Standby [Lion]

[Cheesigator]

When the murk and fog was clear enough, their endless trudging finally ceased.

They looked up and saw what used to be almost as good as Heaven looming over them, lights from the massive city of Haviah barely managing to eek their way through the muck and pollution. It was barely a tiny light in the distance to them, but despite that they both stopped, their hearts falling to the pits of their cold, empty stomachs.

Their minds were connected, they both felt each other's fear and dread. They knew the thoughts racing across each other's minds, but neither one could say something to comfort the other.

"... Come on." She croaked, her voice raspy from disuse the last 24 hours.

The concept of time was lost on them, an ancient memory; they had no idea the day, the week, the month, even the year. They didn't know how long they had been down here, scurrying like rats in the wasteland. The world above had continued on without them, and they both feared the same thing: they had been forgotten.

For Andromeda, it was a resolute certainty. People there would be happy to forget her, happy to think she had vanished. For Adele, it was anxiety-inducing mayhem. They had loved ones up there, loved ones they thought loved them just as dearly, but what if they didn't? What if they forgot?

Would they be able to live if the person they cared for the most had forgotten them and moved on? After everything they had been through, and how fragile their grip was on the sanity they had left, they knew the answer.

The two companions fell back into silence as they trudged forward, long since used to the permanent aches in their limbs, the pain in their backs, the fogginess and sharp pains in their heads.

As they traveled up through the Midhaven, working their way slowly and taking rest breaks to sit and recover (though neither could sleep) it became apparent that they were not like the other people here. They shuffled like walking corpses, others quickly parting and backing away from them, hiding their children. Andy was slightly better off; though she was starving just as badly, she'd always had a solid build and her muscles still remained, despite withering a bit with the lack of nutrition to sustain them. Her most noticeable wound was the bandana tied diagonally around her head to cover the now empty eye socket there. 

Addie, on the other hand, was a zombie.

Their opposite eye to Andy's was missing, their skin melted shut over the hollow socket; their body was thin and frail, and despite the remnants of their lean muscles that clung desperately to their bones it seemed as if a single stray wind would topple them over. They limped, a strange, warped metal prosthetic laced painfully to the stump of their thigh, and their tail, missing several inches off the end, wavered dangerously to help them maintain their balance.

Neither of them were recognized by the guards they approached to a known entrance to the city. As their chips were scanned, Andromeda looked over at Addie solemnly, knowing that this could very well be the last time she ever saw them.

Though they were Pilots, heroes worshipped by the citizens of the country they were sworn to protect, there was no guarantee they would live by coming back. They both knew that when coming here; it had been a topic of long debate between the two--whether or not it was even worth it to return.

As such, they had said their heartfelt and tearful goodbyes long before they reached the guards, and as they were cuffed and placed under arrest and led to separate transport vehicles, their gazes met one last time before they each whispered goodbye in their heads and their psychic connection was cut as agreed upon.

They had done what they could for each other. There was nothing more they could do, now.

Andromeda was surprised by the single cold, wet tear that welled up in her eye at the thought of losing who she thought of as her first and only friend.




The Axis Point was every Pilot's worst nightmare. The torture that was practiced there was unlike any other; they'd both heard that there was less pain the less you resisted, but being forced to relive every single painful memory in excruciating detail, sometimes over and over again all for the sake of their cruel analysis was enough in and of itself to drive Pilots mad.




Addie wasn't sure if they should consider themself lucky or not; the pain in their chest from the excruciating fear, anxiety, and dread felt like it would kill them. They were already overwhelmed and the moment the interrogation began their head felt like it would explode.

They couldn't remember much, and didn't know or feel anything at all as they laid there, ears ringing, the lights so bright they were near blinding, tinted red by something in their eye that someone was frantically trying to rub away. The only thing they knew for sure was the strong taste of iron in their nostrils and in their mouth, and that they felt like they were drowning--but they didn't think they were in any kind of water? Yet they could barely breathe, they felt the texture of liquid, but the taste of the iron was so pungent they could barely focus on anything else.

It went on for so long, drifting in and out of darkness, and their brain was so numb. Eventually it stopped; the red was gone, the iron was gone, the liquid was gone. And they were left there alone, numb, and staring up at the blinding ceiling.

Occasionally they saw the silhouette of someone above them, and heard muffled sounds like someone was talking to them underwater. Eventually, they slipped back into darkness again, and finally everything was quiet.

[Lion]

"Hannah," the voice on call was gripped with tension. "It's Addie."

Those words replayed over and over again in his mind on the Rail ride out DoSaM. It was all he could think about to keep himself from going mad. He'd quite the bottle some time ago, in an effort by Yavul to turn him back into the prime Valkyrie he used to be. Hannibal was a Pilot, he'd been reminded many times. The only way to keep on doing your duty was to stop fucking around and do it.

He needed to be strong, just in case. Just in case there was some chance... Just in case Addie never came back. That even if he was alone, and they were dead, he'd be able to carry on. He'd lost people he loved before. This certainly wouldn't be the last time.

Yavul was damn excited, anxious, trying to keep their spirits up as he always did. He was a damn good commander. He considered everyone before himself. They were a bundle of knots. Who wouldn't be on a day like today?

The sun had gone from daylight to evening in a blink of an eye. Hannibal didn't remember entering the ICU where Pilots could be quarantined to their own room. Visitors were kept to one at a time despite the entire squad ready to pounce and get rowdy and tear the goddamn visitor's section apart.

Hannah's heart pounded in his chest like a bomb timer. Each tick twitched his fingers like a gunslinger on the Edani frontier. He saw Addie, they were asleep and when visiting hours were over, he opted to stay behind while the rest left to go get food. Even the DoSaM cafeteria sucked pretty bad.

"You can come visit them tomorrow morning," the nurse said.

"I ain't seem 'em in a long time, Miss. So you'll forgive me if I ignore the rules and stay behind," he said nodding her dismissal. She sighed after a few seconds.

"Well the cafeteria stays open until midnight. I'll get you a coffee. But if you disturb them, that's it you're gone."

"Understood, Ma'am. Thank you."

And she was gone.

Hannibal sat down on the bed next to Addie and took their hand. "You're in a state, ain'tcha Ratkid. Pfft, man, I never thought I'd get a chance to say that again." And he laughed a little, a chuckle that made his voice clench when his throat tightened and tears rolled down his cheek.

[Cheesigator]

In the beginning, there was darkness. And the darkness was without form, and void.
And in addition to the darkness there was also me.

It swallowed them whole, comforting and warm. Wrapping around them like a blanket, they felt no pain for the first time in so, so long. It was so nice, they never wanted to leave.

Sometimes in the darkness they thought they heard the sounds of distant murmurs, but they didn't care who they were, who was whispering to them. They didn't matter. None of it mattered as much as this tranquility and peace. Was this what death was like? Had they died? Perhaps it wasn't so bad after all, not something to be afraid of like they'd always thought.

It was nice.

Hours turned to days, days turned to a week, and the week turned into more.

On the 15th day, the darkness suddenly ended. The sounds started slowly fading in, getting louder and more crisp, and before they realized what they were doing they were opening their eyes. Opening their eyes in what proved to be a feat, because they had crusted a bit and their lids felt so, so sluggish and heavy.

They saw the ceiling again but this time they saw it in much better definition; though their vision would never be the same as before, it wasn't like they were completely blind. They blinked, seeing the textures, studying them, while they did a mental checklist to see what was going on, where they were at.

They felt clean, warm, secure. Something they hadn't felt in so so SO long, and it felt so nice. Maybe this was where the nice feeling had come from in their sleep. Their brain sent the impulses to their arms and their fingers twitched; slowly raising a hand, they saw they were covered in small bandages here and there, and that they looked just slightly less thin than when they'd last seen themself. It was very slight, though.

They reached up and their fingertips brushed over bandages, and then what used to be unkempt blonde hair was now soft and combed, and so silky in comparison to how it had been before they almost couldn't believe it.

Finally, they became aware of a kind of tingling feeling at the base of their tail, and realizing they were laying on it, they slowly started to push themself up, careful of the IV taped down on their arm. It was when they shifted that they noticed two things:

First, their leg was gone. Not their leg leg but their prosthetic, the one that Andy had managed to make for them. Frantically they reached forward, patting around the bed for it as if they thought it would magically reappear under the blankets.

And second, as they were patting and looking desperately for their lost limb they saw him: Hannibal.

He was sitting in a chair, next to their bed, head resting on his arms, asleep. But he looked different; he had a beard for one, and for another his head was closely shaven... His nice long hair gone. He almost looked like a completely different person, and if they hadn't paid so much attention to memorizing every feature of him and his body they might not have recognized him at all.

What... Why... How long had they..?

The panic was still rushing through them, the beeping on their heart monitor loud and quick now as opposed to the serene and even pace it had had earlier. All they could do was sit there and stare at Hannah, mouth slightly agape, as they tried to figure out what... What they could possibly do.

Did they wake him up? Where were they? How long had they been here? How long had they been asleep? Where was Andromeda? Were they still Pilots? Was she alive? Why did Hannibal look so different? He hated having facial hair before, and what made him shave his head? Where was the rest of the squad? What--

[Lion]

Hannah didn't come back to Solarta on that evening Rail ride. If the Valkyries went back home, he didn't know anything about it. The coffee had sustained him roughly a few more hours before he decided to succumb to sleep. Right there beside Addie, he laid his head, curled up on his arms until he passed out.

He didn't stir until the bed started to move. Someone else was awake and he was beginning to miss the party. Hannah breathed in sharply, lifting his head when the sheets shifted. Addie had sat up and looked horrified to say the least.

Hannibal grinned through the thick beard he'd developed. "Good morning sunshine. The hospital has a nice glow doesn't it," he muttered gruffly. His voice had an edge to it as he cleared his throat from sleeping.  He laid his head back down, keeping his eyes glued to them. "I don't actually know if its morning."

He pat their thigh, half empty. Now he'd have to call them Count Stumpalot. He only hoped they'd take half as well as they might have.

"You look like you had a rough go about it. I'm glad you came back." And his hand squeezed their thigh again, blinking more tears from his eyes.

[Cheesigator]

When he woke up too and looked up at them, their breath caught in their throat and the heart monitor gave away the panicked beat of their pulse as it quickened further.

He... He...

They were caught in a mix of elation and horror; elation because they had thought about him constantly, missed him so much, and had never stopped dreaming of seeing him again. Horror because he was seeing them... Like this.

They looked nothing like they did when they first met. The long stubble along their jawline, the rough and shaggy blonde hair that looked like it'd been cut by themself without a mirror (because it had,) the countless scars, the lack of an eye, the lack of an entire LEG. In short, there was barely anything left of them.

Tears started welling up in their eye as they stared at him, vision getting blurry with the salt water.

"H-" They couldn't stop the sob that wracked their chest as they reached forward, their hands trembling as they slowly touched his face and realized this wasn't a dream, this was actually real.

"Hannah," They choked; their voice was rough, like their throat was torn from screaming, and before they knew it they were clinging to him and crying, saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over again like they thought nothing in the world could ever convince him to forgive them.

[Lion]

He didn't know what responses to expect from them. It could have gone any which way, but this was the least of all of them. In an effort to stay sane, Hannibal had forced himself to make less sense of the world, drowning his sorrows away in alcohol. Were it not for his squad, it might have washed him away, washed his sins down the drain like yesterday's pain.

He wanted to move on from that. From feeling like the world had ended. The harsh truth was that life went on with or without you, and he didn't want to be left behind. It wasn't his fault, he'd drilled that into his own psyche even though every day without Addie felt like it was.

"Don't apologize," he murmured when they coaxed him into an embrace. His arms were pulled tightly around them and he did what he'd only dreamed of doing every night they were gone. His lips pressed tightly to theirs to silence their rambling. Sweet, short, but powerful and he kept his forehead pressed to theirs.

"It's ok. Don't explain. Don't apologize. You're here now with me. That's all that matters, Addie. That's all I care about. I thought you were dead. I was tired of mourning a corpse, like every ghost that haunted me. I just wanted to see you again. And now every one of those nights missin' you wasn't fruitless. You're back, alive. Shaken, but you're here. Dammit, you're here."

It was his turn to ramble and again he did them both a favor and silenced himself with another kiss.

[Cheesigator]

While they had certainly never forgotten the feeling of Hannah's arms around them, the warmth, the feeling of security, the strength, absolutely no memory or dream could compare to experiencing the real thing in person.

The moment his arms were around them, theirs followed suit, hands wresting on his back and clutching desperately at his shirt as they kissed him back and cried.

There was so much they wanted to say they didn't know where to start, and it looked like even if they had it figured out they wouldn't be able to articulate it for a bit. So they just wept and clung to him, still finding it so hard to believe that they were here in the hospital with him, and that their 6-month-long nightmare was over.

Finally, it was finally over.

They tried not to cry too much, forcing themself to take a few deep breaths in as they tried to calm down, pulling back from him enough to look him in the eyes, reaching up and cupping his face and giving him a few soft, desperate kisses all over.

"I missed you so much," They whimpered, choking back another sob, "I thought about you every day and that I might never get to see you again and I--" They couldn't finish the thought as they bit their lip and looked away, rubbing tears out of their eye as they took in a breath and held it to keep the sob at bay.

"What happened?" They finally asked, looking at him and sniffling, finding one of his hands and holding it in theirs, one lacing their fingers together while the other brushed over the veins and callouses on the back of his knuckles.

[Lion]

The question was an open one. Hannah blinked at them after he tried his own tears. He had done his mourning, now with the realization that the love of his life was back in his life, he didn't have to cry anymore. Hannibal slowly released them when they grabbed his hand. He felt goosebumps flare up along the arm where they graced his hands. He stared down at them, swallowing the remainder of his sorrow.

"I remember the explosion. I remember losing you. I remember being angry that there was nothing we could do. Yavul pulled me back, took everyone back to the safety of the dome. I tried going out on my own after that, to find you. I only ever got out with back up but there was no luck. You were dead as far as we knew."

He squeezed their hands and looked them over. They certainly looked different than when he last saw them. They had a rough go of it as his mother used to say. It'd take some time to adjust but once they were back on their feet, he had no doubt the rest of the squad would do whatever they could do ensure they felt right at home again.

"That's what you mean right? Unless you were asking about something else? Because all that time you were got, you didn't miss much. We was hoping you'd still be alive. At least that's all I ever wanted, anyway."

[Cheesigator]

Gods, oh gods, all this time had gone by and it hadn't even occurred to them what it must have felt like on Hannah's end, on the squad's end, to lose them like that.

The sudden loss of connection with one of your teammates as they were ripped away from you; had they felt it? Had they felt the pain of the piercing lance through their thighs, too? Had they felt the electricity burning through every nerve in their bodies?

"I'm sorry," They croaked, horror making them tense up as more tears welled up in their eye. "I just--I saw them aiming for you and I had to, I had to do something--I-I couldn't lose you--"

And they knew how hypocritical that sounded. They couldn't lose him, but he would be fine if he lost them? But what else could they have done? They hadn't had the time to even think of any other options; they'd just acted purely on instinct.

"Th-They took me, I don't know where, I don't know where I was and-and you were all so far away," The tears were streaking down their cheeks again, their vision blurry even as they furiously tried to wipe them away, guilt washing over them in waves. "They-they took my eye and my leg and m-my tail, I'm sorry I--I'm sorry Hannah--"

They couldn't really articulate it any further than that, why they were apologizing; because they were trying to apologize for how they looked. How Hannah had to look at an already-strange ratkid that was now ALSO deformed and broken. Fear was gripping them hard that this would be... Too much for him. That at any moment he would push them away and say that he couldn't do this anymore. They didn't look the same, they weren't the same. They weren't the same ratkid he'd fallen in love with.