd that he hurt her and himself. And now?

It hits Dvd just how much David has changed. Dvd's been seeing it, and looking at the other David, Past David, he can't help but see it. But now--

And his own worry just-- Falls away. All that weight, all that stress. His own driving need to make David feel better no matter what. It all fades back, still present but-- Not so important.

"David," Dvd asks, calmly. "How can I help? What do you want to do?"

David looks at him in surprise. He meets Dvd's eyes, curious and then accepting. "I don't know," he admits. "Can we just-- Stay here? For the night? I don't-- Want to be out there."

"Yeah," Dvd says. "Do you want to be alone?" He can hardly believe he's asking that, offering it. But sometimes David needs to be alone, now.

"No," David says, a waver in his voice again. He gives Dvd and needing look. Then he looks at Divad, and hesitates.

Divad flinches, hurt.

"I'm sorry, I-- We can--" David says, reaching for Divad. His new ability to stand up for himself obviously only goes so far.

"Someone's gotta take care of things out there, right?" Dvd says, intervening. He gives Divad a look. "Don't tell me you're gonna turn down being in charge for the night."

"No, but--" Divad starts. He gives David a longing look, but David looks away, unhappy.

'He's not ready,' Dvd tells Divad, privately. 'You know that.'

'It's not fair,' Divad pouts, childish.

'Yeah life sucks,' Dvd says back. 'You wanna fix things with him? Step up and get over yourself.'

'I'm trying,' Divad says. 'Fine. But do me a favor and-- Lock the door first.'

Locking the door to their bedroom was what cut them off from the outside world, and from David, back when David couldn't come in with them. They locked the white room to block out Farouk's psychic storm. But Dvd doesn't think he's asking it for their safety.

'Is that you giving us your blessing?' Dvd asks, wryly.

'Shove the mazel tov up your ass,' Divad says. He forces on-- Not exactly a smile, but something reassuring. "Dvd's right, I should take care of things out there."

David looks up, gives Divad a small, grateful look.

After one last glance, Divad disappears.

Dvd walks over and flips the lock on the door. David's shoulders suddenly slump, some of the tension going out of him. Dvd realizes-- Of course, David was still hearing whatever people were thinking out there. With David's shields up, after weeks with the crown disabling their outside powers, Dvd has started to forget how much David is always hearing all the time.

"We should use this place more often," Dvd decides. "Take breaks from all that telepathy crap."

"Yeah," David agrees, and genuinely seems to be considering it. But he looks around the room and isn't as happy about the idea as he should be.

"After we change it, I mean," Dvd continues. "Because I fucking hate this place."

"You do?" David asks, surprised.

"Not a lot of great memories here," Dvd says, with feeling. "Wanna change it? Not that I want the old room, but--" He shrugs.

"Our bedroom," David remembers. He winces. "Sorry about that."

"Eh, the place was too cramped anyway," Dvd says, waving off David's careless destruction.

"I think-- Didn't we change it to our whole house?" David asks, unsure.

"Yeah, and Joonam changed it back," Dvd says. "Fucking yo-yo situation. You want the house again?"

"No," David admits, a little sadly. "But I don't-- That book said-- For systems-- Inner worlds are supposed to be-- Safe places, right?" He looks at the sliding doors, at the orange sunset through the sheer curtains. His eyes go distant. "Davey added a room. His space station."

"We can keep it," Dvd says.

David shakes his head, dazed. "An astral room. Rooms. Like Oliver's ice cube. I don't know what-- What's safe? I don't think I can imagine safe."

Dvd tries to not let that break his heart completely. "So we make up something new. Nothing from our actual life. No memories."

David gives a heavy sigh and sits down on the sofa. He leans forward, rests his head on his hands. Dvd sits down next to him and rests a hand on his back.

"I miss Lenny," David admits. "I wanted to tell her, I wanted-- I wanted to fix it. Her memories." His voice is pained. "It's not fair. Why can't I help her?"

"You resurrected her," Dvd reminds him.

David huffs. "I messed it up."

"Eh, she'll be fine," Dvd says.

"Then why did she leave?" David asks, raising his head.

"Same reason you dragged us into space," Dvd says. He hesitates, and then-- "Probably the same reason Syd blew up at us."

David tenses again. Dvd regrets it, but--

"Look, they're both gonna be back eventually," Dvd admits. "Syd's gonna have her tail between her legs for being a total bitch. Or she better."

"You really think so?" David asks, and doesn't sound like he knows how he feels about it.

Dvd shrugs. "I got mad at you and I came back."

"I made you come back because I blew up our bedroom," David reminds him.

"I hate being the voice of reason," Dvd huffs. "If they love you they'll come back."

"I don't want to talk about Syd," David says.

"Great, me too," Dvd says. "We gonna make a safe place or what? I want this white shithole gone."

"It's that bad?" David asks.

Dvd gives him a look.

"Yeah," David sighs, mournful. He waves his hand and the white room is gone. All that's left is the sofa, the door, and the airlock to Davey's space station, floating where there used to be a wall.

"Better," Dvd says.

Dvd expects David to keep going, to come up with some idea for a replacement. But he just sits there, looking overwhelmed and sad. Dvd wishes he could do more than see it. He misses feeling what David feels, sharing their emotions. It should be how they work. Dvd feels cut off.

Ptonomy told him to talk to David more. And he's trying. But some things go beyond words. Should he feel love at David again? Maybe not right now. It's hard to just-- Let David hurt. It's been hard for their entire life.

David used to need Dvd's feelings. Dvd would wrap them around David like a blanket and a shield. But David doesn't remember any of that. He doesn't know how to need it. He still thinks like a separate person who can't really trust what he feels from others because half the time it was the shit beetle fucking with him.

Dvd might not have been able to reach David for the last ten years, but he watched him. It was all he could do. But most of the time, Dvd was too full of pain and rage and heartbreak to actually-- Consider who David had become. He was too focused on getting free and getting David back somehow. All that mattered was the past. What they'd lost.

And now that past-- Is back. In the other, new David. But he's almost as out of reach as this David used to be. And Dvd doesn't want the past anymore. He wants whatever future they're building now. He wants who this David is now. The one he's watched and waited for for ten years.

He strokes his hand along David's back. Feels the tension in the muscles there. He thinks about-- How David was with Philly and Benny. Even how David was with Syd. What he needed from them, what he liked. Dvd saw all of it, remembers more of it than David ever will. He knows David better than David knows himself, Dvd just-- Didn't want to accept any of it.

Dvd could just use all that knowledge. He could control David like he used to. But he doesn't want to be that way anymore. And David doesn't want to be controlled. David wants-- To be cared for. Loved for all of himself. He wants to feel safe, in control of himself, but also-- Safe to be vulnerable.

This David has been trying to control his own mind and body for a decade, and failed miserably because he had no control. He tried giving up control to Benny, but all of Benny's drugs couldn't fix him. He tried with Syd and look how that went. David is used to feeling absolutely helpless, and he hates it. He's always hated it. Even before college.

Like the other David going back to Amahl. He feels out of control so he gives himself to someone who'll control him. Like the shit beetle did, like Dvd and Divad did. Like Mom and Dad and Amy did. Hell, and Clockworks and Summerland and the Divisions. Hair of the dog, drinking more poison to fix what's already poisoned.

How can I help? What do you want to do?

Dvd surprised himself, asking that. But it felt right, it felt like what David needed. So he asks it again.

"How can I help?" he says, still stroking David's back, soothing. David needs touch, that's never changed, probably never will. "What do you want to do?"

"I don't know," David admits, sounding so tired. "I want-- I want us to have stayed in bed in DC."

Dvd's heart pangs.

"Okay," Dvd says. "Bring us back there."

David straightens up and looks at him. "But it's a real place."

"You felt safe there," Dvd says. "So did I. Just make it."

David stares at him, visibly trying to wrap his brain around the idea. And then he waves his hand and the're sitting on the bed in an exact replica of the DC bedroom.

Dvd stands up and walks around. He notices there's no lock on the door, so he opens it and looks out. There's a hallway, and more doors, and an airlock embedded in the wall. At the end of the hallway is the locked door back to the outside world.

"What's in those?" Dvd asks, gesturing to the other doors.

"Nothing yet," David says. "Whatever everyone wants. Whatever you want."

"I get a room?" Dvd asks, surprised.

David stands up, walks over. "Whatever you want." He stops behind Dvd and rests his head on Dvd's shoulder.

Dvd's heart pangs again. "You don't have to take care of me. I'm the one who takes care of you."

"We don't have jobs anymore," David reminds him.

Dvd turns and kisses David. He doesn't plan it, it just happens. David kisses back, soft and tired and needing.

"Back to bed?" Dvd asks, against his mouth.

David gives a soft hum, agreeing.

It's night outside now, through the curtained windows. The room is lit with moonlight and and the warmth of the lamp beside the bed. They undress and slip beneath the covers, tangle together, skin against skin.

Dvd's not sure how much energy David has for more, how much he's ready for. They kiss and touch, doing what they wanted to do before, safe from interruptions and demands. They're safe.

They're actually safe. Dvd smiles, grins.

"What?" David asks.

"I'm happy," Dvd says, feeling so goddamn happy. "I love you. I love you so much."

David blushes, shy. "I felt it. It was--" He swallows. "It helped." He takes in a deep, shuddering breath, lets it out. Buries his face in the crook of Dvd's neck. Dvd wraps his arms around David and holds him. Kisses his hair.

And then Dvd feels-- Heartache. Grief. Longing. A huge, complicated tangle of feelings. David's feelings.

David's let down his shields.

"David," Dvd says, soft and strained.

"It's too much?" David asks, worried.

"No," Dvd says, certain. He lets down his own shields, too. Feels all his love and acceptance and relief. His worry and hope. He accepts all of David, as he always has. Always tried to do, even if he didn't do it right before. Accepts all of it and lets David feel his acceptance.

David shudders. Dvd feels something damp on his shoulder. David's tears. But he can feel why David's crying. They're tears of relief.

"I'm here," Dvd murmurs. His mind reaches out to David's mind, moves against it, welcomes it in. Their minds tangle together like their bodies, and they feel each other. They just feel.

It's not like fusing or sharing. It's something else, something new. New is good. Dvd's really liking new.

David kisses him again, the salt of his tears on their lips. Despite his overwhelming emotions, maybe because of them, in spite of them, David's aroused, and his arousal feeds Dvd's. Soothing touches turn hungry, grasping.

'I don't remember ever--' David thinks to him. He can feel David's confusion and hesitance. Being with another man. Being aroused by another man, wanting this, wanting to make Dvd feel good. Frustration that his memories of all this were taken. Longing to know, to claw back everything that was stolen. To be whole, even though he's trying to accept that he's already whole.

A lightning bolt of anger and grief that Farouk stole all this, raped him over and over in every way. David tenses, angry and wounded, and he starts to pull away from Dvd, close off his mind.

"Shh, it's okay," Dvd soothes, reaching after him. 'It's okay,' he thinks to him, feeling acceptance and understanding and shared pain, shared anger, shared wounds. David doesn't have to be afraid of showing Dvd any of that. Dvd already knows, he was there. "I was there," he says aloud, so David hears him in every way. "I was always there."

David sobs, bursts into tears. Clings to Dvd desperately. Dvd holds him, holds him.

It's so huge, all this pain. It's so much, too much. How much was taken and used and ruined. David's been trying so hard to heal, but it's so much. He's been trying to fix everything but it's so much. He just wants to be better.

"I know," Dvd murmurs, letting out a few tears of his own.

Dvd holds David as they cry, holds his body and his mind. Dvd feels everything with him. Doesn't try to control it, just feels it with him, so David knows he isn't alone and was never, ever alone. The tornado of David's emotions sweeps through them and leaves them both wrung out and exhausted and emptied, and to Dvd it's the most intimate thing they've ever done.

"Thank you," Dvd tells him. He kisses David's tear-stained cheek. "I love you. I love you forever, no matter what, okay? You're stuck with me."

"I am," David says. He smiles, even though his eyes are red from crying. "I love you, too." He kisses Dvd again, again. Then he slumps. "'m tired."

Dvd pulls up the covers. He turns off the lamp so there's only the soft blue moonlight, filtered through the sheers. It's peaceful. Safe.

They're safe. It's going to take a long time to really feel it. It's going to take a long time to heal. But they're together. That's all that matters.

Dvd holds David as he sleeps. Then he closes his eyes and sleeps with him.

Chapter 228: Day 16: Told you we're the same age. (Kerry)

Chapter Text

The room's not shaking anymore, but Kerry can't stop their heart from racing.

She's not afraid of David. He’s her friend, she cares about him, and she’s not afraid of anything. Danger only gets her heart pumping, excites her, coils up her muscles to punch and kick and win.

But Cary’s afraid. Cary’s fear freezes her up, makes their muscles go tight and shaky, makes it hard to breathe. Their heart is racing and it feels awful, they feel awful. Their body feels all wrong and she hates it.

“Stop it, Cary,” she tells him, her anger fighting against his fear. She feels herself trying to push him back and away, even though she hates that she's doing it.

But then David's eyes open again, and Cary makes their body startle and freeze at the same time, hot and cold, breathing too fast and not wanting to breathe at all.

It's not David, though. It's Divad. Kerry can see that right away. It's just Divad, and he's not happy but he's calm, everything's calm.

Divad apologizes to everyone and says that Dvd and David are safe and resting in their inner world, that they're staying there for the night, that everything's okay now. Kerry doesn't really like how relieved everyone is, it reminds her too much of how everyone treated David before. When she was the only one who was there for him, who wasn't afraid of him even though he had other people inside him. But she feels Cary's relief too, and it's better than feeling his fear.

"Cary, Kerry?" Minnie calls, walking up to them, touching their arm. "Are you two okay?"

Kerry tries to say that she is, of course she's fine. But instead, Cary says, "No," roughly, with a wave of shame and embarrassment that she would never feel herself. That upsets her more than David's breakdown did. She looks to Minnie for help.

Minnie looks around. "Let's go." She takes their hand and leads them out of the cafeteria, back to the room they'd used for Cary's session before. She leaves them there and comes back with water and a tissue box and a blanket.

Kerry doesn't need any of that. She's fine. But Cary's not fine. Cary's making them shaky and cold. She accepts the blanket. Sips the water. Thinks everything's okay, everything's fine, hoping Cary will listen.

"I'm sorry," Cary says, when he's finally calm enough. "That was-- Unexpected."

"Very," Minnie agrees, with feeling. "How are you feeling?"

"Awful," Cary admits. He hates how he feels and he hates admitting it. Kerry feels another burst of panic from him. "Our session, the EMDR. Can we still--?"

"Not tonight," Minnie says, gently.

"Please," Cary asks, desperately.

"We can start tomorrow, if you feel better then," Minnie says.

"No," Cary says, his anger startling Kerry. "I won't let him take this from me too." And then just as quickly, he calms, ashamed. "I'm sorry, I didn't-- I know he wasn't-- I just want to fix this. How I feel."

Minnie gives them an assessing look. "You know one session won't fix everything. It's going to take time."

"I know," Cary says.

"We discussed working on your old trauma about social exclusion. That probably won't address your new trauma about losing your body."

"I know." He tugs at the blanket around their shoulders. "I hate feeling this way. I need to do something, please Minnie."

He gives her a pleading look. It's familiar on Kerry's face, but not when it's Cary doing it. It feel strange.

"Kerry, how are you feeling?" Minnie asks. "This is a lot for you, too."

"I'm not afraid," Kerry insists.

Minnie's expression softens. "I'm sure you aren't. But how are you feeling right now? Cary's therapy is going to be hard for you, too. In fact, for a while he's going to feel worse, not better."

"Worse?" Kerry asks, confused. The whole point of this is to make Cary better.

"Bringing up old feelings, old wounds," Minnie says. "Not avoiding them or pushing them away or staying distracted. Focusing on those painful feelings so they can be healed. Do you think you and Cary are ready to start doing that tonight?"

Kerry wants to say yes, but she thinks about it, really thinks about it.

"Kerry, please," Cary says, before she can answer. Because he already know what she's going to say. "I know this will be difficult, but I need to do this. I can deal with it. I'll-- After the session, I'll pull back so you don't--"

"Cary, no," Kerry says, sure that's a bad idea. "That's what you always did, right? You did all the scary outside stuff alone. You got hurt to protect me. Even when I was the one who got hurt, you took care of me. I'm outside now, I want to take care of you."

All the times she got hurt, all the bruises and cuts and even the gunshot. She went into him and he took the pain away from her. He suffered while she went out to get hurt again, not caring because-- That was how they did things. That was how they worked.

"We're not doing EMDR tonight," Kerry decides, and it's final.

They shoot to their feet, driven by an unexpected bolt of Cary's anger. He's so angry.

"I'm not a child," Cary says, making their whole body taut.

"I'm not a child!" Kerry says back. "We're the same age!"

Cary gives a frustrated noise. Their hands are curled into tight fists. "I've always dealt with all of this myself. You have no right to make this decision for me."

"Maybe if you ever talked to me about it, you wouldn't be all messed up!" Kerry says. "Maybe I wouldn't have just-- Thought everything was okay! I thought you were okay and you're not!"

"I was fine," Cary insists. "Everything would have been fine if we'd just-- Stayed the way we were."

Somehow him saying that hurts the worst. "Well I don't want to go back. I thought you didn't want to go back. Because things were bad and we both didn't know it. If things weren't bad you wouldn't be afraid of being me!"

Kerry didn't want to stop Cary from talking, but that does it anyway. She can feel him pulled up tight inside her, hiding the way-- The way she used to hide. Childish and hurt. And she does feel ashamed then, her own shame.

She sits back down and looks to Minnie. "Cary's not ready for the EMDR thing. But can we do the talking stuff now?"

"Of course," Minnie says. But she doesn't ask anything, just looks at them, patiently waiting.

When they stood up, they left the blanket on the chair. Kerry pulls it back up around them. She thinks about everything that's happened today. Everything was hard for both of them. She doesn't know how to make it better. She doesn't know what she's supposed to do.

"It's not that-- Everything was good before," Kerry says, finding her thoughts as she says them. "A lot of stuff was really bad. But that was okay because Cary protected me and I protected him. And I don't think we know how to protect each other anymore. How to--" She stops, tries again. "Being outside all the time is a lot. It's scary. But I like it. But if being inside hurt me-- Then that's hurting Cary. And I don't want to hurt him. So I feel-- Really selfish, I guess. But also kinda mad at him? Because I don't think being inside is why he's hurt at all. It just-- Stops him from hiding the way he used to hide?"

She's not sure if all that makes sense, but it's the best she can do.

"I think you're right," Minnie says. "Cary tried to hide in his work to cope, but sharing your body means he can't do that the way he used to. And that's hard for him."

"Yeah," Kerry says, relieved. She stops, thinks again. "Hank thinks because we're a system-- That means our mutant power isn't two people sharing one body. It's being able to make a physical projection. Like the Davids, kinda. I've been trying, we both have. But if we can do it again, the only other time we did it was when we were eight, and--" She shrugs.

"You were very young," Minnie agrees.

"I think sharing is good," Kerry says, wanting to make that clear. "But if Cary has his own body again, even just sometimes-- Maybe he can hide the way he needs to sometimes. Because hiding is good sometimes, right?"

"It is," Minnie says. "With everything you two are going through-- Honestly, it would be better if you had this ability. I think it would be healthy. But you can't do it?"

"We don't know how," Kerry admits. "We always thought we were twins. Two people sharing one body. But we're not. So we must have. Somehow?"

Minnie considers that. "You know, while I don't think Cary is up for EMDR, you could be. Maybe we could use it to help you access that ability."

"We can?" Kerry asks, surprised. Inside her, she feels Cary's hope reluctantly spike and then disappear again.

"It's worth a try," Minnie says. "If you were able to somehow generate a second body at age eight, then whatever's blocking you now is probably psychological. Do you think it was you who made that body or Cary? Tell me how it happened."

Kerry frowns, thinking hard. "Cary was asleep. Then he woke up and I was in his room, playing with his train set."

"That's his perspective," Minnie says. "What's yours?"

Syd asked Kerry the same question a while ago, and it confused Kerry then. She thinks she understands it better now, but she hasn't--

"I don't know," she admits. "When we were young together, I wasn't-- I didn't really think I was separate. Cary did everything. How could I be separate if I was just him?"

That was how it was for Cary at first, when they started sharing one body. He couldn't do anything. Could she have controlled their body back then, if she really tried? If she knew she could? Would she have made a separate body for herself, if she could be him?

"Do you remember how you felt when you were playing with the train set?" Minnie asks. "You were outside him for the first time. You had your own body. How did it feel?"

Kerry tries to remember. She really tries. But all she can remember is how Cary felt.

"I don't know," she says, disturbed by the absence for the first time ever.

Minnie takes down some notes. "Do you remember when you started to feel your own sense of self? Did it take a while?"

"I don't know," Kerry says, even more disturbed. "Is that bad?"

"None of this is bad," Minnie assures her. "We just need to understand how you worked back then. What drove you to make that body. I thought maybe you did it because you needed autonomy, but it doesn't sound like that's the case."

"No," Kerry agrees. "I guess I didn't feel separate until-- I spent enough time being separate. I don't even know when that happened, it just-- Did."

"It must have been gradual," Minnie says. "Cary, do you remember anything else about that time?"

Cary cautiously pushes forward again. "I don't know. It was-- A difficult time for us. For me. I suppose I was-- At the age when-- One truly begins to understand their-- Inability to belong."

Kerry can feel how much it hurts him to think about that time. She doesn't remember it herself, not really. Even though she remembers it as him-- That time doesn't hurt her. Because she wasn't him. What was happening to him wasn't happening to her.

The whole thing kinda makes her head hurt.

"You were very lonely," Minnie says, gently.

"Painfully so," Cary admits. "Perhaps the body was-- My creation. So Kerry would be more than just my imaginary friend. But I was asleep when it happened. When I woke up, she was there." Kerry feels a sudden rush of hope from him. "Minnie, if we do this together, perhaps--"

"It's worth a try," Minnie says. "I think whatever you did, however you did it-- You were very young, and it wasn't a conscious act. But we can start with the memory you both share, see where that takes us. You know the truth about yourselves now. You can view that time from a new perspective. See what you can learn."

§

Kerry adjusts their headphones one last time, then sits with their eyes closed and their hands flat on their thighs.

"We're going to start slow," Minnie tells them. "Just tap your hands along with the beeps, and visualize the memory of Cary waking up and seeing Kerry playing with the train set."

They close their eyes and remember. Kerry taps their hands with the beeps, left, right, left, right.

It's not like the memory walks. They don't actually go into the memory. But they feel it, see it forming in their minds. Kerry remembers the warm, narrow bed. Morning light peeking through the curtains. Christmas lights glowing on the walls, on the pine tree. She remembers Cary feeling so happy, even before he saw her.

When the beeps stop, she tells Minnie what she saw and felt, and Cary does the same.

"Think about that happiness," Minnie says. "Follow it back."

They resume. They remember Cary lying in bed, his eyes still closed, and somehow he already knew Kerry was waiting for him. Like a Christmas present under the tree. The tree wasn't in Cary's bedroom, it was downstairs in the living room. But they remember the tree, the train set.

"So she felt like a gift?" Minnie prompts. "Did you ask for it?"

They resume. Did they ask? Did he ask, did she ask? Kerry strains for a sense of it, but nothing comes.

But Cary remembers something. "I remember feeling-- Intensely lonely," he admits. "Every Christmas, I hoped-- Our father would come back. Forgive me for being-- Myself. I think that year, I finally realized-- That was never going to happen."

Cary's pain makes their eyes tear up. Kerry takes a tissue and blots them.

"So you stopped waiting to be helped," Minnie prompts. "Did you decide to help yourself?"

They resume. Kerry doesn't remember, but she thinks about the idea. Was that what happened? She tries to remember wanting. Did she want, back then? Or did she only feel Cary's wants?

She remembers the train going around and around on the tracks. The houses in the middle, lit up from within. Everyone belonged in those houses. Everyone was safe and loved. Everyone was the same. Rich, white families. That's what the toys were. They made a place where Cary might belong. But he didn't want to belong there. He wanted to belong with his mom, with his dad. If he had been a native girl, like he was supposed to be, they would all still be together. He would be safe and loved.

She remembers feeling safe and loved.

But that's not what Cary remembers.

"I felt helpless," Cary says, making their throat tight with emotion. "He was gone and it was all my fault. Our mother's pain was my fault. I thought about running away, but I was too afraid. My mother was always afraid that-- Someone would take me away from her. A white boy should be raised by white parents. That's what people told her. That I should be given to my real father, whoever he was. I almost was taken away, at least once. She had to fight to get me back. I couldn't abandon her."

Kerry tries to remember that, but there's nothing. "I don't remember any of that."

"I just wanted to be who I was supposed to be," Cary admits, their eyes damp again. "Is that what happened? Is that how--"

"It's possible," Minnie says. "Those intense emotions-- And Kerry was already there. Did you want her to be with you, or did you want to be her?"

"Be her," Cary admits. "I wanted to wake up and be her. Maybe that's what I was trying to do, and instead--"

Kerry remembers feeling safe and loved, by the train tracks. "I remember being Cary feeling safe and loved."

"You were a system," Minnie reminds them. "But you weren't used to having two separate bodies, two clear senses of self. Back then, you were probably more-- Blended. Kerry, I think you felt like Cary because in a real sense, you were sharing his existence. But when things got scary, he pushed you back so you would be safe from that pain. That was how he protected you. The part of you that he felt was worth protecting. The native girl who belonged. Who was safe and loved."

"Oh," Kerry says, realizing. Shocked, in a strange way.

"So I wasn't-- Trying to give Kerry a body," Cary realizes. "I was trying to change myself."

"It's a guess," Minnie says. "But it makes sense. And instead of changing yourself, you made a second self, the ideal self. And Kerry received it."

"We were a girl in the womb," Cary protests. "Wasn't she always there?"

"Maybe you did change in the womb," Minnie says. "Maybe that's what Farouk did to you. Changed you back to how you were."

Cary's shock runs through Kerry. "He did what I tried to do. But he succeeded. Does that mean-- We can change ourselves back?"

"Possibly," Minnie says. "If that's what you want, and you can figure out how."

"Do you want that?" Kerry asks, even though-- She doesn't want it. To be turned back the way they were. She doesn't.

"I don't know," Cary says. "Apparently when we were eight, I was trying to make us-- This." He gestures at their body. "And I failed."

"I want us to stay this way," Kerry says, needing to say it. Even if--

"I do too," Cary admits, shocked again. "I always wanted it. Farouk-- Saw the truth. Used it against us. That's what he did." He looks down at their body, their hands. Looks back up at Minnie. "So now what?"

"That's up to you," Minnie says. "If you both want Kerry to be on the outside, to be your actual body, then stay that way. But you made a second body before. I believe you can make one again now. Do you want that body to be the same as your old one? Or to be like Kerry's body?"

Cary gapes at her. Kerry can hear his mind racing, a blur of shocked thoughts.

"It could be different?" he asks.

"Why not?" Minnie replies.

Cary has no answer to that.

"Cary, you should make your body be whatever makes you happy," Kerry tells him. "We don't know why we were born the way we were. But it hurt us. It hurt you. I don't want you to hurt."

"I--" Cary starts, stops.

"Maybe we can't make your old body again because you don't really want it back," Kerry says.

Cary gapes again. "I--" He swallows. "I don't, I--"

He looks at Minnie. Wants.

"We're Nakodabi," Minnie says, her eyes calm and warm.

"I don't-- Want to be her, but--" Cary says. "Maybe, I could--"

Kerry can feel how it's too big for him to say it.

"I want you two to close your eyes," Minnie says. "Kerry, I want you to focus on giving Cary a body. And Cary, visualize the way you want your body to look."

The beeps start again, the tapping. Kerry can't see what Cary wants, so she just supports him. Imagines him separate from her and happy. Imagines feeling like he felt back then, smiling with joy even before he opened his eyes and saw her.

It barely feels like anything at first. And then it feels like-- She was empty inside, and then she's not empty. A shape in the space where Cary's body could never quite fit. Instinctively, still tapping with her left hand, following the beeps, she raises up her right hand and reaches into her own chest.

A hand meets hers. His hand. She pulls.

It's not like it was before. There's no effort, no struggle. He glides out of her as naturally as she used to glide out of him.

Cary's standing in front of her. His eyes are brown behind his glasses, not blue. His skin is smooth and tan, wrinkles forgotten. His hair is short and straight and black. He's still as tall as he was before, still gangly, but the way he was when he was the same physical age she is now. That he is now.

He looks down at himself, speechless.

"Told you we're the same age," Kerry teases, and she hugs him so tight. He laughs against the top of her head, joyful.

Chapter 229: Epilogue: One Year Later (David)

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

360,000 miles from Earth, on the far side of the moon, David sits with his legs crossed, levitating over the rocky ground. It's a new moon from Earth's perspective, but from his the dark, rugged surface is bright with cold sunshine.

He likes it out here. It's quiet, far enough away to reduce the resounding burble of every living creature on Earth to a soothing whisper. But it's also close enough that David can come here alone, usually in astral form, and the rest of his headmates don't have to drag themselves up here with him.

They don't have to, but sometimes they do. After all, they love the stars as much as he does.

They definitely have to go together on their forays into deep space. Ptonomy -- with the help of Emma and the global mutant network -- has been working hard convincing politicians across the world that protecting mutant rights is not only the right thing to do, it's good for everyone.

And what better, peaceful example for that than international cooperation with the world's space agencies? Who better to help them than the Haller system, who can effortlessly pop out to deep space and fix a broken telescope, or bring emergency supplies to the International Space Station, or collect absolutely invaluable samples from asteroids?

Amy has butted heads with Ptonomy a few times about all of it. She doesn't want the space work to get in the way of their recovery work, of the effort it's taking for them to heal and figure out what they want to do with the rest of their lives, spacewalks aside. She absolutely refused to let them accept any work for a month after their surgery to remove the memories Farouk forced into them.

She was right. They needed the time to adjust, to help the headmate who had once been Amahl adjust to becoming... Avi.

Avi is still figuring himself out, too. He doesn't look like Farouk anymore, to everyone's relief. He looks like one of them, a David, and around the other David's apparent age. Without Farouk's memories, he's a mixture of their teenage self-harm fragments, along with his months of memories of being Amahl, of being someone older who became friends with older mutants like Hank and Forge, researching mutant powers together. Of being someone who struggled against his inherited impulses and learned ways to change how he thought, driven by a possessive love for the other David.

Avi and the other David aren't together, not the way Amahl and the other David were. Avi is young and his anger is sharp and raw. The other David had to grieve twice over, first letting Farouk go, and then Amahl.

Amy was right to make sure they had time to work through that. It was hard for all of them. Even Davey, who still doesn't seem to be entirely aware that they're a system, that he's not the actual child David Haller.

It bothers David, the distance between them. He wants Davey to be fully with their system. He wants the two of them to be closer, just as he wants to be closer to the other David. But they're separate for good reasons. They can't force themselves closer if they're not ready, and they won't try to force Davey to fully understand his situation before he's ready. Davey is happy at the mansion, happy being a mutant child at a school for mutant children, happy having adopted himself into the Debussy family, much to Clark's accepting but continued bewilderment.

Davey loves the trips into deep space. Oliver comes with them, as Davey's attached himself to Oliver and Melanie, too. It's easy for them to bring Oliver with them, though Oliver prefers to wear a space suit when he joins them. They can easily protect him without it, but just in case. No one but them has the power to go unprotected in the vacuum of space.

No one but them has the power to do a lot of things. After their big interview last year, a lot of people became very nervous about them, and a lot of them still are. The mere existence of the Haller system is still both the best reason for mutant rights and the best reason for mutant extinction. Ptonomy has done his best to insulate them from most of it, but it's impossible not to notice when so much of the resounding burble is thinking about David Haller.

The first week after that interview was when David started going to the moon, to get away from the noise he can't stop himself from hearing. He has their inner world, too, as an internal refuge, when he locks the door. He's glad to have both, uses both, but he prefers to stay on Earth and in the physical world as much as he can.

The resounding burble is back at it today, though. The anniversary of their big interview. People are talking about them again, making even more people think about them.

The interview was, all things considered, a success. Telling their story earned them a huge amount of sympathy, especially from the people who had their memories of mutant family and friends restored to them. It put fuel in the fire of outrage that burned away the Divisions and their supporters, and Ptonomy and Emma and countless other mutants and sympathetic humans were ready to use it to push for change.

For David and Dvd and Divad, it was cathartic, but also hard and painful and humiliating and a dozen other things. And both Davids had to hear the aftermath, had no choice but to hear it.

After a lifetime of hearing cruel voices, real thoughts and false ones created by Farouk, to have the whole world thinking about him was just-- Beyond overwhelming. So he hid in their inner world with Dvd, and the other David hid with Amal. They left their body with Divad. And when David couldn't face Dvd's worried expression anymore, David fled to the moon.

Oliver intervened, started to help both Davids learn how to manage their telepathy properly. Oliver knew was it was like to be driven to isolation by other people's painful thoughts, and was determined to keep it from happening again, to himself and other telepaths.

And soon enough, the world moved on. Started thinking about the rest of their lives again, all the mundane business of humanity. The resounding burble became much easier to ignore, and David got back to the work of healing himself and his system, little by little.

Melanie and Oliver and the Karies reopened Summerland, and Amy and David moved there with Dvd. Amahl, the other David, and Davey stayed in the mansion, and Divad split his time between the two locations. The physical distance hardly means anything when they're all still one system, but it does make the time they share together less strained.

Syd came to Summerland, too. She came back with Melanie, after the two of them went off alone together for weeks.

Syd and David mutually avoided each other for a while, both giving each other space, unsure if there was even anything to fix between them. But eventually Dvd had enough of things being so awkward and told David to just talk to her already, so he did.

Which is one reason why, despite how much the interview anniversary makes him want to hide on the moon forever, David sighs, stands, and projects himself back to his office in Summerland.

Having an office, a place where he works, is still a novelty for him. Not that he does much of his actual work here. But it feels good to have a place that's just his here in the physical world, too. And he's been decorating it, like he's been gradually changing his room in their inner world.

He has an in and out tray. He has a cup full of pens. He has a moon rock for a paperweight. He has a laptop so Ptonomy and Amy and the space agencies can send him emails.

On his walls are framed items. Three index cards, with the names David, Dvd, and Divad on them. A photo of the Haller family from Amy's photo albums. A series of brain scans, showing Dvd and David and Divad's brainwaves, and the brain damage from their missing memories. Syd's drawing of David asleep on a bean bag chair, and her sketches of Dvd and Divad. There's new photos, various combinations of his system and his friends and Amy, happy together, working, asleep on the sofa after a busy day.

In a locked drawer are his notebooks, with all the foundation work, all the therapy work he's done. And there's more notebooks, empty and waiting to be filled.

On his desk is a framed photo of himself and Dvd together, smiling. And the fully restored rocket lamp, beautiful and blue.

And then Dvd is behind him, his arms wrapping around David's waist.

"Done moping?" Dvd asks, close at his ear.

"Yes," David admits.

"Good," Dvd says, and kisses his cheek. Dvd lets him go, then slaps him on the butt, affectionately. David gives a startled squeak and then goes right for Dvd's most ticklish spot on his belly, which happens to be all of their most ticklish spot, but that's what he gets for being the one in their body right now.

They trade off regularly, him and Dvd and Divad. The physically younger headmates don't like being in their body much, since it doesn't match their astral forms. So mostly it's just the three of them taking turns. The biggest difference between being embodied or a projection is that they have to be careful with their physical body around Syd.

Dvd and David's tussle ends with a proper kiss, and then David sighs, rests their foreheads together.

"They're thinking about us," David admits. He can't help but hear it.

"Let em think," Dvd says. Then he gently prods at David's mental barriers. "You want me to get Oliver?"

David shakes his head. He and the other David spent days with Oliver, preparing for the anniversary. Despite being able to hear, Davey doesn't seem to really hear what the world is thinking about them. A protective benefit of his continued dissociation.

Today is rough for Oliver, too, having to hear the debate over mutant rights flaring up again, with everything that brings. Oliver's with Melanie today, the two of them getting through this together. Divad is with the other David, helping him through it. And David has Dvd, and Syd, and Lenny. He's grateful for all of them, and he shares his gratitude with Dvd now, to reassure him that David really is okay.

'Yeah, me too,' Dvd thinks back to him. Then says aloud, "I'm gonna get our body so drunk at Lenny's tonight."

"You earn the hangover, you keep it," David warns. It's only fair.

"Nah, I'll get Divad to fix us up," Dvd says. "He loves doing that shit."

"Or he might let you suffer to spite you," David says. The two of them will probably never stop bickering, no matter how much better they all get along.

"Then I'll get our body pierced," Dvd threatens. He gestures at their chest. "I was thinking about a nipple ring. Maybe both, what do you think? Belly button? Lower?"

"Please no," David sighs.

Dvd loves to threaten to get piercings or tattoos or dye their hair, and one of these days he's actually going to do it. But probably not today, of all days. He's just teasing, trying to cheer David up. And of course it's working.

They leave David's office and walk out into the halls. The mutants here are thinking about the anniversary, too, but not for the interview. For the moment they got their people back, their friends and families and communities. When the terrible wounds the Divisions inflicted on them started to heal.

It doesn't matter to them that Farouk was the one who destroyed the Divisions in one last act of revenge. They don't think about Farouk at all. And why would they? He's just a footnote in the story of mutantkind, receding into the past, and it's the future that everyone here is so excited about.

When Summerland was reopened, and Melanie was away with Syd, it was Oliver and Cary who made it what it is now. Like before, it's a haven for mutants. But instead of rushing past the damage, pushing mutants to ignore their mental wounds, healing those wounds is the focus. There are other systems here, even human ones, as Cary made their care a priority.

Cary isn't here today, but David can check on him easily, even amid the noise of the day. He and Kerry are visiting their family back home, along with Minnie. Cary's a lot less anxious about his visits there lately, and happier. Cary's also made it a priority to find Native mutants across the tribes, and David has made sure that a good chunk of his space money goes to funding the support network that Cary has created.

David and the Karies patched things up soon after the interview, after Cary created his brand new and much younger body. Cary was extremely nervous and proud of his changed appearance. It was an adjustment, but a minor one, really. Cary is still Cary, and David is grateful that Cary was forgiving enough to leave the Joonam disaster in the past.

It doesn't hurt that David will take Cary into space whenever he wants. David mostly just enjoys being out there for the experience, but Cary gets very excited about all the science. Kerry has to come along on their space walks, since the two can't be that far apart, but mostly she and Dvd pass the time play-fighting in zero-g.

As they turn the corner, David is startled by a Vermillion. He never can hear them coming, like he does everyone else.

"Admiral," Dvd greets.

"Today is extremely busy," the Vermillion tells them.

"Ah, yeah," David agrees.

This Vermillion is only one of many, scattered all over the world. The Admiral has become the backbone of the mutant global network, using their vast awareness to help the mutants they'd been forced to help the Divisions harm. The Admiral's physical body is an unreadable as the Vermillion, but they do seem content with their work.

"Sydney Barrett is waiting for you in the cafeteria," the Vermillion tells him. Then before he can answer, they nod and walk away.

"Chatty," Dvd says, dryly. "I guess we're going to the cafeteria."

"I guess we are," David says.

When the Admiral says jump, they say how high. It's working pretty well so far.

Syd is indeed in the cafeteria, staring out the large glass windows at the forest that surrounds Summerland. The anniversary has made her reflective. She spent the last few days with Melanie, in her Melanie-bot, as Dvd named Melanie's prosthetic body. But now Melanie is back in her own body and off with Oliver, and Syd is here.

"Hey," Syd greets. She stares at them, trying to figure out which one of them has their body. She's convinced she can tell the difference without getting close enough to feel needles under her skin, but so far her odds are 50-50.

"It's me," Dvd says.

"Oh," Syd says, a little disappointed that she didn't get to guess. But then she's pleased. She walks up and hugs David, and holds him for almost a full minute.

Syd's come a long way with her fear of touch. These days they're working on her touch starvation. David likes the long hugs, too.

"Hey," David greets, when she lets him go.

David wouldn't say his relationship with Syd is unrecognizable from where it was a year ago. But they've both changed a lot, healed a lot. Syd is far less angry these days, and David far less afraid.

They're happy. There's still things they're both working on, but they're happy.

David still tries his best to respect Syd's privacy, but of course it's impossible for him to not hear. He doesn't pretend he isn't hearing things, though, not anymore. He's learned to be-- Carefully honest, with Syd and everyone else. Oliver's helped a lot with all that. Oliver's been amazing. And so has Melanie.

Melanie and Syd-- It's sweet how close they are now. Melanie makes a better mother for her than Syd's real mom, at least based on what he saw in Syd's memories. A lot better.

Maybe if Syd's mom was still alive, they could have patched things up, too. Helped each other. But some things just aren't meant to be. Not everyone is as lucky as David.

That evening, he and Syd and Dvd teleport over to Lenny's for a completely relaxed non-anniversary party. She's comfortably shacked up with a cute married couple in a seaside town, living a blissfully normal life. She said she needed normal human shit for a while, especially after Oliver gave her back her real memories. No weirdness, no hallucinations. She wanted to know exactly what was real, so she could hold on to that while she got her head figured out.

David visits her as much as she lets him. He misses her being there every day, being his rock. But she needs to take care of herself, for someone else to be her rock, someone completely separate from all the insane bullshit. And she found two someones, which is even better. David's really happy for her.

They all eat together and talk about anything but what happened a year ago. They watch an old movie and drink beer and smoke a little pot, just to take the edge off.

As the evening winds down, David and Lenny both step out for some fresh air. They walk over to the boardwalk and sit on the wooden planks.

David can feel that she's good. And that makes him feel good, too.

He makes a pack of Twizzlers and offers it to Lenny. She opens it, and they split it, and watch the waves roll in.

Notes:

And that brings us to the end of this huge journey! Thank you so much to Mossomness and Shyanne, my wonderful beta readers. And a huge thank you to all of you, my readers, whose comments and support helped me all the way to the end. Happy endings for everyone!

Notes:

Comments and kudos feed the author, which feeds the story! ^_^

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