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"Hey, Jade?" John called, hands pushing lightly against a half-opened door. "Oh─ sorry, didn't know you were in here."
"S'okay, bonnet boy. I know how it is. Trying to sneak some glances of my sweet ethereal ass by barging in. I'd do that same in your position," Davesprite said. He was sitting up in bed, tail draped over the site and palms flat against the sheets, looking like a man freshly out of prison and with no idea what to do next.
"I can't sneak a thing past you, birdbrain."
"You got that right, little boy blue."
"Creamsicle"
"Hoodlum."
"Safety cone."
"Shit, is that Eggland's best?" Davesprite asked, his shoulders shifting and shrugging as he rolled them, his body settling back against the pillows.
"Says the guy who brought up my hood."
"Dude, it's pretty dopey."
"Dave practically has a fruity red glove for a hood and I don't hear you ragging on him."
"I work it flat out fierce and you know it."
"Ugh, whatever, Davesprite."
"How many bees you got in that bonnet of yours? I bet a metric fuckton. While everyone was running around screaming that they were disappearing, they were really just swarming to you."
"Ha ha," John croaked, voice tired and low, too far back in his nose. "You're too much, really. I could listen to you go on for days, but I'm sorta looking for Jade. You seen her around?"
"Depends," Davesprite said, tail idly curling.
John wished he had some sort of body language basics for birds book. Not that birds had funny serpent tails. Maybe body language basics for sprites would be better. At least he'd have half an idea of what was going on in Davesprite's head, whether or not he was about to inadvertently blow it or if they were cool.
"I want to talk to her, that's all," John said.
"Is it about that hive currently tucked away in your bonnet?"
"Kinda-sorta."
"So that's it, huh? The Egberts and the bees. Well, last I checked, dogs made pretty good listeners, but they aren't so hot on comforting unless you want them tonguing your face like it's slathered with peanut butter."
"And you think a bird would be much better?"
"I figure they call it the birds and the bees for a reason."
John snickered. "You practically used that one three seconds ago, you can't whip it out again so soon."
"Hmm, yeah. That's true. I should leave the joke-ruining to you. "
John smiled weakly at that. "Yeah, you do that. I'll keep snooping around for Jade."
"What's so good about her?"
"It's not like a─ a thing where one of you is better than the other, okay? I only want to talk to her since, like, no offense, but I'd prefer to sort this stuff out with someone who pretty much went through the same deal."
"The same deal? Are you kidding me? Join the club, bro, you're the newest member. We meet at the community center every Tuesday around eight, free coffee and donuts on a first- come first-serve basis."
"Man, I'm being serious," John said.
"So am I.
"Look, John. If it were up to me they'd slap you with a pamphlet once your dumb ass somehow managed to make it through. The Medium and You, arial font, maybe. Sneak in some comic sans on the side. Anyway─ first thing I'd put would be─"
"I think I'm gonna go─"
"You made it. You fucking made it. Proud of yourself? Not for long you won't be. Welcome to the Medium, please enjoy the complimentary despair, and the knowledge that you'll get to see all your loves ones bite the dust and promptly follow suit."
"Whoa, Davesprite. Chill, okay? I didn't mean to bust in on your nap or anything, so you don't have to get all up my butt about it, sheesh. Sorry that I'd rather open up to someone who can actually give a flying fuck."
"You got me there," Davesprite said, and his face was impossible to read. There wasn't even anything to read, no twitch or tensed muscle, no raised eyebrow or set jaw. He was a blank page with no writing to decipher. "Captchalogued those puppies and popped them out after I hauled ass back in time to save the most gullible goober ever to goob. You probably don't remember that though, do you? So many thoughts running through that nubby brain of yours it's easy to leave out Dave 'I forgot about him' Sprite."
John cringed at Davesprite's words, fingers clutching at the doorway, quick-bitten nails working against the wood. That had been a pretty stupendously shitty thing of him to say. Between the endless stress and nerves and fighting, social graces and the ability to filter brain-words before they became mouth-words had suffered a serious breakdown in their respective sectors.
Their repair was put on an indefinite hold, every free brain cell already working nonstop to keep the reality of what his life had become from setting in. It was wearing at his mind like sea waves churning against a cliff side, patient and ceaseless, something easily ignored until one day the cliff side tumbled right into the ocean, swallowed up with a splash and that was it.
For now though, it was an unrealized future, the last in the pack with John's combined urge to blab and cry and sleep all neck and neck at the front. They were so closely intertwined it was impossible to extricate one from the other, like a tangled knot of Christmas lights. The winner would be a photo finish.
"How many flies you planning to catch with your mouth hanging open like that, Egtwerp? Did my mad spiel leave you speechless?"
John blinked owlishly, tongue running along chapped, raw lips before he he got his mouth moving .
"Man, I think I'm outtie. I'm not super in the mood to get ragged on by a cheesepuff, so I'm gonna crash."
"No," Davesprite said, tail coiling tighter than ever before, an Ouroboros eating itself.
"Uh, what?"
"You're not going to crash. You're going to be a chicken shit and toddle after Jade so you can pour your heart out to her, since she's obviously the sole person on this ship who could have the tiniest inkling of what you're going through. Not me, though. Nope. Not like good ol' Dave Spriter."
John's pulse jumped, thudded in his ears as irritation bit into his heart.
"Dude, why are you being such an asshole?"
"Because that's all you think I can be. Cool, asshole Dave. Completely incapable of empathy or any other possible emotion, like I haven't seen all sorts of shit on my end. I mean, how the fuck did you think I knew you'd died for starters? No telegrams or carrier pigeons for this bad boy. I got the pleasure of finding you myself."
John's throat went dry at Davesprite's words, rough and scratchy and with a phantom prickling like something was crawling up it. This was how Davesprite came to be, after all. A phoenix rising from the ashes of John's death with the sole intention of preventing what had been the event to cause his birth.
To John it was a nonevent, something he couldn't recall because it never happened─ not anymore. Davesprite said he'd died, been a big doofus and ate it, and that was it. There was never a discussion of details, the nitty gritty full of it laid out for John to wrap his head around. It never sunk in as a reality, instead something far off and fictional, the death of a nameless extra soldier in a Hollywood war flick.
"Man, that was some exorcist shit," Davesprite said, the ruff of feathers around his neck rising. "Head all twisted around like an owl. Took me five fucking minutes to figure out you weren't face up. Well, you were. That was the problem, actually. The rest of you wasn't buying it."
John's grip slackened on the doorframe, arms falling uselessly to his sides. There was the smallest shake at the end of Davesprite's words, a half-note quiver followed by a rest. Was this a moment? Was cucumber-cool Davesprite about to have a moment?
Before the game, before all this, John had wanted to see Dave have a moment. Wanted to see some proof that the put-together exterior was just that─ an exterior. That on the inside Dave was human as the rest of them, with fears and insecurities and an off-switch to his coolkid act.
Now though, John wanted that poker face in place. If even Dave cracked, how could the rest of them keep it together?
"People always say how their gramps or aunt or whoever the hell looked all peaceful in death. Like they're sleeping, resting. You get it in your head that's what death looks like. Maybe that's how it is, but you don't play by the rules, do you, Egbert? Always got a prank up your sleeve to keep things lively."
John moved closer to the bed, closing the gap between him and Davesprite. The mattress dipped under his weight as he sat, its softly creaking springs the only noise in the room. Davesprite tilted his head back against the headboard, knocking against it with a sigh that shivered weakly.
"You were laid out like you could've fit right into one of those crime scene chalk drawings. And I just─ I don't know. I don't even know. Before that I figured a body could only look like so many things. Then you waltz along and flop down like some boneless idiot doing his best impression of a windmill. Shit was not cash, bro.
"I mean, here I am busting my ass to try and find you, and figuring that, hey, despite all the hassle at least we'll get to meet. Maybe get a fist bump in or a noogie in. Nope. Wrong. You just stared up at me like I'd been the one to do it to you. I come charging in expecting to see your stupid-ass beaver teeth shooting me a thirty-two tooth salute, and you didn't even have the decency to remember keeping the lower half of your face still connected to your person."
Tongue flicking along to roof of of his mouth, John nodded dumbly along with Davesprite's words. He was blowing this hardcore, sitting around and bobbing his head as Davesprite opened up, shrugged the act and hung up his coat for one brief moment. Saying something would be a good idea. Probably.
"Look, Egbert. I know that you can't sleep without socks on. I know you pour oreos into a bowl and add milk to make whacked out diabetes-giving cereal. You hit the crosswalk button nonstop until the walking man comes on, and once you ate a pair of wax lips. So here's my question: how do you think I know all this?"
The answer sprung from John's tongue without a beat for breath.
"'Cause you're Dave."
"Bingo. Hitting that nail on the head with a ridiculous hammer, that's you. Pick whichever toy you'd like, kid. Want the oversized gorilla? He's yours. Maybe the unicorn for your lady friend? I'm Dave. Not some imposter Dave, or not-real Dave, and sure I got my sprite on, but that doesn't change a thing. If I hear your call me anything but Dave one more time, I will take that flamboyant hood of yours and make you dance the jig of the gallows. We clear?"
"Yeah, dude. Mondo clear. Like, Crystal Pepsi-clear," John said, and something about the way Davesprite─ no, Dave rolled his shoulders it was like he'd shrugged a great weight and was enjoying the newfound weightlessness.
Lint became suddenly and impossibly fascinating after Dave stopped speaking. John plucked each nearly microscopic piece from his pant leg, smoothed out folds and creases in search of more. He didn't know what else to do. Dave was apparently done, had gone back to looking like a reclining wax statue with no movement.
John raised a hand to stifle a yawn, body tensing as he fought it. He was about ready to crash right there if Dave didn't give him the go ahead to beat it. You just didn't listen to someone talk about finding your dead body, nod along, and then beat it. That make-believe pamphlet Dave had mentioned earlier was sounding pretty good. There would have to be a section of how to deal with this sort of thing, or at least locations of places that provided greeting cards that could adequately express them in place of John's very much missing eloquence.
Sorry you got to see a bloody, pulpy mess that vaguely resembled me. Hope you stop having nightmares about it sooner than later! My condolences are with you.
Maybe a card wouldn't be too helpful.
"Well?" Dave said, breaking John free from the sample cards he was hard at work creating.
"Well, what?"
"Dude, not only did I spill the beans, I spilled twenty-seven different kinds of beans. Including pinto, lima, a rare hybrid of fava and black beans, and a hitherto unknown species of bean. And after all that you're going to sit around playing with yourself and yawning? Bro code compels you to do some spillage of your own, Egbert."
John rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, nodding along with Dave's words.
"Fine, I'll cough up some beans too. But scooch your bird butt over first, 'cause it's hogging up the bed."
Dave shifted on the bed, easing away to open a spot beside him. John toed off his shoes and flopped down with a huff on his side, hands tucked up to his chest. He nestled himself into the spot where Dave's other wing should have been, the frames of his glasses pressing into the side of his face as he dropped his head.
"Where do I even start?" John said around a sigh.
"Wherever you want, but I don't want to hear a peep out of you how not-gay you are by being in bed with another dude."
"Hey, man. You're the one going around bringing it up."
"Drop it, dork for brains."
"Okay, okay. Sorry, sheesh, I didn't mean to get your feathers all ruffled. But I mean, I guess it'd be kind of expected, what with being cooped up like this."
"We are not going down this path," Dave said.
"What path? Do you wanna just wing it instead?"
"Oh my god."
"Don't get all up in a huff, dude. I'm not going to start walking on eggshells around you."
"Holy shit, your old man deserves to be knighted for putting up with you."
"Come on, you know you love them," John said, toes tickling against Dave's tail. The consistency of it was impossible to pin down with words, instead a sensation composed of warmth and not quite reality.
"Yeah, but like a mother loves a pig-ugly kid. I'm practically obligated to, I don't get a choice."
John chuckled at that, the sound ending in a yawn. There was the rustle of feathers as Dave turned his head, the hands clasped over his stomach loosening as he reached over, pinching the bridge of John's glasses. John shut his eyes tight instinctively, lashes twitching as Dave pulled his glasses away, their arms clinking as he folded them.
"Ready to get down to the nitty gritty, John?" Dave asked, and when John opened his eyes, Dave's shades were gone too, eyes a hazy red blur to John.
"Born ready," John said with a nod, eyes half-lidded as his exhaustion gained a second wind.
"Lay it on me then, John-boy."
"Bluh, I still don't know where to start."
"Since when have you had trouble puking up every word to enter your brain? You don't have to start at the legit start, just go."
"Fine," John said. "We have to win. We have to─ to fix all this."
"Deep, man. And here I was thinking you loved the game. Thinking you wanted to court it all proper, buy it flowers and hold the door for it, pull some dumb stunt before you asked it to marry you."
"Urgh, shut up. See? This is totally why I go to Jade about this sorta stuff."
"I can't help it if you're going to be obvious. Instead of being all vague and ridiculous, why not actually tell me your beefs?"
"Because they'll pretty much sound a hundred times more dumb."
"Try me," Dave said.
"Okay, well like, this is so dumb─ but I miss hugs─ and like, yeah. That sort of stuff."
John waited for the inevitable, a sharp jeering laugh or derisive snort. He waited for the mocking imitation of his voice, repeating the words twice as high as he'd spoken them. What came next was instead a quiet silence, punctuated on occasion as Dave's tail coiled restlessly.
"Feel free to elaborate on that any time, broham," Dave said, voice gently pulling away the veil of sleep that was creeping over John's mind.
"Uh, 'kay. I guess I figured that even though all this game stuff blows chunks, I'd get to see you and Rose and Jade. And like, we'd hug or something. But all we do is stand around like idiots without arms, I swear. And you'd figure after everything we've been through, hugging would be pretty high up on the priority list."
"Is this a roundabout way or saying you basically want a hug from the King of Cool?" Dave asked.
"I'd take a hug from anything with a pulse right about now," John said. "No questions asked."
"Well then. Come one, come all, step right up the the amazing hugging machine. The technical wonder never before seen, thought to be a myth until recently."
"Er, what?"
"Buckle up, bro, because we're about to get our hug on."
Next thing John knew, Dave was working his hands under his arms, hoisting him closer. He gave an unhelpful wriggle, unsure of what went where and how it was all supposed to work out. Eventually he found himself settled halfway on Dave's chest, one hand limply falling against the ruff of feathers at his neck. John absently worked his fingers into it, nails scritching against flesh punctuated by feathers.
"This work for you?" Dave asked. He roped one arm around John's shoulder, keeping him from sliding off as the flat on his hand pressed into John's back. The circles he rubbed against John were barely there, light as air.
"Hmm, I dunno. Not sure you were being honest with the mythic angle. Give me a few minutes and I'll get back to you."
"Your satisfaction guaranteed, or your money back," Dave said.
When John hiked his leg up on Dave, there was no rebuke. Instead there was the alien warmth of Dave's tail as it wound around his ankle, tethering him where he was. The hand on his back stilled, turned into a comfortable weight that settled between his shoulder blades.
"Anything else bothering you?" Dave asked. "Or are you happy with drooling the night away on me?"
John snorted, the sound turning to a shortened choke as he found there was a dampness beneath where his head lay.
"Sorry," he said quickly, wiping at the edge of his mouth.
"S'cool. Any more babble chat for tonight, or are you going to conk out?"
"I think I still got some babble chat in me."
"All systems go, then."
"Okay, so file this under more dumb stuff, but there's way too much I'm going to miss if we don't fix everything. Like─ like Sunday matinees. And movies in general."
"Trolls have movies."
"There's no way they're the same, though."
"True that. Shit's probably worse than those weird French flicks they show. Jesus, those are a head trip."
"Yeah, and even if they're pretty okay, there still won't be any more Nic Cage flicks."
"Isn't that a plus?" Dave teased, fingertips tapping a soft rhythm against John's back.
"No way, that's like a triple minus or something."
John's fingers curled in Dave's feathers, absently moving, brushing along the stem from base to tip before moving to the next one.
"There are some positives, at least," Dave broke in.
"Like?"
"No more Applebee's"
"You have a point there, I can't argue."
"No more bowling," Dave said.
"I kinda like bowling."
"You would, wouldn't you?"
"Yup, it's right up my alley. Heh."
Dave groaned as he raised his hand, playfully flicking the back of John's head before he dropped it back down. "I'm going to choke you out with my tail if you keep it up."
"Fine, fine," John sighed, smiling against Dave's chest.
Dave's heart was a pulsing thud in his ear─ tip tip tip─ fluttering and hummingbird-fast. With each breath his chest rose and fell, steady and even, John's breathing soon taking the same pace. He slipped in and out of a slight sleep, mind sparking to life every few minutes, body giving a twitch as he tried to rouse himself. Each time Dave's hand pressed on his back, gently kept him from rising.
John wondered, with all of Dave's time-tripping antics, how long it'd been since he got his hug on. Too long, that was for sure. The both of them needed to stock up for the long road ahead, keep each touch and squeeze close, hoard them like canned food in a bomb shelter.
"I thought of a good thing," John mumbled between snatches of sleep.
"Can't wait to hear this no doubt priceless nugget of knowledge."
"Well, if we hadn't had to go through all this, I wouldn't have been able to meet you. Or at least, not so soon. I kinda like the whole not-waiting part of this."
"Go to bed, John," Dave said.
"I meant that for real," John insisted
"You're too tuckered out to think straight, you don't know what you're saying. Tell me again in the morning and maybe I'll buy it then."
John mumbled wordlessly at that, nodding against Dave's chest as his eyes shut one last time, his entire body relaxing as he barely registered the Dave had returned to stroking his back. The faraway feeling of the petting sending him swiftly in a deep slumber, free of dreams or nightmares or thoughts, filled only with a restful blackness that overtook his exhaustion.