Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter One:

"I'm tiiiiired. And my knee hurrrrts,” Russell whined.

Carl resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Which knee?"

Brief pause. "...My elbow hurrrrts. And I have to go to the bathroom."

"I asked you about that five minutes ago!"

"Well, I didn't have to go then!"

It was wishful thinking, asking Russell to play "See Who Can Be Quiet the Longest," while he took his house to the correct side of the falls, and truth be told, he didn’t expect the impromptu game to last longer than a few minutes.

Heck, the fact the kid lasted over half an hour was honestly kind of impressive. 

But beyond that, 78 year old Carl Fredricksen found himself ready to explode. Between his aching bones, his malfunctioning hearing aid, the toil of tugging a literal house behind him, and his unwilling traveling partner complaining every five seconds, his already thin patience was on a knife’s edge.

It didn't help that he heard a large thump behind him as said unwilling partner fell to the ground.

In a muffled tone, clearly obstructed thanks to dirt in his mouth, Russell moaned, "I don't wanna walk anymore. Can we stop?"

"Russell!" Carl snapped. "If you don't hurry up, the tigers will eat ya!"

"There's no tigers in South America." Russell replied, briefly turning on his back. "Zoology." He then proceeded to flop back on his face.

Carl, finally giving up, rubbed his face with his hand, soothing the tension in his forehand. "Ah, for the love of Pete. Go on into the bushes and do your business."

And just like that, Russell was up, as if the previous conversation had never happened. “Ok! Here, hold my stuff!”

Bouncing with energy, he shoved his backpack into Carl's hands, tied his end of the rope to a nearby tree, and bounded off, a shovel and leaves at the ready. Carl exhaled quietly, content to just sit down and enjoy some peace and quiet, even if just for a minute. But before he left, he heard Russell utter, "I've always wanted to try this."

'I don't wanna hear it. I don't wanna hear it,' Carl thought to himself.

"Mr. Fredricksen," Russell said from a distance, "Am I supposed to dig the hole before, or after?"

And now Carl REALLY didn't want to hear it. "Ehh, none of my concern!"

"Oh," Russell paused, "It's befoooore!"

"LALALALALALALALA…"

Meanwhile, not far from where Carl sat, a certain Wilderness Explorer was just finishing his very important business. Patting the pile with his shovel, the young boy breathed out a sigh of relief. A job well done, indeed.

Figuring he still had a few minutes before Mr. Fredricksen got worried, Russell decided to take a look at the nature surrounding him. The ferns, fauna, and various other tropical plants were interesting enough in the pictures in his Wilderness Explorer handbook, but there was something about seeing them in person that made Russell particularly excited.

'I wonder if Mr. Fredricksen will let me take some leaves home with me for my collection,' Russell thought absentmindedly.

He brushed through several overhanging branches, hoping that somewhere, he would find something a little more exotic to take home, like perhaps some bamboo. He didn't have a pocket knife or anything sharp to cut it with, but maybe Mr. Fredricksen did. After all, he did have his entire house just a few hundred feet away. And the man was suuuuper old. He probably had tons of tools and knickknacks lying around. 

Coming into an opening, Russell was surprised to find some very interesting patterns in the sand in front of him. They were three pronged and lengthy, with a shorter fourth prong facing the other way. They almost looked like…

“Tracks?”

Most definitely bird tracks, but he knew from his handbook that no birds existed with tracks like that. So that could only mean one thing.

"Snipe!"

Back at the floating home, Carl was busy tightening the straps that held the house to the tree. Even if he were fifty years younger, he wouldn't have wanted to be tied to something that heavy forever. A sturdy tree more than made up for his lack of strength.

'Say, I wonder where Russell is. The kid’s been taking an awful lot of time just to use the bathroom.'

"I found the Snipe!"

Speak of the devil.

Carl decided to humor the boy. "Oh, did you?"

"Are they tall?" Russell asked.

"Oh yes, they're very tall."

"Do they have a lot of colors?"

An oddly specific question, but okay. "They do indeed!"

"Do they like chocolate?"

"Oh yeah-chocolate?"

At that, Carl finally turned around to acknowledge Russell, and what he saw was not at all what he was expecting. A very tall, very colorful bird, exactly how Russell described it, stared back at him, and squawked loudly. Carl wasn't fooled by the way Russell looked at it with a level of fondness, it looked like it could kill. And kill very easily.

"Ah! What is that thing?!" Carl screamed.

"It's a Snipe!" Russell chirped happily.

Carl quickly grabbed Russell and started dragging him away from the frightful bird. "There's no such thing as a Snipe!" Whatever it was, they needed to run before they became the bird's next meal.

But the Snipe in question wasn't having any of it. Hissing at Carl, it snatched Russell in its mouth and began playing with him, cuddling the boy and tossing him higher and higher in the air, only to catch him at the last second. It would've been kind of cute had Carl not been scared out of his wits. There wasn't much he could do against something that size, but he had to protect the boy somehow.

Using his walker, he futilely jabbed multiple times at the monstrous creature, but it was only effective enough to annoy. Soon enough, the bird's hissing became more and more intense, before it finally put Russell down and focused its attention on the old man. Narrowing its beady black eyes, it puffed its feathers out, seemingly growing in size, and clicked its beak. Carl backed up in fear, his back hitting the tree behind him, but before he could be attacked, Russell came to his aid.

"Nonononono, Kevin!" Russell said, running in front of Carl. "It's okay. Mr. Fredricksen is nice." He patted Carl on the head for good measure.

"Kevin?" Carl asked incredulously.

"Yeah," Russell replied. "That's his name I just gave him."

Now calmer and seemingly satisfied with Russell's claim, the bird squawked again and roughly bonked Carl on the head with its beak. Carl countered by again trying to shoo it away, but the creature responded by shoving his walker down its throat. So, one regurgitated cane and demeaning argument later, Carl gave up and put some distance between himself and "Kevin," going back to check on the ropes.

Russell, who was now using the bird as stilts, asked innocently, "Can we keep him? Please?"

'No.' Carl thought, but was too angry to say it out loud.

"I'll get the food for him. I'll walk him, I'll change his newspapers," Russell continued desperately.

"No." Carl said, this time aloud. What, did the kid think this was a pet he could take home with him? The…whatever it was was this close to ripping Carl apart thirty seconds ago.

Russell continued to protest, saying something about explorers being friends to all, but Carl at that point was too exasperated to listen. So, he tuned it out, turning his hearing aid as low as it could go without being off. Wrapping the ropes around his shoulders, he slowly continued his way through the forest, all the while ignoring how Russell and the newly named Kevin were trying to get his attention.

‘Just keep walking. Don’t look back. This’ll all be worth it in the end.’

“Mr. Fredricksen…”

‘Ignore him and maybe he’ll stop.’ Carl closed his eyes, feeling another headache forming.

“Mr. Fredricksen…”

‘What could he possibly need from me right now? Is asking for some time to my thoughts too much for…’

“MISTER FREDRICKSEN!”

Carl, now completely fed up, turned around sharply. “WHAT?! 

But, in his frustration, he didn’t take the time to actually take in what Russell was trying to get his attention about. Having not stopped walking, Carl’s outburst was snuffed as his feet slipped on a patch of mud. He waved his arms wildly in a desperate attempt to right himself, but it was to no avail, and he fell backwards, smacking against a much larger mud pile with a wet squelch. 

“Ugh, what the…”

Without thinking, Carl rolled over in an attempt to right himself, which only led to the same sticky mud now coating his front as well. In essence, he was now completely drenched. The old man gingerly got up, wiping his glasses with his jacket sleeve. “Great,” he grumbled. “Just terrific.”

Russell meanwhile, was struggling to hold back laughter. “Mr. Fredricksen, you fell in the mud.” 

“Thank you,” Carl said sardonically. “I never would’ve guessed.”

"I tried to tell you,” The boy gave an innocent shrug.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Obviously, the kid was right. But Carl wasn’t in the mood to admit it. So he settled for shaking his head vigorously, spraying mud in all directions. 

Russell put a hand to his chin in thought. “Maybe we oughta get you cleaned up first? I don’t think you’re gonna like having mud in your underwear.”

“Oh yeah,” Carl raised an eyebrow. “And how do you propose we do that?”

“Hmmmm…”

Suddenly, as if struck with inspiration, Russell looked up at the giant bird next to him. “Hey, Kevin! Do you know where we can find a lot of water?”

Kevin didn’t seem to respond at first, looking on with an eternally blank expression. But, without warning, it let out a loud squawk and grabbed Carl by his jacket, hoisting the old man onto its back. Carl attempted to protest, but the bird was already off, taking Russell along in the process. All Carl could do was hold onto Kevin’s neck for dear life. It was unnerving how quick this bird could be when it wanted to.

Thankfully the journey was mercifully short. Hardly two minutes had passed before the three arrived at a body of water accompanied by a flowing waterfall, not unlike the one by the falls, only on a smaller scale. Kevin screeched to a halt and allowed Russell to slide off its back. Carl only had a second to absorb the sight, before the bird once again grabbed him with its beak. 

“Wait, what are you doing?” Carl demanded, as his mind struggled to catch up. “Stop! No!”

But the bird didn’t listen. Without fanfare, Kevin flung the old curmudgeon directly into the lake, where he promptly began flailing wildly. As water sloshed over his head and into his mouth, a small part of Carl’s mind almost found it amusing that this was how he was going to leave the world, while another part was screaming obscenities he wouldn’t dare say out loud. 

Of course, at this precise moment, his feet touched the bottom of the lake. Blinking wet sludge out of his eyes, Carl stopped panicking and looked around him.

As it turned out, the lake was only about chest height. 

"Wonderful."

“Mr. Fredricksen?” A small voice broke his thoughts. Carl focused his gaze on a nearby Russell, who was looking at him with slight concern. Kevin, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with itself. “You okay in there?”

Frowning, the old man prepared to answer with a resounding “NO,” but in the moment, as he looked at the boy’s round face, he found he didn’t have it in him. Russell had only wanted to help after all. He was annoying, but he meant well. It wasn’t his fault the bird accompanying them was unpredictable. And the water, Carl realized, wasn’t all that uncomfortable. It was pleasantly warm, and it soothed his muscles, which had been aching terribly since they began their trek. He took a moment to dunk the top of his head once again underwater, running his hands through his hair. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Carl answered. Russell’s face relaxed at that. Kevin, in turn, let out another squawk. “A little shock to the system, but I’ll live.”

For a moment, no one said anything. They all looked at each other awkwardly, as if trying to figure out where to go from here. Carl absentmindedly rubbed his sopping wet arms, where the fabric of his shirt was clinging uncomfortably to his skin. First things first, he needed to get clean and dry.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” Carl spoke, “I’d like a little privacy.”

Russell smiled back at him. “No problem, Mr. Fredricksen!”

A while later, Carl was sitting by himself by the edge of the lake, wearing only his underwear. His clothes were sitting on a nearby rock beside him, soaking up the sun. In any other circumstance, he would’ve felt self conscious and exposed, but thankfully Russell had kept his word and given the old man some space, going off with Kevin to do god knows what. Attempting to get water out of his ear, Carl took the moment to really take in the atmosphere around him.

The lake was truly a beautiful sight. Roughly the size of several regulation swimming pools, the water glistened with an almost unnatural quality. Even in areas where the water wasn’t touched by the sun, it still shone and sparkled. And, Carl noticed, it was an unusual shade of blue. Much more saturated than expected. The shade reminded him of the balloons he always carried with him as a child, when he would run through the neighborhoods pretending to fly a plane. 

Like the one he had when he met Ellie for the first time.

The tiny smile that had begun forming on Carl’s lips promptly faded as he thought of his late wife. Or rather, the version of her that existed back then. The wild, energy filled little girl that captivated him from the very start, with her big green eyes and gap toothed grin. Carl swore he could still feel the ghost of her small hand grasping his, which back then, had caused him to blush furiously. 

“Oh, she would’ve loved this,” Carl mused, leaning back. He took in the foliage above him. Even that didn’t look quite right. It was a gorgeous sight, no doubt, but the lush green trees seemed more vibrant, and dare he say, healthier than the forests he had walked through earlier.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted though, when something heavy sounding landed next to him, causing his hackles to raise in alarm. He jerked his head to the side, only to find a pile of clothes by his leg, and an excited little boy beaming at him from above.

“Here you go, Mr. Fredricksen!” Russell exclaimed, shoving a pair of shoes into his arms. “I had Kevin get you these from inside your house!” 

Carl, in his shock, forgot to scold Russell for getting in his space, in his underwear no less, and merely accepted the clothes with a grateful smile. “Um, thanks.”

Kevin made a pleased screech from somewhere in the distance.

“Don’t forget to thank Kevin too!”

Carl suppressed a groan. ‘Is this what my life has come to?’ “Thanks, Kevin.”

A few minutes later, the old man was fully dressed again, in an outfit he could’ve sworn he hadn’t worn in decades, consisting of a white shirt, baby blue vest, deep black jacket, and tan pants. Whatever the case, it didn’t fit right. It was too loose and baggy around the legs and far too tight around the midsection. It also included a necktie, rather than the bowtie he was used to wearing in his older years. He didn’t even attempt to tie it; he knew he had never been any good at it. So he settled for stuffing it in his pants pocket.

“We’d better get going,” Carl said, adjusting his sleeves. “We’ve spent enough time here as it is. The sooner we get to the falls, the better.”

“Ok!” Russell exclaimed. He called out, “Kevin, c’mon boy!”

And soon enough, the three were off again. As the two humans held onto the bird with all their strength, Carl reflected on the day. He had expected to have a peaceful trip to South America, accompanied by nothing but his thoughts and memories. And somehow, without even trying, he had become saddled with a well-meaning but oblivious little boy, and a terrifyingly gigantic bird creature he still couldn’t get a read on. It was enough to drive any man his age to exhaustion.

But, to his surprise, Carl felt strangely refreshed. Maybe that dip in the lake had done more good than expected. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to relax. He took a deep breath, placing his hand over his chest. 

‘I’m gonna get us to the falls, Ellie. I swear it. Cross my heart.’

Meanwhile, right behind him, Russell looked on with slight confusion. He tilted his head to the side.

‘I thought Mr. Fredricksen's hair was whiter than that.’

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter Two:

“Well, thanks for keeping up dry anyway, Ellie.”

The rain splattered unrelentingly against the balloons supporting Carl's house, while the old man huddled underneath, cradling his shivering body for warmth. He glanced up with a worried frown. If the rain got any more intense, the balloons would no doubt pop, and then the house would sink to the ground and all his work would have been for nothing. Grumbling to himself, his reflected on how he got to this point.

After the unexpected bath in the forest, the trio of Carl, Russell, and Kevin had come across a more open landscape surrounded by oddly-shaped rocks. That’s where they had run into a dog named Dug. A dog that talked.

Some science mumbo-jumbo that Carl didn't wish to think about allowed a dog to produce human speech. And for some reason, the animal instantly latched on Carl, proclaiming him to be his new master.

Soon enough, the now quartet had devolved into a fit of arguing. Doug would not let go of Kevin. Kevin would not stop hissing at Doug in retaliation. Russell was stuck between asking Carl if he could keep both "pets," and loudly trying to break the bird and dog apart before they attacked each other.

Carl just wanted to be alone.

He could handle one companion. Russell was tolerable by himself. He had a good head on his shoulders and was generally pretty nice. But three companions, especially ones as strange as an exotic bird and a talking dog, were far too much.

Throughout it all, Carl couldn’t shake the sensation that something was off.

For one, he wasn’t tired. Despite how taxing it had been to even get this far, the old man felt bizarrely restless. His left leg had been pouncing in place for the better part of the last ten minutes, as if he had recently chugged a cup of coffee. His fingers kept clenching and unclenching, itching for something to occupy them. The muscles in his shoulders bunched up in his jacket, before he forced them to relax.

'I’m almost tempted to help Russell right now,' Carl thought. ‘Anything to get rid of all this energy.’

The young wilderness explorer was attempting to put together a tent nearby. Poorly, from the looks of it. It certainly didn’t fit the shape of a tent, and the poles were sticking out in odd places. Carl himself hadn’t built a tent since his childhood, so he wasn’t familiar with the modern designs. But he didn’t care at that moment. He just had to do something.

"Which one's the front?" The boy asked aloud.

Carl groaned.

"Is this step three, or step five?"

Russell put more pressure on the plastic tent poles, in an attempt to force them together. With a sudden snap, Carl flinched. That had to have left a mark.

"All done." Russell said, turning towards Carl. The tent poles had indeed left a mark. A very harsh, red mark. "That's for you."

The shoddily made tent promptly shot from its perch high into the air, as if ejected from a cannon. With a whistle, it plummeted down the nearby falls.

"Ohh, tents are hard," The boy sat down, dejected.

"Wait," Carl said, "aren't you super wilderness guy? With the GPM's and the badges?"

Almost ashamed, Russell shuffled his feet and looked at the ground. "Yeah, but...can I tell you a secret?"

"No."

"Alright," Russell continued, as if he hadn't heard anything. "Here goes...Ineveractuallybuiltatentbefore. There, I said it!"

Carl was surprised. A kid as confident and proud of his organization as Russell had never built a tent? Wasn't that one of the first steps to becoming a Wilderness Adventurer or something?

This sparked a back and forth conversation between the two that revealed more about the young boy than Carl had expected. Apparently, the lad didn't have the best family life. His parents were divorced, and he didn't speak to his father often. The step-mother seemingly could care less about him. So the kid was more or less living with just his mom.

‘Maybe that's why he wants to assist me so badly’ Carl observed. ‘Maybe if he gets that badge, his dad will finally show up for something.’

"But," Russell paused, "He promised he'd come to my Explorer ceremony, to pin on my Assisting the Elderly badge. So, he can show me about tents then, right?" That basically confirmed Carl's thoughts.

The child looked so sad, yet so hopeful at the same time.

"Hey um, why don't you get some sleep?" Carl asked, his voice softening. "Don't wanna wake up the um, traveling flea circus."

There was a brief pause.

"Mr. Fredicksen," Russell said, "Doug says he wants to take Kevin prisoner." He tightened his fists. "We have to protect him."

Carl tried not to squirm uncomfortably. Not because of what the kid said, but because something about him seemed really familiar. 

Yawning, Russell leaned down on the log and shut his eyes. "Can Kevin go with us?"

As much as he wanted to say no, Carl realized at this moment that he couldn't do it. So he answered, "Alright, he can come."

"Promise you won't leave him?"

"...Yeah."

"Cross your heart?"

Carl's eyes widened. It was amazing. Russell was just like Ellie. The curiosity, the kindness towards all living creatures, the stubbornness, the determination to do the right thing. They were all qualities that this nine year old shared with Carl's late wife. And they brought up all the feelings he had been trying to repress.

He had finally fulfilled his promise to take their house to South America, but Ellie wasn't there to experience it with him. As long as the memories of her remained, Carl knew she would never really be gone, but right now, he wanted nothing more but to hold her in his arms.

They had had their chances while she was alive. Years ago, they had attempted to save up for the trip. But somehow, life just kept getting in the way.

'I was so careless back then. I thought I had all the time in the world. If only I had checked my tire pressure, or not broken my leg, or fortified the house during that really bad storm.’

All those things and more, were reasons for melancholy. If he couldn't truly keep a pledge to his beloved Ellie, then how could he do it for a kid he barely knew? And yet...

"Cross my heart."

He didn't know why he said it. It's not even like he was confident that he could do it a second time around. But he had to try. He just had to. Ellie would’ve wanted him to.

"What have I gotten myself into, Ellie?"

A little later, Carl finally lay down on the rocks beside Russell and attempted to fall asleep, absentmindedly rubbing the area surrounding his heart. His ears ached as well, but he ignored it for the time being, shutting off his hearing aid. The thing had been wonky all day anyway. At least now, he could slumber in silence.

The next day, Carl found himself awoken by the croaking of a nearby frog. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, the old man slapped the frog on the head, effectively silencing it like an alarm clock. Sitting up, he put on his glasses and stretched out his limbs, the familiar cracks and aches making themselves present.

"Mornin', sweetheart," Carl mumbled up at the house. Looking more closely, he was concerned to see several of the outside balloons had begun to droop.

"We'd better get moving."

Grouching to himself, Carl, with his eyes still planted on the house, reached to his ear to turn his hearing aid back on. However, to his surprise, he found nothing in its place.

"Did it fall out while I was asleep? What the…"

Wait, how could he hear his own voice?

Looking around, Carl found the device on the ground right by his foot. He held it up to his face, eyes widening. He wasn't hallucinating. The gadget wasn't even on. And yet, as the sounds of birds chirping and leaves whistling in the breeze echoed around, he found he could hear everything perfectly.

"What in the world?"

His hearing was back? How was that possible? He had been depending on a hearing aid for several years. In fact, his left ear was too far gone to use one at all.

Was he still asleep? Maybe this was all some strange dream? Almost in a daze, Carl pinched his arm.

“Ouch!”

Okay, so it wasn’t a dream. That only left more questions.

"Where's Kevin?!" A loud voice interrupted Carl’s thoughts. Russell was awake. "He's wandered off!"

As it turned out, Kevin had been on Carl's roof, stowing away food for her babies. So, Kevin was a girl? Alright, fine. Russell insisted they follow Kevin to make sure she was properly reunited with her babies, but Carl pointed out that they had lost enough time already. The last thing they needed was for the house to suddenly lose its support and crash down on top of them.

Besides, there were more pressing matters for Carl to discuss right now.

Sadly, Russell held up his remaining chocolate to the old man. "This was her favorite chocolate." He swallowed pitifully. "Because you sent her away, there's more for you."

"Kid, I don't want any chocolate right now." Carl said pointedly. "I need to ask you something."

"What?"

Lowering his voice so that Dug wouldn't hear (hopefully) Carl whispered, "Did anything...weird happen while I was asleep last night?"

"Uh," Russell replied, scratching his head. "I don't think so. I mean, I'm a pretty light sleeper, so if anything had happened to you, I'd have known about it."

"Oh." Carl supposed that made sense. Russell did have a way of going from zero to 100 almost instantly, even in sleep. But that did nothing to erase his confusion. He looked down at his clenched fist.

Russell became worried at Carl's lack of response, talking fasters than normal. "Is everything okay, Mr. Fredricksen? Are you feeling dizzy, or short of breath? Do you need First Aid? Do you need CPR? How do you do CPR again?"

"No! No no no no!" Carl insisted, waving his hands in an attempt to pacify the distressed child. "I'm not sick or anything. I feel fine. Better than fine, even."

"Oh." Russell said, calming down. "Then what's the problem?"

Wordlessly, Carl held up the hearing aid to the kid's face.

"Wow!" Russell exclaimed, grabbing the device and marveling over it in his hands. "Is this one of those things that old people use to hear? Cause my grandpa used to say he wished he could turn his off whenever I came to visit. But then mom would yell at him, and…"

"Yes!" Carl interrupted, covering his ears. He was unused to the heavy volume that he could no longer mute. "That's what it is. I use it to hear!"

"But you can hear me right now, can't you?"

"Yes!" Carl said again, beginning to lose his patience. "That's the problem! I couldn't hear without it until this morning."

At this, Russell stopped, becoming more curious. "So what d'ya think fixed your ears, Mr. Fredricksen?"

"If I knew, do you honestly think I would be asking you?"

"No," Russell answered, looking down at the ground. "I guess not."

Russell looked back up again at Carl, and to the old man's bewilderment, pointed his finger directly above Carl's head.

"Do you think whatever did it made your hair look different, too?"

"My hair?" Carl questioned, weaving his hand through his scalp almost on reflex. "What does my hair have to do with this?"

But something made him stop. Looking upwards, he fingered the locks on his head more slowly. It shouldn't have felt this weird. He had worn his hair short for years. And even though it was still full, he knew it had begun to thin as he reached a more advanced age. But it certainly didn't feel like it was thinning. If anything, it was a little thicker. He tugged at a few strands and held them in front of his face.

They were gray.

Carl frowned in confusion. Gray? That didn’t make sense. His hair had been pure white for a while now. Grabbing some more hair, he was amazed to find it all the same color.

"Must be a trick of the light or something."

"Maybe your hair is still dirty from yesterday," Russell offered helpfully.

"Yeah, maybe," Carl assured, although he didn’t say it with much conviction. Internally, he was more confused than ever. Even if he could explain the hair, he still had no answer for his rejuvenated hearing.

"Russell, do you have a mirror of some kind?"

"Why do you need a mir…?"

"Do you have one or not?" Carl asked more sternly.

Russell fumbled around his backpack for a few seconds, eventually coming up with a small one that was unusually grimy. He mentioned something dropping it into a pond, but Carl wasn't concerned about the details. He held the mirror up to his face.

What he saw was mostly in line with what he was familiar with. Deep bags under his eyes. Age spots decorating his cheeks and forehead. Etched laugh lines on the edges of his lips. A sagging jawline. Loose skin hanging from his neck. All common traits of a man his age.

But his hair didn't quite match.

He was wrong in his initial assumption that the gray was a visual trick. The majority of his hair was that color, just a bit darker than he was used to. And was it his imagination, or was it longer as well?

It wasn't just the hair. As Carl leaned so close to the mirror that it was practically pressing against his nose, he realized that while he still had age spots, laugh lines, and bags, they weren't as prominent as they had been yesterday. They looked smoother, as if he had applied a strong face cream or retinol serum overnight.

"What the heck is going on?" Carl said aloud, prodding and poking his cheeks. “I look five years younger.”

But before he or Russell could do anything else, they were suddenly surrounded by three other dogs, each one much more menacing than Dug. The clear alpha, an imposing Doberman Pinscher, walked slowly to Dug, growling.

In a comically high pitched voice, Alpha said, "Where's the bird? You said you had the bird."

"Oh yes." Dug replied. "Oh yes. Since I have said that, I can see how you would think that."

"Where is it?!"

"Uh...tomorrow. Come back tomorrow, and then I will again have the bird. Yes."

Dug let out his tongue, smiling happily, clearly hoping his explanation would be enough.

In response, Alpha barked roughly, forcing Dug to cower. “You lost it. Why do I not have a surprised feeling?” Face relaxing, Alpha took in the two humans before him. “Well at least you now have led us to the small male man and the one who smells of prunes.”

Carl attempted to gain some distance on Alpha, while also placing a protective arm in front of Russell.

Alpha continued. “Master will be most pleased we have found them. He will ask of them many questions. Come.”

Carl attempted to refuse the command, but before he could even take two steps in the opposite direction, he and Russell found themselves surrounded by Alpha’s lackeys.

And that's how the two found themselves walking frantically in the opposite direction, fending off the dogs at every step. They had no idea where they were going, but neither of them had a choice otherwise. Through the trek, the two were too distracted and scared to even think about what they had been discussing.

All the while, Carl didn’t notice how he never once used his cane to support himself.

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter Three:

He and Russell expected to be toast by this point. Dozens upon dozens of dogs had been baring their teeth at the two humans, ready to munch on their meaty flesh. But unexpectedly, salvation had come in the form of Charles Muntz.

Now granted, this was not the Charles Muntz from Carl’s years past. The vibrant young explorer had been replaced with a hobbled, ninety-two year old version that didn’t appear to be quite all there. But Carl supposed that couldn’t be helped. For all he knew, the nonagenarian hadn’t had any human contact in decades. And honestly, Carl didn’t care. This was Charles Muntz, his childhood hero! The man he had aspired to be before he even met Ellie! He was honestly surprised Charles was even still alive.

The younger septuagenarian couldn't believe his fortune. And to top it off, he was being given a grand tour of the Spirit of Adventure. The same Spirit of Adventure Charles himself had used all those decades ago to begin his expedition. It was beyond magical. It was a dream come true.

For the first time since arriving at the Falls, Carl felt like things were finally going his way.

Even his trick knee wasn't giving him trouble.

Neither was his back for that matter.

Trapped in a blissful daze since entering the blimp, Carl was suddenly brought back to reality as he and Russell entered Charles' dining room, surrounded by the now friendly hounds. Things were starting to get concerning. Carl could ignore the fact that his hair was apparently darker than it was yesterday. He had probably gotten dust in it while he was asleep. The recovery of his hearing abilities was harder to swallow, but…maybe the combination of a kid, a dog, and a bird making noise all day had finally broken through his eardrums. There had to be a logical explanation. However, as the morning had advanced to midday, Carl realized that whatever was happening to him, it wasn’t just centered above the neck.

As a man of his age, aches and pains were common occurrences. Sometimes he could barely walk down the street without pulling a muscle in his hip or groin. 

But now it barely hurt to walk. Or sit. Carl sat down in his chair between Russell and Charles, expecting to have to shake out the cricks in his shoulders and neck as he did so. But instead all he felt was a slight twinge. His mind insisted he was supposed to feel pain, but his body mostly refused to listen.

He had to get a good look at himself. This clearly wasn't normal. But he couldn't just leave the room. Besides the fact that dozens of four-legged bodyguards were watching him, he couldn't be so impolite to Charles. The man had welcomed him and Russell into his home. Carl had to at least put on a brave face until he had a chance to be alone.

And besides, he was hungry.

Forcing a smile, Carl turned towards Charles. "Oh, my Ellie would've loved all this." He gestured towards his floating house. "You know it's because of you she had this dream to come down here and live by Paradise Falls."

"I'm honored." Charles responded with a smile. "And now you've made it."

"You sure we're not a bother? I'd hate to impose…"

"No no, it's a pleasure to have guests." Charles insisted. "A real treat!"

All at once, the nearby dogs began shouting "Treat," over and over again, drowning out the conversation between the elderly gentlemen. Charles muttered angrily to himself.

"Shouldn't have used that word." Slamming his fist on the table, he directed his voice at his pets. "Having guests is a delight!" That effectively shut the dogs right up.

But now that their chat had been so abruptly cancelled, Carl needed something else to distract from the growing awkwardness. His eyes settled on the dish in front of him. "So, Shrimp Creole?"

"Oh yes!" Charles responded, his chipper attitude returning. "One of Epsilon's finest works! I'd have it every night if I could. Go on, give it a shot!"

Glad that the change in topic had worked, Carl eagerly dug into the meal. And oh boy, was it good. It was so good it made caviar taste like cheap mush. In just a few bites, Carl had torn his way through the whole dish, to the surprised looks of both Charles and Russell. At the lack of noise, Carl looked up from his bowl, the tail end of a shrimp hanging from his mouth.

"What?"

Charles looked bemusedly at Carl. "A little famished, are we?"

As if suddenly realizing what he had been doing, a blush spread across Carl's face, staining his complexion a deeper red than the sauce of his dish. He quickly wiped his mouth with his napkin. "Um...sorry. I don't normally eat that much in one sitting."

"I'll say," Charles said with a hearty chuckle. "I swear you eat with the stomach of someone twenty years your junior."

Despite his embarrassment, Carl couldn't help but chuckle as well, joining in the banter. "Only twenty, Mr. Muntz? I'm flattered, but not stupid. Try forty."

"Hey," Charles replied, shrugging, "Maybe these eyes can't see like they used to, but let me tell you, when you get to be as old as I am, everyone else seems like a rugrat!" The two men shared a great laugh at that, while Russell stared on in confusion. Shrugging, the boy went back to defending his hotdog and orange juice before they vanished. Eventually, Charles continued.

"I’m honestly surprised you and your wife were fans of mine. I figured that was before your time. I mean, how you can't be that old. What are you, sixty?"

The laughter bubbling out of Carl stopped and the man froze. Sixty? That wasn't right. That wasn't even close to his actual age.

"Uh..." Carl stuttered. ‘Maybe he misspoke.’ “Yeah, just about.”

He hoped the lie was convincing enough, but, as he quickly realized, he might’ve taken too long to answer.

Charles leaned back in his chair slowly, his smile fading gradually into a neutral expression. His shoulders drew back, his posture more rigid, and his eyes actually grew brighter. They pierced through the dimly lit dining room. 

"You don’t say."

Carl didn't really know how to respond to that, so instead he gestured down towards his empty plate. "Um, do you have any more food?"

Without another word, Charles made a signal to Epsilon, and another dish was prepared. Carl so wanted to attack it like he had the first, but something in Charles' gaze effectively killed off his appetite. Even Russell had paused in his meal, noticing the sudden tension. The surrounding dogs around the table had all their attention focused on Carl, and the previous friendliness and good-naturedness had all but vanished, leaving the dining room much colder than before. 

Clearly, the conversation surrounding Carl’s age had sparked something within the older gentleman, and Carl knew anything he said at this point would be intensely scrutinized. He looked back at the old explorer, who attempted to mollify him by smiling again, but it didn’t quite reach Charles’ eyes. Despite everything, Carl was loath to admit he still didn't really know exactly what was happening.

But he now had a strong suspicion Charles did.

Taking another bite of his shrimp, he chewed once. Twice. Three times.

And then out of nowhere, an intense pain burst through his jaw.

"Aaah!" Carl screamed, grabbing his mouth.

"Mr. Fredricksen!" Russell exclaimed, dropping his hot dog and rushing over to the old man's side. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Carl sat up straight, massaging his jaw gently. “Yeah…wait…” The pain had ebbed a little bit, but it wasn't disappearing. In fact, it almost seemed to be spreading. "No. Not really."

Initially in one small spot, the pain was soon felt around his entire mouth, and it was quickly building again. Carl clamped his eyes in distress, wishing for it to go away. Had he unhinged his jaw from eating too quickly? Maybe something in the food had pierced his gums. Without opening his mouth, he quietly popped out his dentures a bit so that he could trace the gums with his tongue.

But to his horror, what he sensed immediately wasn't his gums.

Something solid was jutting out from them. Many little somethings. And they were growing.

Bathroom. He needed to find a bathroom.

"Be right back! Shrimp went right through me!" Carl yelled. Getting up from his chair, he grabbed his cane and made a beeline for the door, leaving a worried Russell in his wake. The boy threw down his hot dog and made to follow.

"Uh...I gotta go too!"

The door slammed shut behind Russell, and Charles, who had not taken his eyes off the pair, leaned back in his chair, scratching Alpha behind the ears. Without the slightest bit of humor, he said, "Those two are terrible liars."

Running faster than he had in years, Carl found a nearby bathroom down the narrow hallway. He quickly entered and shut the door behind him, locking it instantly. The last thing he needed was for someone to barge in on him while he was beginning to hyperventilate. Popping out his dentures which had become unbearable to wear, he once again felt along his gums.

There was no mistaking it this time. In his mouth lay two sets of teeth. Teeth that had been removed years ago. If he looked in the mirror, he was almost certain these new teeth would be solid and healthy as well.

The mirror!

Carl turned around slowly to face the glass in front of him, shaking where he stood. This mirror was large and pristine, unlike the grimy handheld one Russell had offered him earlier. If something was off, Carl would have no way to make excuses. Taking a hesitant breath, he stepped forward.

And felt his mouth drop open at the sight.

The man staring back at him was still Carl Fredricksen. Same square glasses, same square jaw, same bushy eyebrows. But at the same time, it wasn't him. At least, not the man he had come to know in recent years.

The bags under his eyes had significantly reduced in size and puffiness. His jaw was more solid, the skin tighter around his neck. His eyes seemed more open, more alive. Age spots were sporadic rather than numerous.

And yes, his hair really was changing color.

It wasn’t just gray now. There were at least two or three small patches of hair near his temples that had darkened to brown. Even as Carl stared at himself, a few more strands shimmered before darkening to that same shade. His hair was longer too. He hadn't been imagining things earlier. Carl opened his mouth wide, and a set of perfect white teeth gleamed back at him.

He held up a hand to his face, allowing the light from the bathroom to reflect off of it. The texture of his palm was noticeably less weathered, and the fingers felt stronger, Carl realized as he clenched them taut.

This wasn’t right. None of this was right.

“Hot.” Carl gasped. “It’s too hot.” He removed his jacket and threw it to the side.

This wasn't a man nearing his eighties staring back at him, Carl realized with dread. This was the face and body of a man twenty years younger. Possibly even more.

"It can't be." Carl said aloud to himself, watching the reflection copy him exactly. Even his voice sounded different. Less scratchy, and slightly higher in pitch. The old man (was he really old anymore?) didn't want to believe it. Hell, he didn't want to even imagine it. But here, with absolute proof looking right back at him, he couldn't deny it any longer.

He needed to get out of here.

Grabbing his jacket and dentures, he prepared to leave, hoping to come up with a reasonable excuse by the time he got back to the dining room. He reached for the doorknob, but stopped as it turned on its own and flung open, revealing a panting Russell. Carl cursed internally. Apparently, he hadn’t locked the door properly. 

"Mr. Fredricksen," Russell exclaimed, grabbing his traveling partner and dragging him into the hallway. "What's going on?! Are you sick?! What…"

But the boy soon stopped as well as he viewed Carl more closely, eyes widening. For being only nine years old, despite the fact that he was easily distracted and didn't pay much attention, he wasn't dumb.

"What's happening to you, Mr. Fredricksen?" Russell asked in wonder.

Carl could barely speak. "I...I think…I think something was in that water.”

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter Four:

The young boy and now middle-aged man stared at each other, both struggling to comprehend what Carl had said. Considering the places they'd gone and the creatures they'd met in just over a day, one would think they'd be used to this by now. But this island somehow kept finding ways to surprise them.

"Are you getting younger?" Russell questioned, hardly believing his own words. Nine year olds tended to have a more vivid imagination than more jaded and learned older people. However, literal age regression was not something he would've expected in his wildest dreams to see in real life. 

"Well, I mean...look at me kid!" Carl shouted, gesturing to himself. "Did I look like this this morning?!"

"Uh, no. But...I mean...you don't look that young…"

"Russell!" Carl interrupted, his voice becoming more and more wild. “I was seventy-eight yesterday! Now I’ll be lucky if I’m pushing sixty! The point is I'm not an old man anymore! I'm changing, and I have no idea how it's happening or if it's ever going to stop!"

Russell froze in response. "Are you saying you...you could…"

"Become a kid? A baby? Get so young I don't exist anymore? I don't know, maybe!" Gasping for breath, Carl began walking frantically in circles around Russell. He clasped his hands around his head. "Oh god, oh god, ohgodohgodohgod, this can't be happening. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for any of this! Why did that stupid bird do this to me?!"

Was this what a panic attack felt like? Carl felt as if the long hallway was closing in around him, cutting off any means of escape. His eyes darted every possible direction, while sweat began to bead on his forehead. 

"Hey, Mr. Fredricksen, it'll be okay." Russell said hopefully, reaching to pat Carl on the back in a futile attempt to calm him down. The boy was finding it hard to comprehend what he was seeing. This younger version of Mr. Fredricksen, even though Russell had only known him for a minute, wasn't as closed off as his older counterpart. He seemed to be more open to expressing himself, but that also meant his emotions were coming out with less restraint, like a dam about to burst. Russell wasn't sure what he could do.

"H-How can you even say that?!" Carl asked in shock, shaking off Russell's hand. He pointed at the boy harshly. "You're not the one going through his life in reverse like...like some fr-freakshow! I could vanish by tomorrow and you want me to calm down?!"

“Well, I just thought…”

“Yeah,” Carl scoffed, although it came out wet sounding. “You just thought. Fat lot of good that did. Maybe if you hadn’t thought so much, we wouldn’t have gotten into this damn mess in the first place!”

Even though Carl was nearing hysteria, and for good reason, he knew instantly that he had made a mistake. Because as soon as the words left his mouth, Russell clammed up. For the first time since they had met, the boy had nothing to say. The happy, energetic Wilderness Explorer that had led Carl's house through the rainstorm and persuaded him to adopt both Kevin and Doug, had suddenly been replaced by the vulnerable child that had confessed about his neglectful father last night. And Carl couldn't help but feel bad about it.

"I...I just wanted to help."

His demeanor sobering, Carl rubbed his hand down his face with a groan. "Look, Russell...I'm…I’m sorry."

The child looked up. "Really?" He asked softly with a sniffle.

"Really, I mean it. I know you were trying your best to make me feel better. But, I just don’t think this is something you, or anyone else, can help me with." 

Carl paused, and counted to ten in an effort to calm himself. “The truth is, I’m scared. I never wanted to come here to find some magical fountain of youth, or whatever it was. I’m okay with being old. I’ve lived a full life. And I feel like this was just forced on me without my consent. All I wanted was…well…” He considered his next words carefully. Should he tell Russell the real reason why he wanted to take his house to Paradise Falls. He wasn’t even sure he wanted to admit it to himself. Maybe he should sugarcoat it? In the moment, Carl decided to give a half truth. 

“Did I tell you at any point why I wanted to come here?" Carl asked, doing his best to keep his voice level.

Russell paused, putting his hand to his chin. "I...don't think so?"

"Well, years ago, when I was about your age, I made a promise to a little girl that I would take her here with me. We tried saving up for the trip, but every time we almost had enough, something would happen and force us to spend our savings. And then, one day..." Carl stopped, feeling the emotions welling up within him. "...One day, she got really sick, and before the doctors could help her, she was gone."

Russell's face fell open in shock. "You mean she died?"

"...Yes."

"Was...was she your friend?"

Taking a deep breath, the formerly old man let it exhale slowly from his lungs, his form slumped against the wall. "More than that." He said solemnly. "She was my wife."

Russell gasped.

"Her name was Ellie."

"Ellie? Isn’t that what you call your house?" Russell asked.

Carl nodded.

“You named your house after your wife?”

“Yeah. It’s kind of like having a piece of her with me at all times.”

"So...even though she's gone, you still wanna keep your promise?"

Another nod. "Yes, more than anything in the world." Carl shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "But I don't know if there's a point anymore. Even if I do get my house all the way to the Falls, it won’t be the same. She won’t be here to live this adventure with me.” Lost in his thoughts, the older man failed to notice Russell's expression hardening at his words.

No longer able to support himself, his body sagged to the ground, the weight of his confessions making him feel almost fifty pounds heavier.

"I had sixty-five years to do it. Sixty-five long years." Carl croaked, tilting his head up towards the ceiling, the beginnings of moisture building up in his eyes. "I couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world. I failed her."

"No!" Russell suddenly shouted, grabbing the middle-aged man roughly by the shoulders and forcing Carl to look at him. Carl was shocked by the action, but was even more surprised to see the return of the fire in the young boy's eyes. "She wouldn’t want you to stop now! We can still get your house to the falls!”

Carl wanted to laugh sarcastically at that, but deliberately held back. "Kid, I don't even know if I'll be around long enough to make it over there. By tomorrow or the next day, I could cease to exist."

"But what if you don't go back that far?" Russell countered, refusing to believe the older man's words. "What if it stops? Then you’ll be fine."

"Oh, and you’re suddenly an expert on this?" Carl argued back. "The only one who probably has any knowledge about that lake is Kevin, and it’s not like she can actually tell us anything. We could go back and forth on this forever."

“I don’t care! An Explorer is a friend to all, be it plants or fish or tiny mole!” 

Carl was confused. What did that have to do with this situation? “That doesn’t even rhyme.”

“Yeah it does. The point is, you promised to help me protect Kevin. So, now I promise I’m gonna help you!”

By the look on his face, Russell could tell that Carl didn’t quite believe him, so to drive the point home, he made an X on his chest. “I swear it. Cross my heart!”

“Cross your heart on what?"

Carl and Russell jumped at the third voice, turning around from where they were on the floor to find Charles Muntz not fifty feet from them, a gaggle of dogs at his feet.

"Mr. Muntz!" Carl yelped, hastily stumbling to a standing position. He attempted to make himself look presentable to his host, quickly shoving his now unusable dentures in his pocket. "I'm so sorry we took so long! I really had to go and I had to wait for Russell to finish, and…"

"Now now," Charles responded, holding up a hand, silencing Carl immediately. "It's alright. I understand."

"You do?" Russell asked.

"Of course!" The elderly man answered with an easy smile. "I've had plenty of meals pass through me like that!" He punctuated the sentence with a snap. "But now, it appears as if you're finished, so won't you join me back in the dining room?"

Carl paused, realizing he had forgotten to come up with a reason for them to leave. "Well, I'd uh…. I’d like to, but we really must be getting back to my house. It's late, and the boy needs to sleep."

"...I believe I just asked you to join me in the dining room." And just like that, Charles' smile had vanished again. The dogs around him narrowed their eyes as a pregnant silence filled the room. Carl attempted to formulate a response.

"But...we've had such a long day, and…"

Charles interrupted him again. "Oh please, I insist. You haven't even tried our dessert yet." He gestured towards his chef hound. "Epsilon here makes a delicious Cherries Jubilee! And he'd be practically insulted if you didn't try it. Wouldn't you, Epsilon?"

The chef growled at Carl and Russell in response, large teeth dripping with drool.

"But...but…" Carl stammered, running a hand through his hair, which had become damp with sweat. "We really have to…"

"What, you can't stay here for a little longer and have a nice dessert before going off to bed?" Charles turned around and began walking back, while his dogs obediently followed.

"You can even spend the night here if you please." Charles continued, his voice mellowing into an even tone. He turned back around and fixed his gaze directly on Carl. "What do you require? Pajamas? Melatonin? Toothpaste?"

Carl stopped dead in his tracks. That last question felt like a targeted one. Out of instinct, he patted his pants where his dentures lay.

They were gone.

Where did they go?

Carl’s head darted down and back up again, a panicked look on his face. Somehow, without him even noticing, Alpha had stolen the dentures from his pocket. The dog's eyes glowed menacingly as he almost dared the human to try and grab them. Mouth gaping, the middle-aged man caught Charles' gaze, only for the older gentlemen to give a vicious smile and turn away.

There was no doubt now.

Charles Muntz knew.

Having taken the dentures from Alpha’s mouth, Charles was now tossing them casually, once again giving the other two humans his back. “By the way,” he said. “On my way over here, I happened to notice a rather large bird on the roof of your house.”

Russell chose that moment to speak up, in a very timid voice. “Kevin?” 

“Is that what its name is? Fascinating. You simply must tell me more about it. I’m sure it’ll make a wonderful story.”

In the moment, Carl and Russell understood instantly the underlying threat. They exchanged a fearful glance.  

“And I can’t wait to hear how it ends.”

As he finished the sentence, Muntz turned back around, a grin still etched on his face. Only for it to immediately drop as he saw the hallway door close behind him.

“Get them!”

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter Five:

Carl and Russell made their way down the ramp of the blimp as fast as their feet would allow. Meanwhile, the sounds of growling dogs grew behind them. Taking advantage of Charles’ carelessness hadn’t bought them as much time as they would’ve hoped. They landed on the ground and were about to grab their ropes when the sight in front of them made them skid to a halt.

Even more dogs were surrounding Carl’s house, barking up at the roof, where Kevin was still screeching out in fear. They hadn’t noticed the boy and middle-aged man just yet, but they no doubt would soon.

“Oh no!” Russell whispered. “What are we going to do now?!”

Carl muttered a curse under his breath. If they got any closer, their cover would be blown. And if they spent too long thinking up a plan, they’d be attacked from behind. Carl clutched his cane tightly.

Wait a minute…

His cane!

Grabbing Russell, Carl took the both of them behind a nearby stone pillar. He turned over his cane, and removed two of the tennis balls from the bottom. Then he walked back into the open and let out a whistle. The nearby dogs paused their barking to follow the sound.

“Hey! Who wants the ball?!” 

“Me! Me me me!”

“I do! I want the ball!”

“Give it here! Give it here!”

Carl hurled both balls in opposite directions, making sure to keep them as far from the house as possible. The dogs, now thoroughly distracted, gleefully split into groups of two, allowing the humans the opening they needed.

“C’mon, Russell,” Carl commanded. “Let’s go!”

They quickly grabbed their ropes and made their way towards a nearby cavern, while an anxious Dug, who had been waiting outside, followed. As they hopped down the rocks, they heard noise behind them, indicating they had lost their head-start. Once they reached a more level ground again, they broke out into a sprint. 

“We need to put some distance on these dogs!” Carl gasped.

“I’m trying, Mr. Fredricksen!”

Carl glanced around his shoulder to find the boy lagging slightly behind, sucking in air as he ran. Belatedly, Carl realized that he was now the faster of the two. One of the benefits of a body that had shed twenty years of wear and tear, he supposed. Or was it twenty-five now? 

It was as if time was melting from his frame. Either the changes were accelerating, or he had become so hypersensitive that any differences felt like sensory overload. Sweat began to pour down his face, past a nose that had started to shrink, dripping from skin that had tightened further. Longer hair plastered itself to his forehead.

There was an audible crack in the air, and before Carl could even process what it was, he tripped over himself. Thinking quickly, he used the momentum to turn it into an awkward tumble, wincing as his back scraped painfully against the ground. He got back on his feet and continued to run, but right away, he could tell something was wrong.

“What’s going on?!” He yelled. “My legs aren’t cooperating!”

Russell, who had pulled ahead, yelled back. “What?!”

Carl tried his best to catch up to the boy, but it seemed that during his fall, his legs had become bizarrely out of sync. No, not just out of sync, he realized with mounting incredulity. They were longer. His pants had been pooling around his ankles not five minutes ago. Now they fit perfectly. His shirt had become looser around the waistline. His jacket clung to his shoulders. In the span of a second, Carl had regained his full adult height. Stumbling again, he grunted out in frustration. 

“Ugh, I don’t have time for this!”

Thankfully, help came in the form of Kevin, who snatched both humans up and plopped them on her back without breaking stride. For the next few minutes, the trio did their best to maintain their lead, navigating through the peaks and valleys of the increasingly narrow pathway. At one moment, the house brushed against the ceiling, popping many balloons and causing it to sink lower to the ground. Carl attempted to steer the house to safety, but a brutal smack against another boulder launched him off Kevin’s back, where he once again landed brutally, all the while continuing to be dragged along. 

The rabid dogs in the distance continued to gain on their prey, spittle flying from their maws. Carl could almost spot the hungry look in Alpha’s eyes. But before Alpha could even think to make an attempt on Carl’s ankle, he and the rest of the dogs were interrupted by a sudden rockslide, which completely blocked the path. The middle-aged man looked up to find their savior in Dug.

“Go on, Master!” Dug bellowed. “I will stop the dogs!”

Right away, Carl knew that was a bad idea. There was no way one dog was going to hold off dozens of others. He needed a backup plan.

“No! NO! Don’t stop them!” Carl screamed in response.

Dug’s ears rose in confusion. “What?! Why, master?!”

“Don’t worry about why! You need to run! Find a way to get back to us!”

“Okay, master!” Dug exclaimed happily, scampering down the nearest pathway and disappearing from Carl’s vision.

“Kevin, slow down!” 

Carl looked up to watch Russell give the command to Kevin, who slowed just enough for Carl to find his bearings and climb back on. Soon enough, the three made their way to an opening, where Kevin instinctively took a riskier but quicker path. She hopped from one rock to another, ignoring that a domino effect of crumbling pillars had started behind her, before she was forced to skid to a stop. She had reached a gap that was too vast to leap across. 

Carl and Russell glanced back. The dogs were catching up, with a reappeared Dug only slightly in front of them. Above, the house began to cross over the gap. They were almost out of time.

“Hang on to Kevin,” Russell said, latching onto her neck with all his might. Carl did the same, and at the same time Dug slid to a stop by Kevin’s foot. Reaching out with one hand, Carl grabbed Dug by his collar and hoisted him up. As the house reached the other side, the ropes attached to the two humans grew taught, and Kevin allowed herself to be carried through the air.

But as they took off, Carl heard a growl that was much too close for comfort. He looked out of the corner of his eye. Alpha was standing right by the edge of the rock. And judging by the way his haunches were bunching up, he was about to attempt to attack. 

‘No! Not now! We need more time!’

Almost despite himself, a pang of anger pierced its way through the fear coursing in Carl’s veins. Maybe it was a result of the relentless onslaught of bad luck the formerly old man had experienced these last two days. Maybe it was righteous indignation at the maniac Carl had once considered his idol. Maybe his increasingly youthful body was high on adrenaline. 

Whatever it was, Carl was NOT about to let anyone get hurt under his watch. 

Alpha surged into the air, and, reacting on pure impulse, Carl heaved his cane as hard as he could. The throw was far from perfect. But thankfully, it was just accurate enough to catch Alpha in his side, knocking him off course, just before his teeth could into Kevin’s leg. With a whine, the Doberman plummeted to the river below, as many other dogs followed in his wake. But Carl, nor anyone else in the group, had the time to be concerned. Only making a slight misstep, Kevin landed safely on the other side of the exit and took off once again at full speed, leaving the enemies behind. 

“Ha-ha!” Dug cheered, tail wagging. “Take that you dogs!”

Russell joined in with a fist pump, at the same time gazing up at Carl with awe. “Mr. Fredricksen, that was amazing!” 

Carl blinked, adrenaline fading as he took in the praises of his companions. He felt his cheeks redden automatically, and he rubbed the back of his neck out of embarrassment. 

“Well…I…uh…I mean…it was nothing.” Oh god, what was happening? He hadn’t stuttered like this since he was a child.

Dug, still in Carl’s grasp, crawled up and licked his face ferociously. “I am going to love having you as my master!”

The three shared a laugh, and Carl rubbed Dug behind the ears.

Chapter Text

Moving On, Starting Over

Chapter Six:

The rest of the day fortunately passed without incident. Although the group had to stop several times to allow Kevin a break, it seemed they had put enough distance to completely lose Muntz and his henchdogs. Carl voiced his desire to head straight to the falls, but Russell insisted they drop Kevin off to tend to her babies. 

Carl didn’t have the heart to refuse the kid’s request anyway. Not after all they had been through.

As the sun trended towards the horizon, and the sky deepened to shades of orange and red, the four finally reached the end of the forest, where they found a familiar rock formation in the open.

“Look, there it is!” Russell pointed, unhooking his rope and running ahead. Carl, amused, followed behind, with a barking Dug bringing up the rear. 

Kevin, having already taken off, sprinted to the entrance to her home. Oddly enough, there was a thick fog permeating through the air, and she disappeared as soon as she entered. Carl stopped to look around the area. 

“That’s weird,” he said. “There’s no fog anywhere else but right over there.”

“Do ya think that’s why Mr. Muntz couldn’t find her?” Russell questioned.

Carl shrugged in response. “I guess so.” Weird, isolated fog was fairly low on the list of unnatural things they had experienced recently. 

Dug came up to Carl’s ankle and flopped on his back, tongue lolling out. “I am glad I do not have to make the bird my prisoner anymore. I did not like obeying other master.”

Carl took the invitation to kneel down and give the Golden Retriever a belly rub, which Dug greatly appreciated. “We’re glad to have you, Dug. You’re a good boy.” Dug’s leg only kicked harder in pleasure. 

Russell meanwhile was scrounging around his backpack, where he pulled out yet another chocolate bar. He took a healthy bite. “So, do we go to the falls now?” 

“I think we should,” Carl answered. “We’ve got two days max before those balloons run out of helium. After that we’ll be stuck wherever we end up.” He stopped petting Dug and got back to his feet, noting how his bones and limbs only made mild sounds of protest. “Hey Russell, can I see that pocket mirror again?”

“Sure thing, Mr. Fredricken.”

Accepting the handheld, Carl took in his face once again. He couldn’t help but let out a snort. He had to be forty now, if that. Deep forehead creases had regressed into faint lines. The jowls in his neck had all but vanished. The jawline was firm and square. The skin tone was no longer as sallow, having gained a more pinkish hue.

And of course, there was the hair.

The grays were still there, but the pepper had overtaken the salt. The patches of brown hair by his temples were now solid streaks all over his head. And that same hair was beginning to lighten again, appearing more light brown as opposed to medium. Much longer than yesterday, it had styled itself in an upswept, wavy pattern.

In no more than thirty six hours, the formerly old man’s age had nearly halved. And despite how worried Carl was about what this could lead to, he still couldn’t help but be fascinated. 

“Wow, Mr. Fredricken,” Russell remarked. “You look young enough to be my dad.”

Dug added, “And you no longer smell of prunes.”

“Heh, ain’t that something,” Carl huffed out. He did some quick math in his head. Five or so years lost overnight. Another fifteen to twenty lost by midday, and then ten more lost over the rest of the day. Perhaps the changes were finally starting to slow down, just like Russell had suggested? He could only hope.

The sounds of a very familiar bird diverted the attention of the humans and canine. Kevin had returned, and following her were three miniature versions of herself, tiny little hatchlings that barely came up to Russell’s knees. Without pause, the baby birds excitedly leaped onto him and Carl, crawling all over them and nuzzling their necks. 

Russell was ecstatic. “Aww, they’re so cute and soft!” He took one gently by the hand and rubbed its furry belly. 

The other two babies had taken to playfully nipping at Carl’s hand. Carl felt a tender smile turn his lips upward, and he purposely made his fingers dance, giving the tiny birds an object to chase. 

“Ha-ha, ow! Careful there, heh, ow, ow!” These little buggers had sharp beaks.

“Oh, can we please stay just a little longer?! Pretty please?!” Russell pleaded. The baby entertaining him had now moved up to his head, where it began making a nest with his hair.

Carl considered this. A little more time wouldn’t hurt, right? There was no indication Charles Muntz had any idea where they were. And who could say no to those giant puppy dog eyes staring up at him?

‘Kid’s making me soft, I swear.’ 

“Alright, alright.” Carl relented. “One more hour.”

“Yay!”

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to be cautious. “Hey Dug,” Carl said to the retriever still at his feet. “Can you do a quick search to make sure we’re not being followed?”

Dug stood at attention. “Yes, Master! I will search for the dogs!” And he was off, vanishing behind the thick leaves of the forest. 

For the next thirty minutes, Carl and Russell entertained the little birds while Kevin looked on with what could be construed as approval. Meanwhile the last of the sun’s rays dipped below the skyline, and the reds and oranges gave way to deeper pinks and blues. Russell, by far the most excitable, would not stop laughing his head off, as he continuously came up with new games to play. 

Carl sat with the smallest of the three babies, running his finger over its head gently, when Kevin walked over and squatted next to him. For a moment, the two stared at each other, and Carl took in her eyes. They were pure black, with no visible pupil, and yet they gleamed. Remembering their interactions from yesterday, Carl realized that maybe this giant beast had more intelligence than he had given her credit for. Maybe it was worth it to bring up the question that had been on his mind all day?

“So,” Carl began. “You ever going to explain why you dumped me in that water?”

Kevin, somewhat annoyingly, merely shook her head. Was that a smile on her beak?

Carl huffed, running his hand through his hair. At least she could understand him. “Figured. I’m not going to become unborn or anything, right?”

A nod.

“Well, small victories, I guess. Hey, if it means anything, I’m sorry I was so nasty to you yesterday.”

Kevin, appearing to accept the apology, moved to bop Carl on the head, as was expected, but then at the last moment, changed her mind and cuddled him under his chin instead.

“Thanks.”

Twenty feet away, Russell started up his third consecutive round of hide-and-seek with the other two mini-Kevins. 

“Hey kid, are these games for the babies, or for you?”

Russell didn’t miss a beat. “Why not both?!”

Carl was impressed. The kid had a surprisingly quick wit when he wanted to. A chuckle bubbled out of the man’s mouth before he could stop himself. A chuckle which soon developed into full blown laughter. The sound of it echoed in the air. 

After a solid minute, Carl finally was able to calm down. He wiped a tear from his eye, still giggling slightly. Where had that come from? He hadn’t laughed that much in years. 

‘Maybe all that adrenaline from earlier made me delirious.’

He felt a little tickle in his neck, and he looked down to find that the baby bird that had yet to leave his side was rubbing up against him affectionately. Cooing, the little creature reached up to press its beak against his cheek. 

“Aww,” Carl mumbled softly, ticking it under its chin. “You’re sweet. Kevin’s really lucky to have kids like you.”

Unfortunately, that offhand comment brought to his mind thoughts he hadn’t considered in a very, very long time. As if blown away by the wind, Carl’s smile drooped, and his eyes became more wistful. Unluckily, or perhaps luckily, it didn’t escape Russell’s notice. 

“What’s up, Mr. Fredricksen?” He asked. “Why do you look so sad?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Carl replied absentmindedly, continuing to scratch his feathered companion. “I’m just thinking about the kid I never got to have, that’s all.” 

Oh. Oh no. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud. Dammit, why was he unable to keep his mouth shut?! It was as if the younger he became, the worse his verbal filter got.

Russell stopped playing his game with the other birds to come by Carl’s side, looking at him curiously. “You never had a kid? Why?”

“Believe me, Ellie and I wanted to have a kid. We tried, more than once.” Carl shifted uneasily in his seat. “But it didn’t work out.”

Russell’s eyes widened in surprise. “Why not?

“It just didn’t, okay?”

That had come out a little shorter than Carl had intended, but it seemed to have the desired effect. Russell sobered, appearing to understand what the adult had meant. “Oh, well I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault.” Carl put his head in his hands. “It’s just been a really hard couple of days.” Between going through life backwards while at the same time running from his murderous childhood hero, he was utterly exhausted. The brief reprieve with Kevin’s children had been nice, but all the recent events were catching up to him quickly.

“If it’s alright with you, I’m just going to rest for a bit.”

Russell nodded, not leaving Carl’s side. With a yawn, Carl found the most comfortable position he could and closed his eyes. However, not five minutes later, he was abruptly assaulted by a long, wet tongue. 

“Master! I have good news!” Looks like Dug had returned.

Carl groaned and sat up. ‘Well, it was nice while it lasted.’ “Did you see anything?”

“No, my pack is not following us!” Dug exclaimed, running around in circles. “Boy, they are dumb!” 

Shoulders relaxing, Carl let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good I guess.”

“Hey,” Russell started, appearing deep in thought for someone his age. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a great dad.”

Carl looked at the kid in astonishment. He opened his mouth to say something, but Russell went on. “I mean, I think I’ve learned more about the wilderness from you in two days than I did in three summers of wilderness explorer camp. My book didn’t make the wilderness sound anything like what I expected. It’s kind of…wild. And scary.”

“Heh, get used to that, kid.”

“But you still kept me safe. You kept all of us safe. You brought Kevin back to her babies, even though you don’t like her all that much. You rescued Dug from the bad dogs. And you let me stay with you, even though…” Russell fidgeted with his hands. 

“I know I talk too much and annoy you sometimes, and that you wanted to do this alone. I get it. Phyllis doesn’t like it when I bug her either. Sometimes I think like my dad feels that way too. You know, he used to come to all my Sweatlodge meetings. And afterwards we’d go get ice cream at Fenton’s. I always get chocolate and he gets butter-brickle. Then we’d sit on this one curb, right outside, and I’ll count all the blue cars and he counts all the red ones, and whoever gets the most, wins. I like that curb.”

Carl, too stunned to speak, put a comforting hand on Russell’s shoulder, who continued to talk as if he hadn’t noticed. “That might sound boring, but I think the boring stuff is the stuff I remember the most. I miss the boring stuff.” Russell looked back up at the older man. “Did you and Ellie like to do boring stuff?”

Carl hadn’t expected that question, but as he took a second to think about it, he realized with widening eyes that he didn’t have just one answer. He had three. “Actually, yes.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, we both liked working together at the local zoo. Nine to five, five days a week we’d clock in together. She was a zookeeper and I sold balloons.”

“Is that why you had enough balloons to lift your house?”

Carl smiled lightly. “Yep. I stockpiled them for years. We also loved sitting in the chairs in our living room and reading books. We could start at noon and not notice any time passing until the sunset.”

Russell smiled as well, a spark of joy reappearing in his eyes. “That sounds really nice!”

“Yeah…it was.” Carl’s voice wavered on those last words, as he felt the familiar heartache welling up inside him. “But I think the thing I’ll remember most of all is the picnics we’d always have, at the top of our favorite hill. She’d get up there first nearly every time; she always had better stamina. Then we’d lie down and look at the clouds, just enjoying each other’s company. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’d fall asleep to the sound of her voice.” A tear silently slid down his cheek. “I think you would’ve liked her.”

“Yeah,” Russell agreed. “I think I would’ve too.”

Neither of them spoke for a bit, content with watching Dug chase his own tail. Further away, Kevin had corralled her children together and was looking at the humans with intelligent eyes, as if she understood exactly what had been discussed. 

Russell broke the silence again. “You know, I bet somewhere Ellie is watching us. I bet she’s really happy you’re doing this adventure for her.”

Carl gave a wet laugh, ruffling Russell’s hair fondly. “Thanks, Russell. You’re a good kid.”

The two sat in shared solitude together, enjoying the simple breeze, as the last of dusk retreated and the group was plunged into nighttime. Although, it seemed the breeze had increased in speed from a few minutes before.

And wait, what was that noise?

All of a sudden a sharp light burst through the darkness, its sights set directly on Kevin. Carl and Russell leapt up from their spots and turned to find a large oblong airship taking up most of their vision. As the text “Spirit of Adventure” became visible, they realized with horror that Charles Muntz, beyond all rhyme or reason, had found them. 

“How did they find us?!”

“I don’t know!” 

“Run Kevin, run!”

The giant bird immediately obliged, grabbing her babies and taking off back into the fog. Carl, Russell, and Dug made to follow, but before they could, the sound of a gangplank disembarking forced them to stop. 

Charles Muntz, carrying a lantern and surrounded by dozens of incensed dogs, strolled down to the ground. He was no longer smiling. “What have you done with my bird?!”

“Returned her to her home, that’s what!” Carl snapped. “And she’s not your bird!”

“Yeah! Leave her alone!” Russell agreed from around Carl’s waist.

“You are not her master!” Dug barked out.

“She’s gone and she’s not coming back, so there’s no point in trying to capture her anymore!”

Charles, to their surprise, gave a malicious cackle. “Oh believe me, young man.” Carl winced. “There’s always a point when it comes to this bird. I didn’t dedicate my entire life to smoking it out of this desolate labyrinth just to have my plans foiled by an overweight brat and an age-defying freak!”

“Hey!”

Carl shushed the now riled up boy, not wanting to anger Charles further. “Look,” he attempted to reason. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Even if I could bring her back, I still wouldn’t do it. I know you intend to take her alive back to the States. But after that, you’re going to skin her and display her bones in your exhibit.”

Charles tried to protest, but Carl plowed through it. “Don’t even try to deny it. I’ve seen all your movies. Childhood biggest fan, remember? You and I both know how you operate.”

“Oh really?” Charles Muntz asked, smile fading to a look of complete and total calculation, which dumbfounded the younger man. “Well, in that case, I’m sure you knew this was coming.”

What? What could he be talking about? As Carl tried to decipher what Charles had meant, the older man lifted his gaze to a spot not far above him. Carl followed it to find a small hole above the zeppelin’s entrance. ‘Wait, that’s not just a hole. It has to have something in it.’ Carl quickly rifled through his memories of the adventure films he had watched in his childhood.

‘How did the great Charles Muntz capture all of his prey? Lasers? No, too messy. Water? No, too unreliable. It had to be something cheap and consistent that can easily fit in a…’

Oh.

Oh NO.

“Russell! Dug! Get out of here! NOW!”

Carl shoved the others off to the side as a large net burst out of the zeppelin and ensnared him instantly, launching him several feet back where he tossed and turned until he clattered against the rocky floor with a grunt of pain. 

“Mr. Fredricksen!” Russell cried, running after him and pulling out a pocketknife. Dug followed, barking.  

“No!” Carl gasped. He held out a hand, which made the boy and dog stop in their tracks. “You need to get out of here before he gets you too!”

“But…”

“But Master…”

“Just GO!” 

Gulping back tears, Russell led Dug into the foggy area inside Kevin’s home, where the two virtually faded from existence. Carl only had a moment to be relieved before he found himself being dragged towards the zeppelin by Alpha and the many other hounds. He fought with all his might, but his position inside the net left him with no traction, so all he could do was kick and punch ineffectively. 

“Believe me,” Charles commented, looking down smugly at the vulnerable man below him. “I’m not as predictable as you think. I always have a backup plan.”

He snapped his fingers, and the dogs returned to pulling Carl along. But, as if remembering something important, the ancient man walked down the ramp towards Carl’s house, which floated meekly next to the behemoth of an airship. Taking one long look at his helpless victim, Charles smashed his lamp under the porch, and the home was instantly set ablaze.

With no ability to stop it, Carl watched in abject horror as his entire livelihood went up in flames in front of him. As the heat rose, more and more balloons popped until the house finally landed pathetically on the ground. And Charles, feeling no remorse, only had this to say.

“Let’s go.”

Carl renewed his struggling, more desperate than ever to be free of his entrapment. He didn’t care what happened to him anymore. Screw the dogs. Screw Charles Muntz. All that mattered was saving his house. All that mattered was saving his Ellie. 

He did everything he could. He pulled at the ropes. He reached through the holes to scratch the dogs closest to him. He screamed until his lungs couldn’t take anymore. But nothing could stop the inevitable, and as he found himself inside the Spirit of Adventure, watching the ramp close, he knew that his house would never leave that spot. It would never reach Paradise Falls. 

“ELLIEEEEEE!”

The airship took off, and down below, a photo of Ellie fell to the ground and shattered.